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Just The Way I Quit Smoking Part I of Several


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A year after my divorce, I dated this big 'ol player sociopath guy who was a player and a sociopath.

Friends tried to warn me that he had a reputation, but like any good sociopath he pulled the long-stemmed wool over my eyes and fooled me.

He became my best friend. I told him almost everything about me. My belief in him and the way we began to feel about each other was solidified with this added "inconvenience" that we worked for the same company. And more - a close family member of mine worked there, too. And he worked directly with that family member of mine, in the same building. As her supervisor.

Surely. It couldn't be anything but love. He wouldn't risk his (decent) job for me if it wasn't. Surely.

We met on an unexpected early-release work day in mid-January. It was a Tuesday. Snow was in the forecast, but nothing was coming down, so some work friends met for adult drinks. He was there, tattoos peeking out of the sleeves of his rolled-up dress shirt. Not my type. Cute, but not for me. Then, he regaled us with some dating stories of the Crazy Cat Lady variety, smartly announcing his Singeldom not too long after I mentioned being Divorced.

He didn't stay long. He had to go to his mother's house and make her breakfast-for-dinner. (So sweet, at the time. Be Still Everyone's Hearts.)

I didn't wake up thinking about him the next morning: Wednesday, but we ended up emailing each other nonstop. I fired first, saying we should hang again sometime. He immediately added me on Facebook, explaining how witty he was, and how much I'd enjoy him. We emailed back and forth that day about college basketball (Indiana for me, Louisville for him) and our favorite movies - we both alleged to love the Royal Tenenbaums. Oh, and music. We both professed an affinity for 80's love songs. (He would stand outside and blast Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes for the right woman.)

Phone numbers were exchanged. We texted all night. He thought the pizza party for two I was having with my little gal Stella would be more fun with three. I told him he wasn't invited. He asked me if he could make dinner for me Friday.

He didn't meet Stella until Superbowl.

To Be Continued

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