I doubt that I’m the only single girl in the world to program the names of men I’ve dated in my cell phone by the visual that comes to mind instead of storing them by their God-given name.
I’m not the only one…right?
How could I be? After all, doing so is sheer brilliance ~ like a roll call for romance rejects or the “ones to avoid list,” if you will.
For instance, “Spitball Man” carries that moniker because whenever he would start talking, his verbal pace would quicken and soon white balls of mucus would begin to form in the corners of his mouth and start moving like little hand puppets dancing the flamenco. (So gross!)
Then there’s “River Runs Through It.” He’s the sweat-panted man I met on a blind date last year while I was living in Aspen. This guy had to excuse himself from the dinner table halfway through the meal because the Mexican food, you guessed it, “ran right through him.” Surprisingly, he’s the same douche bag that ran out of gas (ironic since we’d been dining on Mexican food – Ha!).
Additionally, I have a lucky spot reserved for “Scott Don’t Answer” aptly named as a PSA to myself in the event that if this certain dweeb named Scott calls me, I can heed my own announcement and ignore his call completely to avoid unnecessary conversation with an unintelligent man.
After all, these advanced warnings from me and to me are the least I can do for me, right?…
The answer is yes, Yes, YES!!!
Which is why there’s also a spot in my cell phone log for “Ugg Boot Boy,” (he wore Ugg Boots holding the toe together with a strip of Duct tape), “Emotional Scoliosis,” (cried on the first date talking about his breakup years earlier) “Small Tackle Ted,” (a professional fisher of women) “Five Wide” (honestly cannot remember why? – one can only guess) and “Tic Tac” (due to his raging case of halitosis).
I send these fellas to voicemail (or voice“male” as it were).
But c’mon, I’ve been dating for nearly two decades now. That’s a lot of first dates, blind dates, bad dates, great dates, boyfriends, breakups, heartaches, hookups, mistakes and sweet, sweet mates.
So I think I’ve more than earned the right to remember men in the manner in which I choose.
But let it be known that I have dated some great guys. They were just not great guys for me.
But I know that my guy is still out there. And, I trust that someday very soon I will meet him and create a permanent phone record for “My Huzz.”
I cannot wait for that day! Until then, the beat goes on ~ as will the minutia (or is that “men”utia?- HA!) of storing my dates in my cell phone under code names. Well, I gotta run ~ the phone’s ringing and I’m not about to let “Hubba Hubba” go to voice mail!