D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
February 2010
Valentine's Day
Page: 2I had other notable dates. One was with a guy who met with me at a hotel bar. He spent the whole night telling me about his holistic remedy for a cold: chewing garlic bulbs (whole bulbs, mind you, not cloves) and sticking the garlic cloves up his nose and leaving them there overnight. At the end of the date, he said, "I'll call you," which I knew he wouldn't (nor did I WANT him to), and I thought no more of it. But my friend Diana was also doing newspaper dating, and scheduled a date with him, too. We always compared notes, and when I found out she had a date with Mr. Garlic, I laughed out loud. She decided to go out anyway, and at the end he said, "I'll call you." She said, "What, like you called my friend Gaye?" — at which point he gave her an Exorcist-worthy head swivel, complete with jaw drop. Obviously, that was their first and last encounter.
Another noteworthy date was the "Hyde Your Daughters" guy. Let me explain: He had played in a favorite local rock band of mine, "Hyde Your Daughters," so I wanted to at least meet him. Over a beer, he confessed with good humor and humbleness that he was an ex-heroin addict and had been divorced FOUR times. According to him, he made the best gnocchi in the world. He desperately tried to get me back to his place to make some, at which point the bartender came over and told me he was a person to be avoided at all costs. Hide your daughters indeed.
Another guy, Phil, was an acquaintance of a friend. He was a good prospect: My friends told me he looked like Kurt Russell, he was the Marine Corps poster boy at one time, and he worked in Animal Control. Well. If Kurt Russell gained 65 pounds, went on a six-day bender, cut his hair with a chain saw, and got his clothes from the dumpster behind the local brewery, you would be looking at Phil. It turns out that the part he enjoyed the most about his job was killing the animals he caught.
Another movie star look-alike was Pseudo-Michael Douglas. We were to meet at the local bookstore and have a cup of coffee. I even overlooked the fact that he had a couple of kids; he sounded intriguing. But he was 20 minutes late. I was sitting alone, dateless, like a dork, when I spotted him and got up to shake his hand. At that point, he pulled out a chair. I thought he was pulling it out for me to sit down, but he jammed his handsome body into the chair as I was sliding my bum onto the seat. Embarrassing! He was another one who loved to toot his own horn. I was getting mighty sick of these braggarts! Was it any wonder he was single? That man never so much as offered me a cup of water. At least I was getting good at telling them I wasn't interested.
Another guy I met for dinner was a college professor. He was a history professor, as I recall, and pretty intelligent. We were having a nice time, when he asked me what my hobbies were. I said that I played in a band, and his face went deadly white as he called for the check. He said I was "way too famous" for him. Wow, something I said?
The story does have a happy ending. After dating about 200 of the newspaper people, and even placing my OWN ad (I had a lot more luck that way, I can tell you), I eventually ran out of guys to date in my hometown, and had to plumb other countries! I met my Irish husband (no, not through the newspaper — my mom dragged him home) and we've been happily married for nine years. But I'll save that story for another time. Maybe next Valentine's Day.
Gaye Rock operates the Rock Center in Silver City, offering animal communication as well as Reiki treatment for people and animals, 956-5200, porto6281@aznex.net