6 – That’s Mister Detective Handcuffs to You: A Dating Odyssey in Two Parts

20 May

Neimans handcuffs

Saturday night was prom (yes, I teach high school…and if any of you are considering it, DON’T DO IT!) and I ended up there because I was hoping to seduce the hot Science teacher whose room is next to mine.  Also, I went because my spur-of-the-moment invite to the beach (by FWB Kenneth) flopped like an elderly man’s flaccid penis (and you know how I detest *old*).

Part One

My Chimerical Trip to the Beach: Thursday night Kenneth called me and asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with him that weekend.  And when I say Thursday night, I mean 9:00 pm –ish…so I say, “Sure.  Are we going in the convertible?”  Cause the drive is four to five hours, and I know he can’t think that I’m going to drive.  He hesitates.  “Well, you know the other car won’t make it, but the convertible is a gas guzzler.”  I don’t say anything.  I am thinking I know this dickweed can’t think I’m driving, because this last minute trip was not my idea!  I drive an SUV!  That’s a fucking gas guzzler, too! “I’ll have to work all that out.  I will give you more details about the trip tomorrow.”  So I remind him that I do have a dog, and I will need enough time to make arrangements for her.

Next day…

FWB calls me at 6:45pm, smack dab in the middle of me trying to pay attention to Jen Lancaster’s book talk!  I, obviously, did not answer the phone.  So I return his call around 8:00pm.  He explains that his parents will be at said destination, and that all accommodations are paid for…we just need to get there.  Okay, so I’m in!  My heart starts to race.  I begin to think that he *finally* wants to introduce me to his parents as his girlfriend (you are allowed to start laughing now, really, it’s okay) seeing as how we’ve been fucking around for the past three years…never mind the fact that he had a live-in girlfriend for 2.5 of those years (it’s all so convoluted…because the only reason they are no longer together is because she died due to sudden illness six months ago…and…well…FWB guy will have to be a separate post)!

Anywho…I begin to scramble around and attempt to pull this spur-of-the-moment trip off.  I also do my best job to ignore the nagging little voice in my head saying, “You shouldn’t go.  If he REALLY wanted to go with YOU then he would have given you a few days more of a notice.”  But I kicked that annoying little nagging bitch in the mouth and kept it moving!  I cleaned, washed, packed, shaved, plucked, and primped…all the while singing “He wants me to meet his family” ( Oh, God, if only I had said “No”).  I had even found a place, other than her normal boarding place, for my baby girl to stay for the weekend.  I was trying to find peace with the fact that she was late on her shots and would have to stay in a bootleg boarding place (for bootleg owners) while I paid THREE TIMES the amount I normally paid…just to pull this thing off!

I’m getting to the handcuffs part…really! J

It was 2:00 am before I went to bed.  I was supposed to drop my little lady off at Boot Leg Kennel, Inc, and then drive to Kenneth’s apartment by 7:30/8:00 am.  I don’t really know how it happened, but I totally overslept…to the tune of 9:15am.  I woke up feeling rested and completely ignorant of the fact that I was supposed to be on the road that very minute.  It hit me like lightening and I called.  An extremely pissy Kenneth answered the phone.

Me: I’m so sorry!  I overslept!  I slept right through my alarm, and I never heard your call!  I can be over there ASAP.  I’m already packed and everything.

Kenneth: How do you know I haven’t already left?

Me: Have you?

K: No…but now it’s too late.

M: No it’s not.  I can be over there in no time.  I’m already packed.  I’ve just got to drop the dog off.

K: Well…if you can be here in 45 minutes then we can go, but if it’s any later than that then I’m just going to make other plans to do something else.

Now, this is where I want to wedge my foot deeply into his ass while screeching my champion battle cry of “Fuck you!”  Is he fucking kidding?  I have 45 minutes to get there?  HA!

M (as nicely as possible because I have an explosive temper once ignited): No…don’t do it like that…I already have to take the dog to a bootleg kennel and pay three times the amount I normally would, due to the short notice.  I don’t want to drive all the way to your house, after doing that, and have you tell me that you don’t feel like going anymore!

K: Okay, then…I don’t think we should go.

M: You sure?

K: Yep.  I’ll talk to you later.

WOW!  Talk about let down…I got in the shower, sent FWB a text asking him (once more…making an idiot out of myself) if he was sure. He didn’t respond.  I called his phone, and he didn’t answer.  I called again (no…I don’t usually call a man back-to-back…extenuating circumstances) and this time he had turned the phone off.

…Bitch made ass n*&%a!

It was then that I realized (after at least four total hours of talk time between my mother and a good-advice-giving-girlfriend) that Mother Nature had done me a favor by not allowing me to wake up.  I didn’t need to go anywhere with him because I’m better than that shit (the real test will be when he calls again…I’m supposed to ignore the call a few times).

…So I guess I am going to prom…

Part Two

Detective Handcuffs was the lighthouse beacon that reeled me in as soon as I entered the threshold of the hotel.  I thought he was hotel staff, and I needed to know what floor the prom was on and how I could get there without stepping foot inside an elevator (Read claustrophobic control freak).  Dec. Handcuffs was more than willing to guide me to the lower-level of the hotel.  He told me that he was not hotel staff; however he was working the prom as security.

He told me that he remembered seeing me at work (stalker).  I remembered, too (after he jostled my memory by retelling the conversation I had with another co-worker while he was in the room).  And let me tell you, this man is handsome…handsome…handsome…Large shoulders and arms, 6’3”, smooth walnut brown skin, shaved head, well-spoken, in shape…ummm…and he had a loaded gun…and a pair of shiny silver handcuffs.  I caught sight of them and my mind spiraled into all sorts of sex fantasies involving HIM chained to a bed (lol) and me…well…you get the picture! J

Det. Handcuffs: So what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here without a date?

Me: Long story (sigh)…

D: Ya man ain’t treatin you right?

M: Something like that.

D: See, these young guys don’t know how to treat a woman.

M: (Laughing) Young!  You can’t be more than 35 or 37 yourself!

D: (REALLY laughing) Baby, I will be 47 on Monday.

GASP!  Old School Sexy Alert!  I think I’m rolling in my pre-dug grave!  I’m enchanted by an O.S.S.?  Damn!  There really is a first for everything!

M: You don’t look a day over 35!

D: Well how about we meet up on the third floor after this thing is over?

GULP!  I don’t do one-night stands (anymore).

M: Well, I guess I better go inside the banquet room and find my seat.

D: So you scared?

Then his hands came out of his pockets…oh no…married!  BOO!  I fled the scene with a sly laugh…hoping he got the message.  But, apparently, he did not because I spent the rest of the night “running” from him.  He sat at my table, coincidentally ended up in the picture line right behind me, and called his phone from my cell phone when all of us teachers left the table to do the Electric Slide with the students (damn Electric Slide).

He called me three times between 9:00pm – 11:00pm, leaving the same fucktarded message, “Hello.  This is Detective Handcuffs.  Someone called me from this number, and I am returning the call.” UGH!  I think that it is needless for me to say that I completely ignored him!  Dating a married man is a forbidden zone in my book.

The thing I learned from all of this is to never say never!  There really are some old school sexy men out there that I may, one day, consider…unmarried, preferably!  I feel sorry for Det. Handcuffs’ wife…he sucks as a husband.


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