Living Happily Ever After
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Bachelor #7: The Tallest Man in The World

Date: June 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

The one thing you could call my new life is unexpected. Definitely.

And if you were going to name my divorce anything, aside from unexpected (definitely), I would say it should be called, “The Divorce of Dating Basketball Players.” Bachelor #7 is just one more reason why.

When I was single the first time, in the beloved 1980s, I loved athletes and tall men. I dated some basketball players, football players, golfers, swimmers, rugby players, baseball players, volleyball players, even a gymnast (that is a blog in itself!); but the tallest guy I ever dated was a 6’8″ U.S. Olympic Volleyball player. My divorce changed all of that.

My divorce of Dating Former Basketball Players.

Now the tallest man I’ve ever dated is a 6’9″ former college basketball player.

Hello, Bachelor #7.

He was a very handsome, very fit, very nice man who had been married even longer than I had been. (I didn’t meet many men who had been married to the same woman for 20 years or longer.) He had a good job, financial stability and owned his own home. (Also not that common, in my single experience.) Our birthdays were one month apart. He loved to travel and spoke Spanish. His kids were in college, he had a very carefree existence and worked out two hours every day at the gym. (Who has time for that? A single man!)

The usual first date conversation always included questions about how long you were married, why you got divorced and when you got divorced. Bachelor #7 didn’t ask me any of that. So I asked him. He hesitated on that last question. He looked at me, sheepishly, and told me I didn’t want to know when he’d divorced. Of course, then, I had to know.

Hesitatingly, he said, “June 2009.” He didn’t want to tell me when he’d divorced because it had occurred so “recently.” He was afraid I’d run the other way. I just laughed. And he was the one who laughed when I told him I’d divorced even more recently than that–July 2009!

Neither of us had met anyone as new to everything that was the unexpected, single life as we both were. Our inexperience bonded us. We laughed a lot and had a lot of fun. We helped each other adjust. We helped each other heal.

He introduced me to his passion: scuba diving.

He even took me to his work parties. Talk about pressure! Going on a date and knowing your behavior could positively or negatively impact a man’s career! THAT was a lot of trust he placed in me. We joked about that–and that fact that we hoped my leopard-print heels and friendly conversation got him a promotion! (I’ll say one thing about Bachelor #7. It was so nice to wear any heel of any height and not worry about my height. Even at 5’9″ and in heels, I never even got close to being able to see over his shoulder!)

It was definitely a relationship of “opposites attract.” Those who know me best know how absolutely un-technological I am, especially when it comes to computers. Bachelor #7 was an I.T. guy!

We were at the same stage of divorce recovery–happy being single, not anxious to get married the first year after our divorce, but neither of us wanted to be single three years later. (Aren’t we particular? I hope our plans work out for us! Lol.)

We went through some “firsts” together, too, like first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Year’s Eve single again, going on a date on his original wedding anniversary, etc… Yet he could never quite get past the fact that I had “four children and not one of them were his.” (His words.)

I could not get past his height, believe it or not (and one or two other less shallow things!) Anyone who knows me knows I LOVE height. So I was shocked to discover I eventually thought he was too tall! I didn’t like having to hold my arm “up” when he held my hand. I wasn’t used to that. The voice of experience, (my teenage son) told me to get over it; “welcome to the world of how it is for most women, or short women, when they hold hands with someone.”

But I couldn’t. As Julia Roberts said, “I’m too tall to be a girl. I’m between a chick and a broad.”

I couldn’t get over that, or the sense that Bachelor #7 just wasn’t that into the idea of raising a four-year-old. I couldn’t blame him. He’s turning 50 this year!

We dated about five months and just drifted apart. I guess I got busy with other things (other people.) He finally asked if I’d met someone. I responded to that query in my usual way of responding to something I don’t want to–I ignored it and didn’t respond! Instead, I lined him up with a friend of mine.

I hope they hit it off.

Adios, to the tallest man in MY world! Adios, Bachelor #7.

Bachelor #6: The Ghostbuster

Date: June 27, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Computer dating is fine… if you’re a computer.” ~ Rita Mae Brown

I met Bachelor #6, a former semi-pro basketball player, online. He was friendly, funny and had led a very interesting and colorful life.

I was upfront about having four children. His response? “No problem, I love children. I have three daughters of my own and the last woman I was married to had six kids!”

The LAST woman he had married? I asked for clarification on that, he said he didn’t want to scare me off, but he admitted to having been married twice already.

My perspective of marriage and dating had changed a lot after being single and meeting other singles. What in my experience most of my adult life had not been that common (divorce), was now very common in my new world. And what was becoming almost the norm for most men I met, was having been married and divorced more than once. I tried to keep an open mind. After all, that is what I expected people to have about me.

Then I moved on to the big one. The part about me having a former spouse in prison. For many, that can be a deal breaker. (And I blame no one who finds that it is. Until I became the unaware and innocent spouse of a man who confessed to running a Ponzi scheme and was now imprisoned, I would have felt the same way, I’m sure!) It was best to get the bigger details of my life out into the open right away.

Bachelor #6 took the criminal behavior of my former spouse in stride. He told me most people would judge me about that, but not him. He felt only one perfect person had ever lived on the earth and only one person was qualified to judge others. Besides, he had relatives in prison!

Was he meant for me or what? Lol.

He was a GREAT storyteller and had a lot of good stories (mostly based on his life and his experiences.) He lived in his own place, but cooked dinner for his parents who lived in the same town every night. And..he believed in ghosts! He had lived with one and talked to it. A lot.

“An idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself.” (Charles Dickens)

The relationship lasted four months. Before it ended, there was a marriage proposal. It would never have worked though. Although I loved his height and his sense of humor, we were very different and had very different experiences. In spite of my past (the former spouse in prison thing), I couldn’t quite come to terms with his. And besides, he was a bit too friendly with ghosts for my comfort!

“WHO YA GONNA CALL? GHOSTBUSTERS!”

On to the next one. Bachelor #7.

Well-Meant Advice?

Date: June 24, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

As I returned to the dating scene after 20 years of marriage to the same man, and following my divorce from that man as soon as his criminal behavior and Ponzi scheme was revealed to me, I got some unsolicited, but well-meant advice from a neighbor.

He came over one day to tell me he noticed I’d begun dating.

I was surprised anyone knew. I certainly wasn’t trying to hide my activities, but due to work and children and my busy life, the dates usually didn’t begin until 8 p.m. or 9 p.m. and it was dark well before then. He said, “Oh no. This is a tight knit neighborhood, it’s a very small world, we watch out for each other, we’ve seen men and cars coming and going, we know.”

He told me that when he saw me move in, single, with four children, his first thought was, “Oh no, here we go.” He told me experts advise single people with children to remain single until all of their children are raised. He told me 40-year-olds just want to get married, and actually the best thing for 40-year-olds to do, is to keep dating “on the perimeter” and instead, raise your children. Lastly, he told me no man was going to want me and my four children.

I was a little confused as the man had been married, and divorced, several times. He told me of the struggles he had gone through, many of them child-related, and that was why he was sharing his thoughts. He also told me that he and his current wife were the one-in-a-million miracle of remarriage, and that if I knew their story, I would understand why they had married but that theirs was a very unique situation.

I was stunned.

I was raised on fairy tales. I love happy endings. I had always tried to be a good person, I believed in hard work, I wasn’t a quitter, I sought to have hope time and again even in spite of getting thrown into the deepest messes (not of my own creation) and carry on as best I could no matter what…and there wasn’t one more miracle out there?

I believe, “For every mountain there is a miracle.” (Robert H. Schuller) I’d seen enough tender mercies and miracles in my own life and in the lives of others to know, “We can see a thousand miracles around us every day. What is more supernatural than an egg yolk turning into a chicken?” (S. Parkes Cadman) We just have to look for them.

But I didn’t say any of that. I simply said the experts’ advice didn’t work for me. I had been married, and happily so (I thought) for 20 years. I liked being married and I believed in marriage and if I waited until my last child was raised to begin dating, I wasn’t going to even BEGIN dating until I was almost 60 years old! I felt way too young to waste my “youth,” not to mention the fact that I didn’t love being single…or alone…or lonely. Having had 20 years of companionship, I REALLY noticed its void in my life.

My neighbor left, his advice weighed heavily upon me, and in the end as I had done my entire life, but especially during the events of 2009, I had to continue to do what I felt was best for me and for my children. Despite what the critics thought. So although I appreciated his good intentions, I disagreed with the counsel he had volunteered, and I chose to continue the course I’d set and the decision I had made to date. (And of course, I called my sister and a trusted friend and got their opinion. Just to be sure.)

On to the next man.

“Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women.” (Marion Smith/Nicole Hollander)

*Just kidding about the above quote. I love and appreciate men. I just thought it was funny and had to share! I know women break the law too, it just has been my experience that SOME men do participate in illegal activities, like Ponzi schemes…:)

Fred Flintstone and The Grandpa

Date: June 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met the next bachelors, Bachelor #3 and Bachelor #4 (if they qualify as that–I’ll explain later), at a Sunday night religious meeting for singles in Utah.

I walked in the door of the church building to brave my second such meeting and was stunned when four men rushed over and introduced themselves to me in the foyer. Two asked me where I was sitting. (I hadn’t even entered the chapel yet. I didn’t have a seat.) Like a deer caught in headlights, again, I said, “I’m not sure yet. I don’t even know if I’m staying!” I left them and headed into the chapel.

A man came up to me as I walked in the door, shook my hand and introduced himself. He asked me where I was sitting. My answer hadn’t changed. “I’m not sure yet. I don’t even know if I’m staying!”

I went across the room, toward the back, and sat in the corner against the wall–trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It worked, too, until a very loud man with a shaved head walked in. He walked past my row, glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he passed by but kept walking, then he stopped, turned around and came and sat down right in front of me! He turned around, introduced himself, and began talking to me. In fact, he turned around and talked to me through the entire prelude like we’d come together or were there as a couple, or at least knew each other! I was mortified. At a break in his conversation, I excused myself.

I went and sat on the other side of the chapel, toward the front this time, but still against the wall.

A man wandered over (Bachelor #3) shook my hand and introduced himself. He asked me what I was doing there. I replied, “Just here to hear the speaker.”

He said, “Aren’t you a little young to be here?”

I was stunned. I thought I was at the Sunday meeting for 31 years old and older. Had I gone to the wrong place? I asked, “Isn’t this for 31 years old and older?” He said yes. I said, “Then I’m at the right place.” He said, “How old are you? Look around–I’m 52 years old. You are by FAR the youngest person here. Do you have kids? What are their ages?”

When I told him I was 42 years old and had a four-year-old, he nodded his head knowingly and said, “I told you you are a little young to be here. No one here is under 50. And no one is going to want a four-year-old at this age.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t feeling like I belonged many places I went as a single, for one reason or another, and then I was being told I didn’t even belong at a singles event for my age group? What else was new?

The meeting began; our conversation ended. The good news? I was alone on the bench!

I sat and listened to the presentation. I didn’t feel like I totally belonged, but I was doing o.k. until the special musical number. A man stood and sang a song I’d never loved, but it had been sung at my mom’s funeral and had affected me every time I’d heard it since then. That night the words hit me in a whole new way. And I wondered what my parents had to be thinking about the disaster-at-times life that was now mine. Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

Not that I could stop the tears from coming, but I thought I was being very discreet about experiencing them. I wasn’t sobbing, or shaking, or anything. Just subtly wiping them away as I sat and listened to the music. And then, from out of nowhere, it happened.

Well, actually, I’m pretty sure it came from behind me.

Unexpectedly, I felt a hand from behind touch my shoulder and squeeze. And didn’t let go. I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t dare acknowledge it. The only thing I felt I could do was pretend it wasn’t happening!

“…It’s all just pretend. That’s what’s fun about it.” (James Spader) NOT.

Periodically, through the rest of the meeting, I felt a hand on my shoulder and a squeeze. Every time, I’d freeze (probably stiffen) and wait for it to go away! I was reminded, again, there are just some things in life you never expect to experience. That night, I got several!

When the meeting was over, I stood up to leave and the man who had been sitting behind me (I assumed he must have been the shoulder squeezer) said, “If you ever want to talk about it…” I thanked him and told him I was fine. He kindly offered to connect me with singles events more my age. I gave him my email as he requested, and headed out the door.

But before I made it to my car, an old man stopped me. Seriously old–probably pushing 70. He introduced himself as a professor at a local university, told me about himself, asked me about myself…and asked me out on a date! I NEVER saw that one coming. Thank you, Bachelor #4!

Before I could respond to Bachelor #4, a woman came by, grabbed me by the arm, marched me away and said, “Just because you’re single, DOES NOT MEAN you have to be kind to everyone. How long have you been divorced? You’ll learn. I just wanted to get you out of there. Save you.” And she walked away.

I ran into Bachelor #4 a few times after that, and every time he asked me out. Each time I got away without answering. How do you reject a grandpa? (Because I didn’t actually date him, I don’t know if he qualifies as Bachelor #4. But to honor him for his tenacity and his quest for youth, I’ve given him a number.)

That night, however, I went home my usual alone, checked my email before bed to get a jump on what was in store for me the next day, and there was a contact from Bachelor #3–telling me how nice it was to meet me, sharing more about himself, giving me a link to a singles site more my age…and asking me out!

How did I respond?

I did what I do best. I ignored it. I thanked him for the singles info and left it at that. I ran into him a lot after that, and he was always friendly. He even started to seem familiar, in a way, and I couldn’t figure out why. Until one time, I was with a man at an event, ran into Bachelor #3 and he asked a little of the history behind my association with Bachelor #3. I explained. He laughed. When I asked what was so funny, he said, “I just never pictured you dating Fred Flintstone.”

As soon as he said that, it hit me why Bachelor #3 seemed so familiar! Yabba-dabba-DOO!

Thank you, Bachelor #3.

A P.S. To The Bee Gees

Date: June 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ve been told it’s a small world, especially among Utah singles. I’d heard they all knew each other and were quite inter-connected. But when I first moved here, and didn’t know a soul, I wasn’t sure that I believed that.

However, at the second singles dance I went to, I already started seeing familiar faces and recognizing people. So I quickly realized it was probably true.

How funny, then, that the small world became even smaller at the third singles dance I went to. (I have been to four of them total now.)

I was alone, didn’t know anyone, and I saw a group of “younger” looking, attractive blonde women who looked to be having a good time laughing together, so I went over and introduced myself. We got to chatting and discovered we had friends in common. I couldn’t believe it. I’d lived in Utah less than six months and had already become part of that small world in a single way.

Scary.

One gal brought up the subject of dating, and each started sharing their worst date. One talked about a guy who talked only about his money and what everything cost. One talked about a guy who blared the radio like he was in high school. One talked about a guy who starved himself and didn’t eat. I started to share my story about this psycho guy who’d been a total loser all night long, but the best was when he dropped me off and asked me if I wanted him to call him again. Suddenly I stopped, mid-sentence. I put it together fast.

I asked, “Where did your crazy dates live?”

All three women said their dates had lived in the Bee Gees mountain retreat!

We looked at each other and laughed. All of us had dated the same man, one time only, and every one of us had the same type of experience! Every one of us had the same opinion of him, too: Liar. Lunatic. Crazy. Insane.

Just to clarify, we asked among ourselves, “Did the guy survive some huge fall while rock climbing–75 feet or more?” (The final Bachelor Bee Gee trivia that put a nail in the coffin of his identity. Every one of us had heard him tell that story. He had shown me the newspaper articles and pictures while giving me a tour of the Bee Gee pad.)

Same guy.

We put his lunacy down to the fact that he had survived a fall like that. We figured it must have damaged his brain as well.

And THAT is Bachelor Bee Gee.

“I’ve Gotta Get A Message To You” Bachelor #2. Two words. The End.

Bachelor Bee Gee

Date: June 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Bachelor #2 (aka. Bachelor Bee Gee) was paranoid about houses. At least that’s the impression I got. He asked me out on a date, for dessert, but insisted on meeting me at a nearby parking lot rather than my home or the restaurant. He told me he never let anyone know where he lived on the first date.

Should that have been my first clue?

I met him at the parking lot he designated, he helped me into the cab of his giant white truck and he turned on the engine and revved it–a sign of things to come. High school.

Again?

He put the truck in gear and drove toward the restaurant. As he drove, he reached over and turned on the stereo. It was blasting so loud I thought he was joking with me, you know, turning up the radio and blaring an 80s song to act young for me or something. But no, he didn’t even look at me. He was too busy singing along and bouncing in his seat and I realized it wasn’t 2009 anymore for at least one of us on the date! The music was so loud it hurt my ears. And then he began to shout over it.

“Do you like the music?”

“What?” I asked.

“Do you like this song? This music?”

I had to reach over and turn it down to hear his question. When I finally figured out what he was asking me, and with my ears still ringing, I realized it was a hard rock song I hadn’t heard since the 1980s. High school. Again.

As we drove he told me all about the song I was hearing and how much it cost him to purchase it; that he had every song from the 80s loaded into his system and how much each song had cost; and the grand total he had spent on music. Then he moved on to the benefits and features of his stereo system–how much he had paid for everything. And then what he had paid for his truck. And then the travel he planned to do in the next few months–and how much he planned to spend.

The whole drive to the restaurant was like that. He talked about everything he owned and how much everything had cost–all the while shouting over the 80s hard rock music he had blasting. I wondered (not for the first time, since I began dating) if I was being punked!

No such luck.

We arrived at the restaurant, the hostess seated us, gave us the dessert menus, and we chatted while deciding what to order. The server arrived to take our order and Bachelor Bee Gee directed me to order first. I did. The served looked at him, expectantly, but he closed his menu and said, “I’m not having any dessert. I don’t like sugar. In fact, I rarely eat.”

Total “Jive Talkin’.”

Then why in the heck had he asked me out for dessert?

The server raised his eyebrows at me before walking away. He seemed to say, “Where in the world did you find this winner?” He didn’t want to know the truth. Online. “I Started A Joke” the day I got online.

I offered to cancel my order so we could do something more to his liking, he said no, and proceeded to tell me how he ate only every 3-4 days and that he never ate dessert. (I thought, “This is going to be a long night. Maybe when he sees I eat sugar, then he’ll take me home early!”) I wondered how he was going to entertain me while I ate dessert. I soon found out.

He decided to entertain me with strange facts about himself, like the “fact” that he lived in a home that was once owned by the Bee Gees. He said it had been the Bee Gees’ mountain retreat in Utah. (Hence the name, Bachelor Bee Gee!) He told me about talking to the Bee Gees on the phone, negotiating the deal, etc…

My dessert came, I ate a little but saved most of it to take home to my kids. I figured Bachelor Bee Gee may not eat sugar, but my kids would enjoy a treat courtesy of the man who starved himself and apparently, liked to watch other people eat dessert! We weren’t at the restaurant long. There is nothing appetizing about eating dessert in front of someone who not only isn’t having any, but who never eats any–or for that matter, supposedly, never eats food!

We got in his truck, and instead of driving me back to the parking lot as I expected, he started driving toward the mountains. I thought maybe he was taking a shortcut to the parking lot that I didn’t know about (I was still new in town, he was not) but finally I figured out we weren’t heading to where I wanted to go. I asked, “Can you tell me where we’re going?”

He told me, “We’re going to my house–to the Bee Gees’ mountain retreat.”

I said, “Wait. I thought you didn’t let anyone see where you lived on the first date.”

He looked at me, winked, and said he wasn’t worried about me. He had a feeling that I was “safe.” I wasn’t worried about me either. But I was seriously starting to wonder about him!

We pulled up to the house and it wasn’t what I had expected: a 70s-style house in the middle of a neighborhood. I tried to imagine why the Bee Gees would buy a house like that and put it in the middle of a normal neighborhood. If I were coming to enjoy the Utah mountains, and traveling from down under to do it, and if I were a celebrity, I think I would want a bit more privacy!

I walked in the door, expecting a total 1970s-style, funky house and it was not what I expected. He took me on a tour and showed me where every Bee Gees decorating touch had been, what it had been, and showed me how he had ripped it out and replaced it with something modern! There was absolutely nothing BeeGees about the house at all. What a waste! It was a “Tragedy!”

He took me into the family room of the house. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. (That should have been my first clue.) Suddenly, and mysteriously, BeeGees mood music came on and I realized a serious case of “Night Fever” might be coming my way. It was time for me to focus on “Stayin’ Alive.” Literally.

I told him it was late, I had to work the next day, it was time for me to go home, and I headed for the door. It was almost as if his truck was calling, “Run To Me.” So I did just that.

He took a while to come out of the house. As I stood there in the dark and cold waiting for him, I imagined having to have to call my teenager to come pick me up and give me a ride home. (If the previous events of 2009 hadn’t scarred him, THAT probably would have! lol) But fortunately Bachelor Bee Gee came out and gave me a ride to my car–music blaring, no shouted conversation this time. I think he got the hint.

But that is the amazing thing about dating. About men. Just when you think men understand, you realize some of them don’t! He must have thought he was a “Heartbreaker.” We got to my car, I opened my door and jumped out. He looked at me and asked, “Hey, would you like me to call you again?”

I was stunned! A wave of…change…washed over me, as I realized in that moment that just a few months earlier I’d been married (and married for 20 years), I’d had stability and security; and yet there I stood, living a completely different life, divorced, single, and ending a date with a virtual stranger who was whack-o. All I could do was laugh!

I couldn’t answer him, I was laughing too hard. (You know, as I’ve said before. In life, you can choose to laugh or cry: I choose to laugh!) I never did answer him. Instead, I laughed all the way to my car. And as I opened my car door I heard him call out, “Remember, the phone line works both ways!”

I drove home, walked up to my room, realized how fortunate I had been and stopped laughing. A wave of “Emotion” washed over me and I burst into tears at the unexpected life that was now mine. “Alone.” I couldn’t comprehend that Bee Gees-wannabes were my destiny. If that was the case, I didn’t think it was possible “To Love Somebody.”

I didn’t think my love was deep enough.

“I was always the one left behind. Out in the streets, when they saw me they’d say, ‘That’s just one of the Bee Gees.’” (Maurice Gibb)

The 2nd Time Around

Date: June 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Like I said, things with Bachelor #1 were ending. We ended up seeing each other one more time after the night he told me that to continue seeing each other was too painful for him, but I planned ahead. That last week, as I sensed things were ending, I decided to try the online thing again.

I still wasn’t sure, being new in town and single and commuting to work in another city, how to meet and make local friends. The one Sunday meeting, and the one singles dance, hadn’t helped me. The online option was the only one
I knew to try.

The second time around, I was optimistically hoping to last longer than 24 hours. I felt much better prepared. I had some dating experience under my belt, the rebound relationship had come and gone, and I went into it expecting some unusual surprises so I didn’t think I would be as shocked (and afraid) at what came my way!

So, before my last date with Bachelor #1, I switched to a different online site (I’d heard there were “better” people on there) and signed up online.

I posted my picture and info, and then, like watching stock move up the Dow, began to see the activity around my bio. The site shows you who is checking out your profile. The numbers can be unexpected–200+ men in 24 hours is not uncommon. I couldn’t imagine there were that many people trying to meet people. And at all hours of the day.

The online traffic was something I was careful of. So although a lot of people posted picture of themselves with their kids, I didn’t. As a mother, I didn’t have a single picture of myself without at least one of my children in the frame, and I wasn’t about to take special pictures just to post online, so I just made sure I was alone in anything I posted on a singles site. It required some careful cropping.

I heard from some men who had contacted me my first time online–I guess they’d switched sites, too, or they were on multiple sites!

I heard from widowers.

I heard from men from all backgrounds, all across the country, and even some from the Baltic. I think the quest for international friendships is huge online, based on some of the profiles that came my way that specified up front: “If you don’t speak English, don’t even bother contacting me!”

I even heard from celebrities. (Well, their pictures anyway!) There was one man I was pretty sure was using pictures of Guy Ritchie, Madonna’s ex-husband, for his profile. And several others I think were posting professional modeling photos, of other people, as theirs. It was entertaining!

I’d walk into work each morning, and my team wanted to know how the online situation was. I gave a few co-workers my password so they could have a good laugh at my online contacts, and it was a source of entertainment during many a lunch hour.

I gave my sister my password, too, so she could occasionally check things out on my behalf and make sure she felt good about things. (I trust her judgement.)

But eventually, sharing my password with so many turned out to not be so good. I started getting frustrated messages from men that I was online and not responding to them when in fact, it hadn’t been ME online! I explained I had lots of friends in my corner, helping me and giving me input. THAT went over well–scared quite a few men off! But that was o.k. by me. Given the public nature of my divorce and the whole unexpected life, financial devastation, destroyed credit, four children…my life was not for the faint of heart and I knew it. If men couldn’t take some degree of a lack of privacy, after all I had lived through, they weren’t for me!

And, just what I was hoping for, I heard from local men too.

Hello, Bachelor #2. Or should I say, “Bachelor Bee Gee”?

You Can’t Be Single In Utah Without…

Date: June 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ll cut to the chase.

Since being single for the second time, I’ve learned a lot about myself. For one, I’ve realized I’m not a facial hair kind of gal. Too bad you can’t be a single male in Utah without…a goatee!

My preference for a smooth shave is a bit of a problem for me; because 90% of the men I’ve met and dated have had facial hair of some type, most a goatee. The first time I was single (in the 80s) I think I dated two guys with mustaches. And it didn’t work for me. At the time, I thought I just wasn’t interested in the guys. But now I realize it must have been the facial hair!

“You know, with that goatee, you kinda look like Satan.” (Joey, to Chandler, on “Friends”)

Joey wasn’t that far off! lol. I just think nothing makes a man look older than gray facial hair. And at my age, most men have that. Another reason to sport a clean-shaven face, in my age-paranoid opinion!

But, facial hair or not, I stay in the game. Because I’m an optimist. Although I was deceived by my husband in the biggest and unexpected ways for nearly two decades, and terribly betrayed in the other ones before it was over, I’m still looking for my “fairy tale” ending. My happy ending. Call me crazy, but I’m holding out for it! I just hope it doesn’t come attached to a goatee.

Until then, “Men are my hobby, if I ever got married I’d have to give it up.” (Mae West)

I look forward to giving up that hobby someday. But I won’t miss the…goatees!

Friendly Dating Advice

Date: June 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I have a friend who watches out for me. (Which I appreciate. He is a good man, like my family, and has been there for me in important ways all the years I have known him, but especially in 2009.)

He stayed abreast of the events in my life and my activities and the first time I saw him in person after I began dating he had some advice for me. He knew what I’d been up to and said he thought it was great I was socializing, but told me not to rush into anything. He encouraged me to take my time, not to tie myself down, see who and what was out there, and make sure I get exactly what I want the second time.

Good advice. I followed it.

And to show him I was listening to his counsel and following it, I kept a written list of every man I dated–just to prove to him, if or when the time came, that I had been thorough in my search.

“So many men, so little time.” (Mae West)

Now let me introduce you to some of the men on the list. Get ready to meet the most memorable. (Get ready to laugh.)

The Day After My First Date

Date: June 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you think there are no new frontiers, watch a boy ring the front doorbell on his first date.” (Olin Miller)

Or try re-entering the dating scene after being married, and out of it, for 20 years!

The day after my first date (not the first date of my life, when I turned 16 in 1983 and saw the movie “Strange Brew” with a boy I’d liked since I was 15 years old)–the first date of my newly single, unexpected life in 2009, my pastor and his family invited my children and I over for Sunday dinner.

After we were seated around the table and the food had been blessed, he turned to me and asked what I had been up to. I decided then was as good a time as any to be honest about my foray into dating, so I said, “You won’t believe it, but I went on a date last night!”

I don’t think that is what my pastor expected to hear. He choked on his soup!

When he recovered, he asked me what I’d done for my date. I told him I’d gone to a singles dance at a local university. He and his wife exchanged a look across the table…and BOTH of them choked on their soup!

The conversation turned to other things, but after the children finished eating and left the table, they told me to be careful. As part of their church assignment, they said they had chaperoned those types of activities and had heard a lot of scary things went on at those type of gatherings. My pastor admonished me to never go alone as the parking lots were especially “dangerous” for single women.

Instead, he encouraged me to try a different type of single activity–Sunday night meetings where guest speakers presented spiritual messages to the singles group and everyone stayed afterward to eat refreshments and mingle. He said the type of people who attended those activities were a better caliber of people. He made me promise I would try one of those.

If there is one thing about me, it’s that I am committed. When I give my word, I follow through. That promise nagged at the back of my mind for a few weeks until I finally decided to try one of the Sunday night meetings, just so I wouldn’t have anything hanging over my head. One night, on impulse (there I go again!) I went to a Sunday night gathering. But instead, afterward, I was the one who wanted to choke!

I went alone. Although I was meeting some single men, the online thing wasn’t helpful for meeting single women. I researched the location on the internet and drove off to the building. I wasn’t expecting much. I imagined the gathering would take place in a small room of a church building, with maybe 13 people in attendance. I planned to sit through the talk and then leave as soon as it was over. I was shocked when I pulled up to the building and saw the parking lot was full, and that cars were parked on the streets too! I saw several people walking in. Clearly, it was going to be more than I anticipated.

I walked toward the entrance, alone, in the dark. I could see a man actually running toward the building. I started to wonder what I was doing. I felt 12 years old again, watching a boy RUN to not be late to an important event. I started to shake my head and laugh that this was my new life at the same moment the man ran past me. Then he stopped, turned around, walked back to me, shook my hand, introduced himself, and turned and ran into the building! The door slammed behind him just as I arrived at it. I opened the door for myself and went in.

The meeting was not being held in a small room of the church building. Instead, it was in the chapel and overflow area and it was packed with people. “Are there this many single people in my city?” I wondered. I was shocked. (I found out later that Utah County has approximately 40,000-50,000 singles. I guess I moved to the right place to meet single people. I just had to figure out how!) The next thing that shocked me was the age of the crowd. It seemed like everyone was older, gray-haired, and looked like a grandma or a grandpa. I thought of my mom, who had been widowed and single for 20 years–NOT of myself! I felt like the youngest person there, and I could have been (or it could have been that whole age denial thing going on there too.)

I sat on the back row and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. Every time I looked up I saw people quickly look away. Every time the outside door opened, I noticed a sea of heads turn in the direction of the door to check out who was entering the room! I wondered if people were there for the message or to people watch instead! I was betting on the latter. The expression from the 1980s, “meat market,” came to mind. Weird to see grandmas and grandpas doing that though!

The message was about marriage. The speaker said he had gotten married because he had worked to make that a possibility, and that marriage was possible for everyone if they just wanted it bad enough and worked hard enough to make it happen. He was a lot older and more experienced than I am, so he may know more than I do about that, but I had only one thought as I sat there: what about those people who were married, and did all they could to love and serve and support and trust their spouse, and ended up single through no fault or plan of their own? I wondered where I fit in. Or, if I even “fit” at all.

I didn’t feel like I did.

As soon as the meeting was over, I escaped out the door as quickly as I could and drove home. Alone. In the dark. I had kept my promise but I have to say, I didn’t leave feeling encouraged. The message had only raised questions that I’d never thought of. As much as I try to keep my chin up and remain optimistic, my thoughts as I drove home that night were this: I was destined to be single the rest of my life, and so was everyone else I’d seen at the meeting. Nothing made me feel more hopeless about remarriage than that Sunday meeting, my initial impression of the people in attendance, and the message…unless it was a singles dance!

But I’m not a quitter. I believe you can’t judge something by your first impression. I felt I owed my pastor one more shot at a singles gathering before I made up my mind about it.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m a glutton for punishment.