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Bachelor #_: Cyber Stalker

Date: June 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Before I leave the topic of stalker men, I think I’ll share the scariest online experience I had as a newly single, testing out the whole online scene, divorced mother and sole parent and support of four children living in Utah.

A Cyber Stalker.

To this day, I don’t know who he was or how he found me.

All I know is that late one night, I was sitting at my computer, innocently checking my messages, when I heard a crackling sound. It took me a minute to process it, and I heard shuffling and other noises while I continued to check my email. Then I heard someone cough.

It was late at night, I was the only one awake at my house. I was sitting in front of my computer wearing my pajamas and glasses. The cough was very unexpected, and it came from right by me.

It made me jump.

I looked on my screen and I saw a window open, with a round-faced, dark-haired man wearing glasses and a mustache sitting in his home (or some location I’ve never seen before) peering down at me. Looking at me!

I may be 42 years old, but I move fast when I need to. I dove under the desk! My heart was pounding. Who was that man? And how had he connected to my computer? And how was he able to see me, sitting at home in my own house?

From underneath the desk I grabbed the keyboard and mouse and moved to close the window. And then I accessed the online site and blocked the man whose name appeared on the screen. To this day, I don’t know how the man did what he did. But it freaked me out!

I asked the I.T. guy, Bachelor #7, how that was possible and he didn’t have an answer for me. He just told me I was wise to block someone like that.

Farewell to my Cyber Stalker. He wasn’t even worthy of a number, in my opinion. I’m not sorry to see him go.

NOW…on to Bachelor #9.

Bachelor #8: The Stalker

Date: June 28, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Back in my old life, in Colorado as the stay-at-home mother of four children and the wife of a respected investment advisor, religious leader and upstanding member of the community, married for 20 years, etc…I got a kick out a song by Goldfinger. I think it was called “Stalker.”

My teenage son introduced it to me. He used to play it for me, we’d sing along with it in the car, laugh and dance to it in the kitchen, and were entertained by the lyrics every time we heard them.

“Uh-oh-oh she’s following me. Uh-oh-oh she’s out of her tree.Uh-oh-oh she’s off of her rocker. I wanna marry my stalker.”

I just never expected my spouse would one day reveal to me that he had been running a Ponzi scheme for most of our marriage, that he was heading to prison and that I would be left alone to raise our four children. I never expected my unexpected life. And I certainly NEVER expected to one day have my own stalker.

Bachelor #8.

He was probably the only true bachelor I’ve dated. He was 46 years old and had never been married. He also earned the well-deserved title of Stalker, according to my friends, family and children.

“A stalker will look for any kind of attention, positive or negative. A vast majority of them don’t see themselves as stalkers.”~ Jill McArthur

I met him online.

I should have known his type–I saw him looking at me, or my profile online, 30-50 times over the course of several weeks yet he never contacted me. Not one word. I couldn’t figure out why some random stranger would look at my picture or information so frequently. I finally figured it out, though. I think that’s what they call online stalking! Lol.

Eventually, he contacted me. Called me. Asked me to dinner. We met at a restaurant and I confess, when I finally met him in person, I asked him about his propensity to view photos and profiles so often for so long yet never contact the people he was viewing. He told me he was “just bored.”

I guess it’s true: “A vast majority of them don’t see themselves as stalkers.”

After we were seated on our first date, we started comparing notes and realized we’d lived at the same apartment complex while attending the same university. I’d even worked in the office of the apartment complex and had taken his rent! We remembered a lot of the same people. It was 20 years later, so his face wasn’t familiar to me, but I knew who his roommates had been. We had 20 years of catching up to do.

Instead, he looked right at me and said, “I know EXACTLY who you are!”

Chilling. Even, or especially from, a stalker.

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. I had distanced myself from every part of my old life. I had even moved to a new state where I didn’t know anyone. I lived quietly, under the radar, intentionally. I was trying to make a fresh start for my children and myself, far removed from the taint of a former family member accused of bilking clients out of millions of dollars through his Ponzi scheme. And in that moment I felt it was all for naught.

In my new city, in my new state, living my new life, I met a random “stranger” and my cover was blown.

Bachelor #8 had known my ex-husband and had been on business in Denver, CO, when news of Shawn Merriman’s Ponzi scheme and his criminal behavior broke and our assets were seized. Bachelor #8 had watched it all on the news. He put the details together while sitting in the restaurant with me.

He had a lot of questions. He grilled me about the Ponzi scheme, about how I could not have known what was going on, about my 20-year marriage, and appeared very skeptical of every answer I gave. It felt like Bachelor #8 was “good cop” AND “bad cop,” when all I was looking for was a social experience!

His side of the conversation consisted of comments about how while I had been married for 20 years, he had been doing the very same thing we were doing that night over and over again for the same amount of time. He told me he was sick of dating, tired of first dates, sick of getting to know new people, uninterested in the lives and stories of others, that everyone was the same and had the same story (I begged to differ on that one–I do not believe every single woman has an experience and a story like mine, but that’s just my opinion!) and he abhorred all of the “game playing” that was dating.

I couldn’t figure out why he had asked me out! And why he sat there, telling his date, me, that he hated what we were doing, didn’t want to get to know me, that he had heard everything I was going to say already before, and that he didn’t care about the details of my life.

It was the craziest first date I’ve ever been on, and all quite unexpected as a 42-year-old returning to dating after two decades of marriage.

The evening ended, I went home, walked up to my room and said to myself, “That was one of those ‘catch-up’ dates–what have you done the past 20 years? But I know I’ll never hear from him again!”

He called me the next morning at 9 a.m. and asked me out again for that night.

I couldn’t go. But my stalker didn’t give up. He called or texted me several times a week for the next few months. He asked me out when he came to town. If I couldn’t go out with him, he’d ask, “Why can’t you go? You got a date, don’t you?” And when I admitted the reason for my unavailability, he wanted to know all about the man I would be with and what we were doing–and then he’d text me throughout my date with the other man!

“Where are you?”

“What are you doing?”

“What restaurant are you at?”

“Do you like Mr. A.F.?” (He always named every one of my dates–Mr. A.F., Springville Guy, Tall Guy, Mr. P.G., etc…)

“What are you doing now?”

“You kiss him yet?”

Etc…

When he asked me a question, and if I answered it, he’d always argue with me about my answer.

One night we went to an Italian restaurant for dinner. On the way home, he suddenly decided he wasn’t taking me home. Instead, he was taking me to the grocery store. The grocery store? I told him I didn’t want to go. He argued with me about that. I told him I didn’t need to go. He argued with me about that. I told him I wasn’t going to go. He just kept driving. He told me I was a single mom and single moms always needed food and always needed to go to the grocery store and buy food. He told me I could shop in peace, and he would follow along and push the cart for me. I had no course but to settle in for the drive to the grocery store. My stalker was as stubborn as they come.

At the grocery store he insisted I shop for what I needed. I didn’t really need anything–except groceries for the dinner I was making for Bachelor #7 the next night, so I finally thought, “What the heck? He won’t take no for an answer, he made me come here, he won’t let me leave until I shop, so I guess I’ll buy food for tomorrow night’s date!” And that’s exactly what I did.

Bachelor #8 followed me through the store, pushed the cart, gave me recipes he insisted I cook (and texted and emailed me several times to see if I’d cooked what he told me to cook–I never had), and even threw a few ingredients I absolutely DID NOT WANT (and later threw away because Bachelor #8 would not let me leave the store without the items he insisted I try) into the cart. After checking out, he loaded the sacks into his truck and drove me home. On the way to my home he instructed me to call my teenage son and tell him to meet us outside to haul the groceries into the house for me.

THAT bothered me. I didn’t introduce my children to the men I dated. I didn’t even let them see each other, usually. I argued against it, but my stalker insisted, so I made the call. I knew better than to try to argue with him.

My son and a nephew came out, met Bachelor #8, hauled in the groceries and were very quiet about him to me, but they did not become his fans! In fact, goodwill toward Bachelor #8 spread throughout the household. I don’t know what was said between brother and sister, but my teenage daughter started patrolling my phone, checking my texts, grabbing my phone if it rang, and if she saw it was my stalker, she would demand I not answer the phone! Bachelor #8 could have used some serious help from Dale Carnegie on “How To Win Friends And Influence People” at the Merriman house. At least with its teenagers!

Off and on, Bachelor #8 would continue to visit my profile. His views crept into the triple digits. I could NOT figure out what he was doing online at my profile so often! If I got online to check messages, he’d start IM chats with me and grill me about men I was dating, or argue with me about something. But he always called when he came to town and offered to take me out. (I should say he was progressively more cheerful and positive as the weeks went on. He was nicer and friendlier with each successive date. He was even funny sometimes. It was just that crazy stalking tendancy that was the issue. That, and the fact that besides me not being interested romantically or long term in Bachelor #8, he and my children would NEVER have meshed. At all.)

Eventually, one night he proposed marriage. In a roundabout way he admitted he didn’t love me, but firmly believed two good people, with the same beliefs and values, could marry, make it work and have a happy life together. I didn’t just say no to the proposal. I told him NO WAY. And of course, true to form, he argued with me about my answer!

He argued for my acceptance of the proposal. I absolutely argued against it. In the end, I told him I believed his theory could work but that I didn’t want to test it myself. I wanted more for me. I felt I was too young to settle for anything less than my ideal. I was holding out for love.

I still believe in love. I still believe in fairy tales. And I’m still waiting for my happily ever after ending. (Boy. I say that so often it’s almost as if it’s my mantra! Lol.)

But maybe, just maybe, if I say it often enough or long enough, it will eventually come true for me.

Finally, the stalking of my stalker, Bachelor #8, ran it’s course. I got busy with other people, and Bachelor #8 went on a date with someone else. (And called to tell me about it afterward.) I didn’t hear much from my stalker after that…until I started this blog.

Bachelor #8 found it, contacted me, and argued with me about my blog. He argued against my blog with everything he had. When all of that failed, he brought up the safety of my children (he knows how to cut right to the heart of a mother, huh?) and every other thing he could think of to dissuade me in relation to blogging.

But in the end, as in many other times in my life, past and particularly present, I had to stand alone and do what I thought was best for me. (And my children.) And do you know what? I’m still blogging. It has been five whole months of writing and my children and I are not only safe, we’re better and happier than ever!

Who said stalkers know best?

I only know this: “But I do know people that have stalkers and it’s not nice.” (Daniel Craig)

On to Bachelor #9.

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…:)

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.)