While at lunch with a coworker she asked me a question, “Have you ever been married?” “Yes, I was married once.” “How long?” she aked. “We were together – dating off and on, then married – for six years, but I was only married for….Actually, I really don’t remember when I got married, but I think I was married for two or three years,” I replied. “After that I was single for about a year and then dated and lived with someone for about six years,” I told her. “Wow, so you do long term relationships,” she said. “I guess so. I’ve been in a long-term relationship with myself for the last six years,” I told her. She nodded in response.
“Do you date?” she asked. “Do I date? I guess I date,” I said and added, “Most of the guys I ‘date’ live in other states or countries.” “Does anybody think it’s weird that you’re not really dating anybody?” she asked. “Besides me, now? No, I don’t think so,” I replied. “I mean, it’s just that it seems like you shouldn’t have any problems dating, you know,” she said, doing something my grandma once warned me about – digging a hole for so long it becomes a grave.
“My friend (Sleepless) once considered lining me up with a mailman because I like mail, but he looked too much like my brother,” I told her, trying to justify my single status. “Hmmm,” she said. Yes, hmmm. I like clothes, but I don’t want to date a tailor. I like eating, but I don’t want to date a server. I like wine, but I don’t want to date a sommelier. That said, I’d probably date a mailman, server or sommelier if they lived elsewhere.