The Near-Miss of the Wild
I'll make this short and sweet. I'm freaked out.
My former mother-in-law (hubby died several years ago) phoned a couple of nights ago to tell me a man was looking for me at church Sunday. I was out sick. (I'm sure working a 200-hour work week in a 168-hour week had nothing to do with that.)
And apparently Mystery Man was quite insistent on meeting me. I have no clue who it is, except apparently he knows someone who knows me. I did get a few details, like the fact that he's a widower with two girls of unknown age, that he plays the drums, and from the information I got, I gather he's wife-shopping again. It was interesting that I got all of this but nobody bothered to give me a name or enough of a physical description to pick him out of the photos at the post office.
I gotta tell you, I am most decidedly not wife material. I never had the luxury of being feminine. I spent too much of my time taking hell for wearing anything that might possibly be deemed attractive. I wasn't permitted to wear perfume or makup. I wasn't allowed to wear flattering clothing. I have had to work in a man's job not because of any militant feminist views, but because I've been my family's breadwinner since I was 19 years old and I took whatever job I could get. I got into radio, quite literally, because I was so pissed at my then-husband I told him that anyone could get a job if they'd get off of their lazy ass. He dared me to audition and I did. It never occurred to me at the time that if I applied for the job I might actually get it.
But back to the subject at hand. Over the course of the past few years, I've been stalked, assaulted, had a man break into my home, and have a second ex-husband who still won't let me live in peace eight years after I divorced him. (When I took this job, he moved here from another state with the plan that he was going to get me back - this despite the fact that in eight years I've never returned his letters/emails/phone calls.)
I haven't gone out in forever because I hit the point that the whole prospect made me ill. Don't get me wrong - I most assuredly like men. I just don't go anywhere in their vicinity, out of self-preservation.
Men generally avoid me. I am an extremely aggressive reporter and most men take that to mean I'm an aggressive bitch in every way. I'm not about to correct that bit of misinformation when it works so well for me.
But for some reason this guy must not have gotten the message. And I don't know what freaks me out more - that there's a man out there who's either that ignorant or has discovered my secret, or that my former mother-in-law has apparently now decided to play Yenta even though we're not Jewish.
What's more, she's now enlisted the aid of 00 and the other kids, which means I'll have the unparalleled joy of working against the whole lot of them.
So that leaves me to trust in my final and ultimate weapon. This guy's asking about me sight-unseen. One look at my ugliness and that ought to take care of him once and for all. If not, I'm thinking of heading for the wilds of Sibera.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )