Wherefore Art Thou Romeo? I know. GTFO...

So. Here I am. Loads of time on my hands lately, since I've given up on the penis set and stopped dating. Yes, yes...please send the donations and death casseroles to your local homeless shelters. It's all very tragic and sad, except of course when it isn't.
Yeah, I haven't figured it out either. That's a later post.

Moving on.

I've been doing a lot of Doozy thinking lately. Fuck. My. Life. Dudes.
Like my friend Hal says, I have a backlog of Doozies. And like my other friend James says "quit fucking around and write something."

So noted dudes.

The Tale of Lil' Romeo du Fromage

I'm not quite sure how to start this jaunty tale of romance, so let's just jump right in, shall we? First off, I'm digging way back into my electro-shock rolodex for this one - maybe 2011? I don't even remember this guy's real name, but man, I remember the interaction.

Let's just say that I met Lil' Romeo on OKCupid. He had a babyface, a few extra pounds and a great sense of humor on him. Plus he was trained as a chef. Super fucking duper!

Anyhoozle, we chatted for a bit before deciding to meet for coffee at a downtown place after work. The interaction was pleasant, Romeo was funny, and we had a good time. Before the end of the date, Lil' Romeo was asking me out for a second date.

Okay dokey.

We had set up a second date at his house, so Lil' Romeo could make me dinner. Now normally, I don't do second or even third dates at someone's house, but Lil' Romeo told me that he didn't have a car and it took him forever to use public transportation to get around.

But okay. I could give a middle aged guy the benefit of the doubt. People are going green, downsizing, all that. Of course, usually most people I know who are going carless, don't live in some rando northern burb. You know, they live in a downtown urban center with easy access to amenities and transportation.

But I digress.

So the second date came and I drove a long way to Lil' Romeo's place. He had a nice little apartment in a very nice complex. And shit, that guy could cook! Holy smokes, what a meal. We had good flowing conversation, lots of flirting and tons of laughs.

But

You just knew there had to be a but, right? This is me, Doozy. There's ALWAYS A "BUT"...

But

It was also during dinner that Lil' Romeo dropped a couple bombshells on me. First off, the reason that Romeo didn't have a car was that he was unemployed and on disability because he had Multiple Sclerosis. Which sucked bigtime. Second, he was a year out of rehab for alcoholism for the third time. And third, he was part of a state program where all of his expenses were paid for as part of his disability. So he basically was living in an "assisted living" situation where he was checked up on twice a day and ate his meals in a group dining room.

Um.

Annnnd, here's where I'm gonna sound like a big GIANT asshole. But fuck it. I can live with that at this point.

At first, my natural empathy (and ovaries) kicked in and I was all
"awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."

Because I really DID feel bad for Romeo that he was sick with MS, and struggling with addiction and basically living like a large child, even when wasn't that sick. What a super crappy situation to be in - for anyone.

But

WHAT
WAS
HE
DOING
DATING??

But wait, it gets better.

SHIT    YEAH    IT    DOES

Needless to say, things then got......weird? Awkward? Strange? after that data dump. I wasn't quite sure how to react. I mean, I felt bad for Lil' Romeo and he wasn't a doosh, not even remotely, just maybe lonely and wanting some sort of companionship and reassurance that he was still masculine and worthy? I dunno, just a hunch. But I wasn't his therapist, or his sponsor, or his doctor. I couldn't help him with any of his problems, especially on a second date. I didn't sign up for that, just a steak dinner.

I thanked him for a lovely time and I hoped that he would take care of himself. Our parting conversation went something like this (the details are a wee fuzzy, but this is the jist):

LR: "So when can I see you again?"

ME: "I'm not sure. This is a lot to take in at once. I need to think about how I feel. This is kinda heavy."

LR: "Totally understand. It sucks. But I just want you to know that I think you're absolutely gorgeous, wonderful and I think I love you."

Yes

YEP

DAMMIT YES. Let it allll sink in people. Right there. Take a moment. We can wait.

I'm not even fucking kidding you about this. It totally happened. Sigh. Lil' Romeo totally laid the Big "L" on me - an almost complete stranger. On the second date.

It felt like what I imagined that little girl in Poltergeist felt  when she was trapped in that giant ghost vagina behind the TV. Member that? 

I mean, really..can you imagine something like THIS coming out of your vagina? Well, me neither. Don't think there's a Vagisil for that...

"RUN TO THE LIGHT CAROL ANNE!"

That's how I felt when Lil' Romeo dropped the mutha of all bombshells on me.
Who does that? Besides Romeo of course...

Needless to say, I scooted out of there so fast your head would have spun. And I spent most of the long car ride home switching between banging my hand on the steering wheel and yelling;
"WHAT IS THIS SHIT?! AM I BEING PUNKED?!"
And crying.
Yep.
I totally started crying. Big baby that I am. There I was, Doozy Girl, out there looking for love, not giving up, going on all those stupid dates, always searching for the big, elusive Looovvvee, I finally got the word...and it was from an apparent crazy man. I knew it was meaningless and hollow, and I didn't feel one single thing back.

I don't believe in love at first sight (and I came really damn close with Pinocchio). I'm not that stupid.
As if.

But you know, the Universe has a way of giving you a little reach around when you need it to smack you on the ass. As it turned out, good old Lil' Romeo promptly freaked the fuck out on me the next day and sent me some long rambling texts about what a great person I was, blah blah blah-ti-la-blah, but he just couldn't burden his problems on someone else. Oh, and have a nice life.

Yeah.
No shit Sherlock.

Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave any comments or stories of your own below.
-Doozy.