Divorced Dating and Damn Drama (20 page)

"Uhh, awe, ohh" Grunts the gym. At 5:15, Really? This is when people work out? It's so cold I'm starting to grow goose bumps on my goose bumps. I should have brought a jacket. Anyways, I said I would give it a shot, so I
will. Sara directs me
to a step machine. On the way over there I notice countless people working out. They are all in such good shape, it's intimating. We approach the machine. I get on and start walking. She gets on the one next to me and we go for a gym walk. I look over at Sara. Why is she smiling?

"Pisst, you, Sara." I try to get her attention. She looks in my direction inquisitively. "Why are you smiling?"

"Gyms are a great way to meet your future husband." She grinds. "You really need to stay positive and look your best at the gym." That's easy for her to say. Her body was sculpted after Barbie. What is this, I lift my hand and wipe my brow, I am breaking a sweat already. Man, people at the gym don't mess around. Plus I'm horribly out of shape.

"So how do I look" I ask, directing my attention back to Sara's smiling face.

"Not good, but it's your first day." We walk for what seems like forever then she leans over. "Do you see that cute guy by the weights?" She squeals. "He is totally checking you out and I happen to know from a reliable source that he is a lawyer." I look over towards the weights. And lo and behold it's Henry, my ex. He is six feet nine inches, with impeccable pecks. He is wearing some sort of Speedo with suspenders. He looks ridicules.

" Sara, I'm the source." I say blandly struggling to keep in pace with the machine.

"What are you talking about?" Sara whispers. She is easily mastering this walking device.

"That's my Ex husband and I was the one who told you that he was a lawyer." I stammer. Wow, this is hard stuff. My legs are on fire.

"Oh I'm so sorry. He is really good looking." Really good looking? He looks like a want-a-be wrestler. Emphasis on the wan-a-be. He is not a big guy; he is not a muscular guy. He meets the standards of wimpy fit.

"Whose side are you on?" I ask harshly while frantically looking at the buttons on this contraption. I don't know how much longer I can stay on this thing. I have to make a run for it.

"I'm on Sara's side." piped up Ruby. She is curdled up on the floor, like a cat, reading a book. She brought a book to the gym. Why didn't I think of that?

"What? I didn't know. You would think you would have mentioned he went to this gym." She replied licking her plump pink lips. He is not that attractive people, honestly. I lick my lips and realize they are cracked.

"Last time I checked he didn't." I hissed. I then, in anger, hit some buttons on the machine, like they do on TV. And yet, I had to get off because it started going too fast. Jokes on you, you stupid slave driver of a machine! I was done working out anyways. But, no I cannot leave. We all car pooled here, so I have to stay. I leaned that Sara works out for a full hour. A full hour? Who works out that long?

Now after I slaved away completing my course so I can get a certificate in literature analysis, the damn school disappears. Like it just dropped off the surface of the earth into a sink hole that has yet to be discovered. I paid the money, I bought the books. I turned in assignments every week and the damn school decides to disappear. Do you know how hard it is to work full time and go to school? I get it. It's only a certificate but I still worked very hard on it. I completed the course; they were supposed to send my certificate in the mail. It was supposed to come last Friday and when it didn't come I thought: no big deal, mail is late constantly. And I kind of think the mail lady hates me. I think everyone hates me sometimes; but anyways, I said it doesn't matter it will come next week. Well it's Friday and it still neglected to come. So I go to the website and it doesn't exist. The website cannot be found. I pick up my phone a call the administrative office, what? Yes, I wrote down the important numbers before I even signed up for the class.

"Hello, this is Terry, How may I help you?"

"Hi, this is Marissa Langerson. L-A-N-G-E-R-S-O-N. And I was wondering why I cannot log onto Gappa Gappa trade school. Is the website down for some reason, also I was supposed to receive a certificate in the mail a week ago and it never came."

"I'm sorry, what is the problem?" Terry asked.

"I never received my certificate." I say frustrated.

"What is your name?" Terry asks.

"Marissa L-A-N-G-E-R-S-O-N." I respond.

"You are not appearing in Resson Records." She informs me. Well I could have told her that.

"That's because I was attending Gappa Gappa trade school." I say through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, but I am not affiliated with that." She replies with a smile in her voice.

"Can you get me in contact with someone who is?" I ask, trying to sound nice.

"I'm sorry. I cannot find your school anywhere. Are you sure you attended it?" Terry asked. Really? This is really happening?

"It was an online trade school and it did exist." I say.

"Perhaps you would like to enroll in Ression's online certificate program? It's only 5,000 up front for a six week course in music." She pitches to me. Wow, I think she thinks I am a fool.

"I have to go." I lied then hung up. I can't believe I was such a fool.

What can I do now? I earned that certificate! Maybe I'll call the Better Business Bureau and report them! I'm so depressed!

I again find myself eating and messaging strangers online. This is a viscous cycle, I get upset so I eat and now that I'm single I message strangers online. I'm not perfect, I never claimed to know the answers, and I just wish I knew why all of this keeps happening to me. I really am trying here people. I'm trying to get my life together; I'm trying to move on. It just seems that every time my head barely gets above water, someone is right there to push me under and hold me forever suspended in the cold deep dark water.

"I think you are being self centered." Ned said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Ned is 29, lives in a condo and works as a gas attendant.

"It's just a college, they shut down not to piss you off, but to piss everyone else off." He tried to explain. What? I was really upset about the college shutting down. Not only my money, but my time as well. Those precious hours I will never get back.

"That makes sense." I agree meekly.

"You just need more self confidence. Have you ever ridden a bull?" He asks without hidden intentions. Again I am using sarcasm. Of course he had hidden intentions. Everyone has hidden intentions and it didn't take me long to discover his.

"No." I answer honestly while hoping he would tell me more.

"Well you can ride me
." He
smirks. This is the caliper of jerks I attract.

I should learn to walk in heels. That's what they told me. Not just my roommate but several guys. I show up to dates in flats and they complain. Why didn't I wear heels? Well, I don't wear heals for the same reason you don't, I can't walk in them. You should learn, they say. I used to get mad and tell them off about how if I have to wear heels they should learn to tuck in their shirts. But I have given up. I'll do it next time I say. I attempt to walk in some of Sara's heels and after falling multiple times on the kitchen floor, which the only floor not covered in carpet, I decide to try my luck on concrete. My knees are all scraped and bloody from falling in these blasted heels. This isn't worth it. Why am I required to walk in heels when my man isn't even required to clip his toe nails? It was definitely a MAN that invented heels! Probably to torture his wife!

So I got to texting Mathew, and it was going great. Great until I went to watch a movie in the living room and set my phone down on my bed absentmindedly. When the movie's over, I get twenty some odd texts calling me a selfish cunt bitch. What? I can't do something else; I have to constantly amuse him? This is getting worse. I can do other things people.

The next day I found a nice guy, Mark Mathews and we decide to go on a date this evening. He lives at home and only owns twenty snakes. He is a respectable warehouse manager who just happens to enjoy the adventures of My Little Pony.

"Neigh, neigh." said Mark. He came to our date dressed up as a My Little Pony cartoon character. This is a complete costume. He walks up to me on all fours and stands when he reaches the table I am seated at.

"What is this?" I ask staring at his getup.

"Oh, this?" Mark motioned to his intricately detailed costume. He has a pink mane and tail, shinny hooves, the fabric he used looks like real white horse hide. His eyes that were once brown are now colored purple with the help of colored contacts. "You knew I loved My Little Pony, and I just wanted to show you how much I loved them." He then does some sort of weird dance and starts to sing the theme song. I interrupt him.

"I wish you would have let me know, I would have dressed as wonder woman." I said trying really hard to laugh it off.

"Do not mock me!" Mark demands stamping his hoof.

"I'm not, sorry, I just didn't expect ..." I gestured to his outfit. "This."

"If you can't accept me for who I am, then I do not wish to date you." Mark says, and then proceeds to leave the building on all fours. I think I am magnet for the weird. Anybody who is weird is just drawn to me and I either overlook it or I
just don't care. Let's face it,
I overlook a lot. I just don't set the bar high but for some reason people still find a way to crawl under it. Get it? The bar is like limbo bar and its set low so people can step over it but instead people crawl under it. To be honest if I have to explain my metaphors then they really must stuck.

You know that awkward moment when you run into your high school enemy, you know the one you told off and said you thought you were better than them, in the super market. Yeah, so, I ran into Rachel, who was actually a bigger better nerd than me. What? My enemy can be someone who always showed me up in math class. She thought she was so smart. What? She has only launched three rockets into space. Big whoop. What? I hate her.

"Hi Mar." She approaches me with her cart loaded up. She has a car seat in the top half of the cart with her three month old baby boy.

"Hi Rachel." I say, envious of her baby. I think its Henry's. It sort of looks like him. If it is, then she should get some good child support.

"I noticed you at the reunion a while back." she said looking at some apples.

"Yeah, turns out I wasn't invited." I reply. I wonder if Henry and I had had a child if it would have looked this cute.

"I just thought it would have been awkward with Henry and everything." She said matter-of-factly.

"I know." I say turning to leave.

"I just launched the forth Rachel Express rocket into space." Rachel grabs my arm and shouts.

"Congratulations." I say freeing myself from her grip.

"Because I'm a rocket scientist." She smiles.

"I know." I say bluntly.

"So how is your class going?" She says grinning ear from ear. I have a feeling she know exactly how it is going.

"It's not." I reply.

"What happened?"' She asked with fake concern.

"It was a fly by night school." I respond.

"What a shame." She said putting her hands to her heart.

"Well, I wish I had time to chat, but Henry is waiting." She smiles. Really? Who isn't the guy sleeping with? Me, that's who.

Hey, I am nice person! Ok, I try to be a nice person when I feel I want to date you, and today I have a date with a professional boxer, like the real deal. Ford is googleable and is listed under M&R boxing site, which is the best local boxing company to be represented by. Ok, it is the only boxing company located in town. He has short black, hair, an ever so sexy tattoo on his arm, the whitest teeth in the world which really just shine in contrast to his mocha
complexion. I was able to
procure some of his training videos and let me tell you, wow. He is amazing; I have never seen a man move so gracefully and with such force. I could not help but drool when I watched him parade around in red boxing trunks and red boxing gloves. The way the light
would catch his eyes at certain moments in the video was God like. So we decide to meet just a short jaunt from the training center, and I have never been so excited
! He is a local celebrity. Does anyone else find it weird that someone actually good was on the dating site? I mean, what are the odds?

"It's just hard you know." Ford whispers after checking around to see if he was followed. I have no real idea what he is talking about. He just sat down and said this line. I think he is talking about boxing, yeah that makes sense.

"Yeah, it sounds like a lot of hard work." I happily agree.

"Yeah, it's the hardest job in the world." Ford says with confidence. Really? The hardest job in the world? One might think saving lives would be harder, but I let this go.

"I agree. It looks exhausting." I lie. I lie about the agreeing part, but the exhausting part is the truth. What? It does look exhausting.

"It is the single hardest job in the entire world." Ford boasts again.

"Ok." I stammer.

"But only some people can do it, the best of the best, and while it's the worst; it's the single greatest thing any human being can accomplish." Ford gloats.

"Well, that's a nice thought about your work, I'm glad to see you're so passionate about it." I admire. Kind of, it's kind of an admirable trait.

"You just do not get it do you." Ford spits.

"What don't I get again?" I ask. I thought we were getting alone. I was agreeing with everything he said.

"I'm quitting, it is too physically demanding." Ford drops, like a diva at prom.

"Oh." I say, trying not to show my disappointment.

"This job is harder than child birth." Ford rants. "I just want to settle down and start a new life." He says looking around. Is he expecting someone?

"Oh, me too." I squeal. Hey, maybe he will take me with him. I want to leave this town so bad.