AND THEN...HE GROPED ME.

me being better in person.

*editor's note: photos were taken at midnight last night during a flash of brilliance ( brought on by a wee bit of insomnia and significant hunger pains) that these visual aids would definitely enhance your understanding of what actually went down that night.  

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He (and when i say "he" i am referring to his online profile) was quite mysterious…only photos, no words.  After sending a couple of idiosyncratic texts to him, he informed me that he was French…to which I replied that we probably shouldn’t be texting each other back and forth like this because all of my cleverness would most likely be *lost in translation* on this forum.  i'm really better in person, anyway.

So we decided to meet for coffee the next day.  Which was nice.  He was a very beautiful man, not actually from France originally; born in the West African country of Senegal and then moved to France in his later years (high school or college i would guess) for school.  He moved to the United States a couple of years ago for additional schooling.  So I’m not certain why he needed to present himself as French versus Senegalese…more perceived appeal re: the "sexy frenchman" stereotype?  just a guess.

We talked at the café for about an hour and a half, during which time I learned he had been married twice and had fathered four kids, all of whom lived with their mothers.  In response, I mentioned my lack of desire to ever get married again, in addition to my desire to explore the potential for open/alternative relationships... 

He was not impressed.  We spend the last 30 minutes of our time together discussing how/why a situation where his significant other was seeing other people would be extremely upsetting for him. And didn’t I understand this?!? Well, he didn't really say that last part; it was more like a *look*, coupled by the tone in which he said "extremely upsetting".

And then - we parted ways, thanking each other for the time spent together.  It was nice…no fireworks, but I did entertain the idea of seeing him once again…if only in order to get further clarification on whether the glaring compatibility issues might be temporarily overlooked in favor of finding some sort of alternative arrangement...i don't know what i would exactly call that alternative arrangement...oh wait, yes i do. Denial. 

I heard from him several hours later that evening.  He texted me to ask if I wanted to join him for a walk around the lake.  I responded that I didn’t do much walking, but that sitting was OK for me.  So we decided to meet for dessert.  

We met, and it couldn't have been more than 5 minutes into the date when it really landed for me that he and I were not meant to be…in ANY capacity.  Nothing was going to work with this man…no configuration was possible, not even a temporary one.  For starters, we had a very difficult time understanding each other.  He speaks 7 languages, including French, English, and his native Senegalese tongue.  I, on the other hand, speak only ONE language, and often very idiomatically...some would just say *badly*, not to mention that i have started to forget words.  In other words, it’s difficult for a NATIVE English speaker to understand me, let alone someone who has English as a second (or seventh) language.  Not to mention, I tend to throw in a fake accent or two when I am REALLY feeling myself.  So, if you’re not a native English speaker, you could see how this habit of mine could work against clear communication with someone who really does have seven different accents!  And then, there was the part where he looked simply BORED with me - he kept rubbing his eyes and looking at his phone.  At one point, he pulled up photos of his former wife on his phone, to show me just how beautiful she really was, because this was the reason that he married her. The topic of beauty - his own beauty - had come about earlier, when he recollected to me his younger self, back in his pro soccer-playing days, and had pretty much had the entire field open to him.  The ex-wife was supposed to be proof of this past hey-day.  But he couldn't find the photo.  And i think he could tell i really couldn't give a rat's ass. 

me not giving a rat's ass how beautiful  his ex-wife was.

In the final analysis, he and i really just wanted different things, different relationships.  And the last time I got involved with a man under very similar circumstances (the part where we wanted different relationships) well, let’s just say it ended badly.  Really.  Badly.  So I’ve learned my lesson.  The hard way of course, but at least I did learn.  

And the first few times I mentioned to him that we just weren’t suited for each other, he immediately responded with reasons why he and I would, indeed work.  We went back and forth and around about this for a solid 20 – 30 minutes, until I was eventually quite fatigued by the whole ridiculous exchange and suggested that we wrap the night up. 

"You just grabbed my breast!"

We took a fairly awkward walk out to my bike, and when I leaned in from atop my bike to give him (what I thought) was the obligatory - if not friendly - "no hard feelings, thanks anyway” hug, he flung his right arm around my shoulder..and then groped my right breast with his other hand. 

If any of you have seen that comedy "Nurse Jackie", there is a doctor on the show who has this involuntary body-tick, where he inappropriately grabs women's breasts.  It felt sort of like that, except that my groper knew exactly what he was doing...nothing involuntary about it.  I was stunned for a moment.  And then i looked him square in the eye and said: You just grabbed my breast! (my voice going staccato on "breast!" for emphasis)  He said nothing.  And after taking a moment to collect myself, I grabbed both handlebars with gusto and determination, and rode off into the night. 

Several seconds later he called after me - ”Hey…hey!”  I didn’t turn around.  I rode like the wind to get home – and also to see if the speed could whip the violation from my body.  

What an asshole.  He texted me 30 minutes later “Have a wonderful evening”

I swear…some ppl. are simply and utterly clueless…and other ppl. suffer as a result. 

me waiting patiently, with grace and poise.

But I’m a resilient woman who knows not to take these kinds of things personally, as unpleasant as them may be.  And, after a hot bath and a good Palo Santo smudging, I was over it…and yes, i do indeed remain hopeful.  

Because what can I say, to find the one(s), you gotta kiss a lot of frogs…and ignore the occasional grope.