After meeting a woman through an Internet dating service and talking with her on the phone almost every day for a month, we decided I’d visit her in the Orlando, Florida, area for a Friday-to-Sunday weekend in order to accomodate her schedule (she’s a widowed mother of four children).
During our weekend date, we both enjoyed our time with each other. She was finding that things didn’t go super-well with her youngest, a three-year-old boy, while she was away much of the weekend, but I told her that it might’ve been different if she didn’t go home each night (I wasn’t suggesting she spend the night with me at my hotel but was saying that it might be different if she were to visit me for a weekend). And, she was getting scared she might be trying to compare me to her late husband, as our personality-types are very much the same, although our personalities and appearance do differ plenty (well, he also was 6 feet tall and had put on weight in their later years of marriage, but he wasn’t keen on trying to work it off).
For me, I was troubled by her stance about what church should be, with her saying she believes what her Baptist pastor says, that it’s really for the saved and that the KJV is the best version to use because everyone is familiar with it. I told her that my church in Dallas tries to keep a balance between three groups: mature Christians, new Christians, and the unsaved. And, I told her that it’s more important for people to understand what the Bible says without having to fumble over 400-year-old English, especially for those who are new Christians and had never read the Bible before.
After cleaning up after my arrival on Friday night, we went to eat at a Spanish Cuban restaurant and then sat and talked at a lake that was close to the restaurant (I believe the area was called Celebration, if you’re familiar with the Orlando area). We went back to my hotel and talked some more when we realized that all the places with restrooms around had closed by the time we were needing those facilities.
On Saturday, she met me at my hotel, and we had breakfast before we went to the beach across from her condo not too far from Daytona Beach. Unfortunately, we got to talking so much that I forgot to put on any sunscreen, and I learned that even being overshadowed by a dark blue beach umbrella does not prevent one from becoming a human lobster. Since we had talked so much on the phone, we tried to spend the time at the beach in silence, but we couldn’t keep from talking, so we discussed our respective applicable chapters in the book The Five Love Languages, which I had bought for the occasion.
After we left the beach, she drove me around Daytona Beach, showing me a lot of the sights and the main strip. Once we finished that, we headed back to my hotel where we got caught in a nice, brisk rainstorm (my friends in Arizona would’ve thought it was a hurricane) as we were getting out of her minivan. Rather than her going back home and showering, we took turns using my room’s shower. I had apparently become very tired from my sunburn and had fallen asleep while reading out in the lobby waiting for her to finish that she scared me awake when she came up behind me after she finished with her shower.
Since she doesn’t feel herself very computer literate, I had to show her the very-easy-to-use systems at the Apple store in Orlando, and I also showed her some of the software they had that might be good for her kids (most packages were available for both Macintosh and Windows). Unfortunately, she was so hungry that we cut our shopping short and didn’t get to go look at the shoe or jewelry stores she was interested in, and since all the restaurants at the mall had two-hour waits, we decided to go out to Sonic.
Now, for my date, going to Sonic was an adventure in itself, as she had never been there, nor had she ever experienced a foot-long chili-cheese dog or a cherry limeade with carbonation, so I introduced her to those, and she liked them. Following that, we went to see the movie The Dukes of Hazzard. When she called her daughter before she was to go to bed and told her what movie we were about to go see, her daughter apparently thought it wasn’t “girly” enough (they go see movies like The Princess Diaries 2, which I had already seen on the flight over from Dallas/Ft. Worth to Orlando on Friday), but my date told her daughter that it was a nostalgic movie (we didn’t have too many other choices at the theatre, as The Wedding Crashers probably wouldn’t have been the best one to go see). Since it was late when the movie got out, she dropped me off at my hotel so we’d both get SOME sleep before church in the morning.
As I said earlier, her three-year-old son had been a bit difficult over the weekend and did not want to ride with the baby sitter to church with his three siblings, so he was in his car chair when my date picked me up Sunday morning. But, he did seem lively about telling me about his transformer toy, so we talked about that on the drive to church.
When we made it to Sunday School, my date’s friends didn’t come and attack us with lots of questions and probings as she feared (her class is primarily couples around our age, and most of them knew her and her late husband), so she felt better about that. Since my date sings in the choir, I went to church with the husband of one of her friends, who was taking over for her in nursery duty that day. Since I was quite noticeable due to my sunburn from Saturday’s beach trip, I noticed that one of her friends in choir was able to place me in the audience a lot easier, so she had to answer her about me briefly in that nonchalant way that choir people do when they think no one else is looking.
After church, I met up with my date a little earlier than we had planned, so I got to meet her two other boys, but since her daughter is wanting a daddy big-time, I headed off to wait in her van so no too-early bonding would occur. She had told me her daughter latches onto any man that comes around, and with us communicating almost every day for a bit more than the past month, I’m really her first “relationship” since her husband died over two years ago.
Once the baby sitter had gotten all the kids rounded up, my date and I went back to my hotel to change. Once we had taken turns changing (I didn’t fall asleep waiting on her this time), I checked out, and we went to have lunch at P.F. Chang’s, where my date was sure the horses outside were bigger than they were in Scottsdale when she visited with her late husband a few years ago. I had to let her down easily, though, with the realization that they were the same size. After that, we went to Border’s for some book shopping and talking about some of our interests, and we followed that up with some shoe shopping at DSW (she didn’t even know the store existed, although she’s BIG into shoes, so I knew she would want to know about it) so she’d know what to wear for swing dancing (I was telling her she needed to visit me in Dallas so I could take her dancing to one of my favorite places to go country and swing dancing).
Once our shopping desires were satisfied (actually, my painfully sunburned shins and ankles being enclosed in shoes were satisfied with the number of foot movements already required of them and were swelling), we took a long drive to the airport, talking along the way about some topics that were a little more deeper and reflective of the weekend than our earlier conversations. Since we couldn’t find a Starbucks on the way, we spent the rest of the time until I had to leave for my gate at 6:00 pm Sunday evening at the airport’s Starbucks.
So, that’s how my Disney World Romance Weekend went; on the following Wednesday, we decided, based on our respective reservations that we were not right for each other and decided to remain friends.
The following week, my date suggested I look up her church’s director of women and singles, who is herself single; since my date had a problem believing it possible for a never-married man to commit to a widowed mother of four (that was another one of her weird beliefs), she thought I would be better off with her recommendation.
I had assumed my original date had told her director about me, so I was very embarrassed when I had to explain to the director of women and singles how I learned about her. My exact words to my new contact were, “Have you ever been invited on a blind date and the other person wasn’t told about it? Well, I guess this is the Internet version of that!”
When my original date learned that I told the director of women and singles that I had met her through an Internet dating web site, she said I had betrayed her trust and that she never wanted to talk to me again. Needless to say, I was very flabbergasted by her words, but when I reflected on it further, I realized that I had noticed her having a similar attitude before and am now glad that we decided not to continue the relationship.
Well, with the fallout of “Hurricane Minnie” (my little nickname for the immature actions and beliefs of my original date), I’m not sure how things will go with the director or women and singles from her church, but I guess all I’ve really lost is the cost of a flight, hotel, meals, and other assorted costs, rather than the rest of my life, so I guess you could say it was a cheap date.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Children at Easter Time
There’s a woman who sometimes comes in to the Starbucks that I frequent that I have talked with a few times, Carolyn, and I have learned she goes to the older singles class at the church I used to go to (she’s never said her age, but I’m guessing she’s at least in her late 40’s). I also have learned she doesn’t like it when children act like children, much less when they get really loud and even slightly out of control. She’s never been married, so I’m sad for her that she has such a negative view of children.
One day a few weeks ago, she was sitting at the set of couchy chairs everyone jockeys for, and I was there and so was a 19-year-old girl, Shelly, and her boyfriend when a couple with their adorable twin girls came in. I have a hard time guessing childrens’ ages, but I’d say they were around two or three. They were dressed in such cute, adult-looking dresses and sweaters that it was hard not to fall in love with them. While their parents were enjoying their time together, the girls were walking around the store, enjoying their time of exploration with a fun, child-like wonder in their eyes.
Suddenly, Shelly started laughing. After seeing her past reactions to other little kids during prior visits to Starbucks, I knew she was feeling a bit of that maternal instinct (can you believe it from a 19-year-old?), and I saw Carolyn with a look of incredulity on her face that practically screamed, “What’s wrong with those parents to let their children enjoy themselves in public?” I could hardly hold in my anger at her expression, so to help her understand how abnormal her view was, I asked Shelly if she thought the twins were adorable. I later thought about adding on that since they have two, they’d probably be willing to let her take one home, but the thought came after she left, but from my conversations with her, she probably would have said, “Oh, may I, please?”
On the Saturday before Easter, Carolyn again joined me at the couchy chairs, and I overheard from her mobile phone conversation why she wasn’t going to church on Easter. I was appalled that she wasn’t going because so many people would be there with their children! I would never do anything of the sort, but I felt like slapping some sense into her for being so anti-social! Instead, I did well to avoid all small talk with her the rest of the day for fear I’d say something I would regret. Thankfully, the only words we exchanged occurred when I got up to leave around dinner time; she asked me if I’d had enough of the day, to which I responded that I had plans for the rest of the night.
In Carolyn’s defence, I have learned that people who have such a negative view of children typically were denied a normal childhood themselves and were most likely punished severly for acting anything like a child while in public. I’m not saying that children should be given free reign in any and all areas of life, but they should be given adequate boundaries and appropriate freedoms for their age. To break a child’s spirit in such a manner is one of the cruelest and longest-lasting forms of abuse. While I can feel sad that Carolyn has never been married, I also feel relieved that no one has yet been hurt by her. I believe everyone deserves a chance to find love, but I hope that Carolyn’s heart grows before she gets involved with anyone.
One day a few weeks ago, she was sitting at the set of couchy chairs everyone jockeys for, and I was there and so was a 19-year-old girl, Shelly, and her boyfriend when a couple with their adorable twin girls came in. I have a hard time guessing childrens’ ages, but I’d say they were around two or three. They were dressed in such cute, adult-looking dresses and sweaters that it was hard not to fall in love with them. While their parents were enjoying their time together, the girls were walking around the store, enjoying their time of exploration with a fun, child-like wonder in their eyes.
Suddenly, Shelly started laughing. After seeing her past reactions to other little kids during prior visits to Starbucks, I knew she was feeling a bit of that maternal instinct (can you believe it from a 19-year-old?), and I saw Carolyn with a look of incredulity on her face that practically screamed, “What’s wrong with those parents to let their children enjoy themselves in public?” I could hardly hold in my anger at her expression, so to help her understand how abnormal her view was, I asked Shelly if she thought the twins were adorable. I later thought about adding on that since they have two, they’d probably be willing to let her take one home, but the thought came after she left, but from my conversations with her, she probably would have said, “Oh, may I, please?”
On the Saturday before Easter, Carolyn again joined me at the couchy chairs, and I overheard from her mobile phone conversation why she wasn’t going to church on Easter. I was appalled that she wasn’t going because so many people would be there with their children! I would never do anything of the sort, but I felt like slapping some sense into her for being so anti-social! Instead, I did well to avoid all small talk with her the rest of the day for fear I’d say something I would regret. Thankfully, the only words we exchanged occurred when I got up to leave around dinner time; she asked me if I’d had enough of the day, to which I responded that I had plans for the rest of the night.
In Carolyn’s defence, I have learned that people who have such a negative view of children typically were denied a normal childhood themselves and were most likely punished severly for acting anything like a child while in public. I’m not saying that children should be given free reign in any and all areas of life, but they should be given adequate boundaries and appropriate freedoms for their age. To break a child’s spirit in such a manner is one of the cruelest and longest-lasting forms of abuse. While I can feel sad that Carolyn has never been married, I also feel relieved that no one has yet been hurt by her. I believe everyone deserves a chance to find love, but I hope that Carolyn’s heart grows before she gets involved with anyone.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
A Turning Point? (or The Dance of Love)
I wish I could say that the aforementioned unfortunate events with these women have not affected me negatively, but I did find my actions yesterday weren’t as admirable.
With it being Good Friday, I had the day off from work, although our office called it Spring Holiday. With the extra day off, I spent much of the day at Starbucks, catching up on my reading. One of the female workers that I chat with occasionally asked me how I was doing when she came around clearing the tables, and I could tell it was more than just the casual “Hello, how’s it going,” but since I had just been reflecting on how I had been so severely attacked by those who believe they are Christians, I really didn’t want to say how I was really doing, so I just said hello to her (a habit I sometimes follow when I know someone’s just asking as a friendly form of “hello”) and went back to my reading. I could tell I had hurt her feelings, though, but I really didn’t want to get into it.
Later that night, I decided to eat out at one of my favorite restaurants, Outback Steakhouse. Again, I was thinking about how those who claimed to be loving had so attacked me without cause, and with the restaurant not being very busy, I didn’t have to wait long for a table, but I did get to enjoy a bit of The Incredibles on one of the TVs by the hostess stand. Since the restaurant wasn’t very busy, one of the hostesses that always seems to be working when I come in asked me if I worked close by; while I do, I actually live much closer, so I said I just live down the street and went back to watching the movie, to which she responded that she does, too, and that she really likes the area. While I’m normally a very chatty fellow, I really didn’t feel like talking much that night, so I nodded an agreement to her and went back to watching the movie.
When my table was ready, I must’ve gotten so engrossed in the movie that I didn’t hear the hostess at first trying to get my attention. I felt badly about my rude behavior and wanted to apologize in some manner, so I remarked to the other hostess that walked me to my table that I was surprised that The Incredibles was already on DVD and had gotten very engrossed in watching it. She remarked they had already seen it loop through a couple of times that night. While I know it wasn’t a complete apology, I feel it fit the bill based on the level of the relationship; besides, the movie did distract me enough to get my mind off my thoughts, so it was true in a sense.
Needless to say, it troubles me that I became so rude in these two instances, and there have been other times I’ve caught myself, but since these happened on the day that our Lord was betrayed by someone He trusted, it hit me a lot harder; while the betrayal I received was nowhere near as extreme as His, even a partial parallel was difficult for me to miss.
While Good Friday is a time to reflect on the death of our Lord for our sins, Easter is a time to reflect on His resurrection from the dead, showing He conquered sin and death, that which used to hold everyone captive. So, on a positive note, I look forward to a resurrection and healing of my emotions, and with that in mind, I’d like to share a poem I wrote a couple of years ago:
The Dance of Love
When the music starts,
I lead her to the floor.
With rhythms abounding,
We dance and we soar.
The words of the song
Are written in our dance.
As my hand moves around her,
I change her stance
To follow into a drop
Or a dip,
With my perfect partner,
I won't trip.
As I hold her in my arms
And turn her to friends' applause,
We smile at each other
And know love has no flaws.
Happy Easter!
With it being Good Friday, I had the day off from work, although our office called it Spring Holiday. With the extra day off, I spent much of the day at Starbucks, catching up on my reading. One of the female workers that I chat with occasionally asked me how I was doing when she came around clearing the tables, and I could tell it was more than just the casual “Hello, how’s it going,” but since I had just been reflecting on how I had been so severely attacked by those who believe they are Christians, I really didn’t want to say how I was really doing, so I just said hello to her (a habit I sometimes follow when I know someone’s just asking as a friendly form of “hello”) and went back to my reading. I could tell I had hurt her feelings, though, but I really didn’t want to get into it.
Later that night, I decided to eat out at one of my favorite restaurants, Outback Steakhouse. Again, I was thinking about how those who claimed to be loving had so attacked me without cause, and with the restaurant not being very busy, I didn’t have to wait long for a table, but I did get to enjoy a bit of The Incredibles on one of the TVs by the hostess stand. Since the restaurant wasn’t very busy, one of the hostesses that always seems to be working when I come in asked me if I worked close by; while I do, I actually live much closer, so I said I just live down the street and went back to watching the movie, to which she responded that she does, too, and that she really likes the area. While I’m normally a very chatty fellow, I really didn’t feel like talking much that night, so I nodded an agreement to her and went back to watching the movie.
When my table was ready, I must’ve gotten so engrossed in the movie that I didn’t hear the hostess at first trying to get my attention. I felt badly about my rude behavior and wanted to apologize in some manner, so I remarked to the other hostess that walked me to my table that I was surprised that The Incredibles was already on DVD and had gotten very engrossed in watching it. She remarked they had already seen it loop through a couple of times that night. While I know it wasn’t a complete apology, I feel it fit the bill based on the level of the relationship; besides, the movie did distract me enough to get my mind off my thoughts, so it was true in a sense.
Needless to say, it troubles me that I became so rude in these two instances, and there have been other times I’ve caught myself, but since these happened on the day that our Lord was betrayed by someone He trusted, it hit me a lot harder; while the betrayal I received was nowhere near as extreme as His, even a partial parallel was difficult for me to miss.
While Good Friday is a time to reflect on the death of our Lord for our sins, Easter is a time to reflect on His resurrection from the dead, showing He conquered sin and death, that which used to hold everyone captive. So, on a positive note, I look forward to a resurrection and healing of my emotions, and with that in mind, I’d like to share a poem I wrote a couple of years ago:
The Dance of Love
When the music starts,
I lead her to the floor.
With rhythms abounding,
We dance and we soar.
The words of the song
Are written in our dance.
As my hand moves around her,
I change her stance
To follow into a drop
Or a dip,
With my perfect partner,
I won't trip.
As I hold her in my arms
And turn her to friends' applause,
We smile at each other
And know love has no flaws.
Happy Easter!
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Why men don’t ask women out - The Contribution of Enkinda Teufel
The final indignity I experienced from the women in this singles group that called themselves Christ followers was the day after I organized a night of dinner and dancing and learned how Enkinda Teufel was the ringleader of these women and had their minds and hearts under her complete control.
A handful of men and women had expressed an interest in going dancing, so I made reservations at a place the singles group had been before for a birthday party (the place is a popular restaurant with a dance floor). Since the activity wasn’t an official event on the singles group calendar, I had to send out the invitation to those whose e-mail addresses I knew rather than relying on the official group’s e-mail list. I sent the invitation to over 30 people, including some who were not part of the singles group but were friends I had made at the church.
On the night of the event, we had about seven people show up, a good number for a rainy night, although I had gotten an RSVP estimate for 15. It’s always disappointing when you have to tell the hostess of a restaurant that you don’t think the rest of your party will be showing up, but at least other patrons will get seated a little earlier. Even with such a small number, everyone had a great time, which was all I could really hope for, and those who attended thanked me for organizing the event.
The next day at the end of the singles Sunday School class, a couple of the male leaders pulled me aside and told me that I should not have invited the people I did for the dancing event and that Enkinda Teufel, one of the recipients of the e-mail, had actually complained to them about my sending out the e-mail. Needless to say, I was quite flabbergasted that someone would actually be offended she was invited (there were some on my e-mail list that I wasn’t keen on seeing, but I felt it would’ve been unkind to exclude them). I told the leaders that I would never invite another immature person to an activity I’d organize.
Later that day, I felt highly incensed that I had been judged by someone who was akin to those in the 1st century that believed Christians were guilty of a mortal sin for eating meat sold in the marketplace that had been offered to idols, so I wrote an e-mail to the leaders of the group who had called me on the carpet, letting them know neither they nor Enkinda had any authority over what I chose to do with my friends, and that they should deal with the immature who judged me as harshly as they had dealt with me. I also let them know that I would never be inviting anyone else to this church or singles group unless they handled the situation in a Godly manner.
Later that week, I found Enkinda’s influence upon another, Valerie Emshiska, when she not only attacked me in the way I wrote about in a previous posting, but also attacked three other friends of mine with such ferocity and ungodly intent.
Once I realized the influence that Enkinda Teufel had upon this church and singles group, I made a decision to remove myself from the seat of Satan and look elsewhere for Christians to fellowship with. To this day, I have never gone back, and I have never heard anything from the leaders of the group in response to my rebuttal to the accusations made against me.
A handful of men and women had expressed an interest in going dancing, so I made reservations at a place the singles group had been before for a birthday party (the place is a popular restaurant with a dance floor). Since the activity wasn’t an official event on the singles group calendar, I had to send out the invitation to those whose e-mail addresses I knew rather than relying on the official group’s e-mail list. I sent the invitation to over 30 people, including some who were not part of the singles group but were friends I had made at the church.
On the night of the event, we had about seven people show up, a good number for a rainy night, although I had gotten an RSVP estimate for 15. It’s always disappointing when you have to tell the hostess of a restaurant that you don’t think the rest of your party will be showing up, but at least other patrons will get seated a little earlier. Even with such a small number, everyone had a great time, which was all I could really hope for, and those who attended thanked me for organizing the event.
The next day at the end of the singles Sunday School class, a couple of the male leaders pulled me aside and told me that I should not have invited the people I did for the dancing event and that Enkinda Teufel, one of the recipients of the e-mail, had actually complained to them about my sending out the e-mail. Needless to say, I was quite flabbergasted that someone would actually be offended she was invited (there were some on my e-mail list that I wasn’t keen on seeing, but I felt it would’ve been unkind to exclude them). I told the leaders that I would never invite another immature person to an activity I’d organize.
Later that day, I felt highly incensed that I had been judged by someone who was akin to those in the 1st century that believed Christians were guilty of a mortal sin for eating meat sold in the marketplace that had been offered to idols, so I wrote an e-mail to the leaders of the group who had called me on the carpet, letting them know neither they nor Enkinda had any authority over what I chose to do with my friends, and that they should deal with the immature who judged me as harshly as they had dealt with me. I also let them know that I would never be inviting anyone else to this church or singles group unless they handled the situation in a Godly manner.
Later that week, I found Enkinda’s influence upon another, Valerie Emshiska, when she not only attacked me in the way I wrote about in a previous posting, but also attacked three other friends of mine with such ferocity and ungodly intent.
Once I realized the influence that Enkinda Teufel had upon this church and singles group, I made a decision to remove myself from the seat of Satan and look elsewhere for Christians to fellowship with. To this day, I have never gone back, and I have never heard anything from the leaders of the group in response to my rebuttal to the accusations made against me.
Why men don’t ask women out - The Contribution of Dani Gehemevort
When it comes to the women I‘ve been talking about that are members of this singles group, you can tell that each one has an incredibly convoluted view of reality. However, there is one woman I met that was guilty only of asking some very weird questions and wanted to discuss topics that I felt were very off the wall. That woman was Dani Gehemevort (not her real name).
Although I’d like to give some of the women in this group the benefit of the doubt, it’s very possible that even Dani also had quite an imagination, but, to her credit, all she ever did was ask questions that, at worst, seemed designed to evoke controversy or provoke a reaction; of course, it’s possible she never learned how to be good at small talk.
The last time I talked with Dani was the one time that sticks out to me the most. After a large group of us had finished dinner at a local restaurant, I went to the movies with Dani and another girl. No one else was interested in going, probably because it was getting late, although we did ask a number of people, but I was definitely in the mood to see a movie, and I figured there’d be no misinterpreting the event as a date (I wasn’t romantically interested in either woman, and by this time, I was beginning to be aware of how unsafe the women in this group were).
The movie we went to see was In Good Company, the one with Dennis Quaid being demoted and getting a boss young enough to be his son (his new boss eventually starts dating Quaid’s daughter in the movie, which was a bit weird, but I digress). It was a very good movie, and I guess the other women enjoyed it, too. When we left the theater, I wanted to be the gentleman, so I asked where the women had parked. The other woman had parked in a very well-lit area but Dani had parked in a much darker section of the parking lot, so I walked Dani to her car and kept an eye out for the other woman until she got in her car.
On the walk to Dani’s car, she brought up one of the weirdest topics one could ever imagine. “You know, I’ve been taking Tae Kwan Do lately,” said Dani, “and I bet I could lay you out flat with what I’ve learned.”
Okay, I thought, that’s weird. But not knowing what else to say and since I viewed Dani as a bit of a tomboy, I responded the way I would’ve if a male friend had said the same thing. “Oh, I bet you couldn’t hurt me that much. I’m quite a bit more resilient than I look.” Actually, I’m 6 feet tall and do some light weightlifting and look like a stockier version of Vin Diesel, so I know I look quite resilient, but I figured she’d take it as a joke.
“Well, if I had a Taser, I bet I could stun you and you’d be flopping around on the ground,” countered Dani.
Okay, where was this coming from? Why would someone bring up such topics so out of the blue? Instead of letting it lie, though, I responded once again with male bravado, “Oh, I bet I could take quite a bit of punishment.”
By that time, we reached her car, so I bid her good night, watched her get in her car, and walked back to my car. On the drive home, I started reflecting on Dani’s topic of conversation and began wondering if she was trying to be defensive, based on some imaginary threat. I later asked some other friends, and they also said they had no idea why Dani would bring up such a weird topic; since these friends knew me fairly well, they couldn’t imagine someone viewing me as a threat.
As I said earlier, Dani has brought up some other far-fetched topics in the past, but I felt that if she was going to imply she felt unsafe with me when I was doing her a favor, then she really didn’t deserve my company, so I’ve classified her with the other women who don’t have a solid grip on reality.
Since that night, I haven’t talked with Dani and don’t plan on it.
Although I’d like to give some of the women in this group the benefit of the doubt, it’s very possible that even Dani also had quite an imagination, but, to her credit, all she ever did was ask questions that, at worst, seemed designed to evoke controversy or provoke a reaction; of course, it’s possible she never learned how to be good at small talk.
The last time I talked with Dani was the one time that sticks out to me the most. After a large group of us had finished dinner at a local restaurant, I went to the movies with Dani and another girl. No one else was interested in going, probably because it was getting late, although we did ask a number of people, but I was definitely in the mood to see a movie, and I figured there’d be no misinterpreting the event as a date (I wasn’t romantically interested in either woman, and by this time, I was beginning to be aware of how unsafe the women in this group were).
The movie we went to see was In Good Company, the one with Dennis Quaid being demoted and getting a boss young enough to be his son (his new boss eventually starts dating Quaid’s daughter in the movie, which was a bit weird, but I digress). It was a very good movie, and I guess the other women enjoyed it, too. When we left the theater, I wanted to be the gentleman, so I asked where the women had parked. The other woman had parked in a very well-lit area but Dani had parked in a much darker section of the parking lot, so I walked Dani to her car and kept an eye out for the other woman until she got in her car.
On the walk to Dani’s car, she brought up one of the weirdest topics one could ever imagine. “You know, I’ve been taking Tae Kwan Do lately,” said Dani, “and I bet I could lay you out flat with what I’ve learned.”
Okay, I thought, that’s weird. But not knowing what else to say and since I viewed Dani as a bit of a tomboy, I responded the way I would’ve if a male friend had said the same thing. “Oh, I bet you couldn’t hurt me that much. I’m quite a bit more resilient than I look.” Actually, I’m 6 feet tall and do some light weightlifting and look like a stockier version of Vin Diesel, so I know I look quite resilient, but I figured she’d take it as a joke.
“Well, if I had a Taser, I bet I could stun you and you’d be flopping around on the ground,” countered Dani.
Okay, where was this coming from? Why would someone bring up such topics so out of the blue? Instead of letting it lie, though, I responded once again with male bravado, “Oh, I bet I could take quite a bit of punishment.”
By that time, we reached her car, so I bid her good night, watched her get in her car, and walked back to my car. On the drive home, I started reflecting on Dani’s topic of conversation and began wondering if she was trying to be defensive, based on some imaginary threat. I later asked some other friends, and they also said they had no idea why Dani would bring up such a weird topic; since these friends knew me fairly well, they couldn’t imagine someone viewing me as a threat.
As I said earlier, Dani has brought up some other far-fetched topics in the past, but I felt that if she was going to imply she felt unsafe with me when I was doing her a favor, then she really didn’t deserve my company, so I’ve classified her with the other women who don’t have a solid grip on reality.
Since that night, I haven’t talked with Dani and don’t plan on it.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Why men don’t ask women out - The Contribution of Helen Francisco
By now, most of you are wondering what planet I must have been living on where such women exist to do nothing but try to destroy men for their own pleasure. Well, let me tell you about Helen Francisco (not her real name).
On one of the big picnic party holidays, I went to the home of a guy who was hosting what was promised to be a great day of fun, food, and fellowship. I got there fairly early (I’m not big on being “fashionably late”), which was good, as I had signed up to bring the chips and no one else had brought any. Now, if you’ve ever been to a big get-together, you know that hardly everyone has the same tastes, which is why I decided on bringing three different flavors of Dorito’s. Shortly after that, a small, heavy-set guy arrived and started telling me how no one will be eating the plain Dorito’s and how we should put away the cool ranch flavor bag and only open the nacho cheese flavor bag.
Now, I must admit that some guys do deserve a bit of a wake up call, and at first I thought I should tell him that I didn’t consider myself a nobody, as the plain Dorito’s is one of my favorites, but I ignored him, and when he went off to another room in the house, our host brought the bags back out and put them on the table, putting a bowl in front of each one. And, since I was a bit hungry, I decided I’d fill a plate with some of my favorite Dorito’s while a girl next to me had some cool ranch ones.
After all my experiences with the women in this singles group and seeing how this non-host guy operated, I guess I can understand how these women probably would’ve been considered normal to most other people. However, crazy is as crazy does, to paraphrase one of history’s greatest philosophers.
As the day progressed, I met more people and talked with some of those people I already knew. I was enjoying myself immensely and actually talking with a couple of women that had come together and were new to the group. As we were talking about a number of topics, I was rudely interrupted by Helen Francisco, who was also seated at the table talking with the aforementioned chip-controller guy. With a volume greater than a conversational level and with a significant amount of anger in her voice, Helen proceeded to tell me not to say another word, and that she was going to tell the leader of the group (who wasn’t at the party) that I didn’t deserve to be here, and that she was going to recommend I be kicked out of the group.
Needless to say, everyone at the table, which included the two new women, Helen, the chip-controller guy, and another two women that had occasionally been involved in our conversation, were dumbfounded with this incredible revelation. Since I had no answer to these incredible accusations, I had no idea about how to respond. Finally, after a few seconds of us all looking around at each other, I started talking again with the women I had been talking with when Helen broke in, kicking off a totally unrelated topic. The women engaged me once again, and as we talked for a while, I felt Helen’s eyes remain on me until she finally got up and left.
When Helen moved outside and out of earshot, I then asked the two women I had been talking with and the other two women if they had any idea what it was I had said or done to require such a verbal beating. The women I was talking with couldn’t identify anything, but I did get feedback from one of the other women at the table. She told me I did nothing wrong but that Helen had actually done something just like this to the leader of the group some time back. About that time, another woman came up and asked what we were talking about, so I told her, and she also confirmed that Helen had done something much like this before.
Later in the evening, a number of us were sitting around the TV watching The Best of Mr. Bean (I think that’s what it’s called) when Helen walked in the door with her mobile phone ringing. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she certainly said loudly enough for everyone to hear as she crossed in front of the TV that it was the leader of the group on the phone. I’m sure it was her way of trying to dig deeper into the wound she tried to inflict upon me earlier, but I just totally ignored her then and the rest of the night.
The following Sunday, I sought out the leader of the group to talk to him about the incident. He said he’d check into the event and let me know if he learned anything. Since he didn’t say anything about Helen telling him about this before, I was pretty sure she was up to some kind of game.
The leader never mentioned the incident to me again, but about a month later, Helen did come over to me while I was talking with a friend after Sunday School and apologized to me for her behavior at the party. In the following weeks, Helen’s highly talkative behavior transformed into a more quiet demeanor, and there were a number of things mentioned about how God was now using her in extraordinary ways.
So, if God can change Helen, I believe he can also change Yancy and Valerie.
On one of the big picnic party holidays, I went to the home of a guy who was hosting what was promised to be a great day of fun, food, and fellowship. I got there fairly early (I’m not big on being “fashionably late”), which was good, as I had signed up to bring the chips and no one else had brought any. Now, if you’ve ever been to a big get-together, you know that hardly everyone has the same tastes, which is why I decided on bringing three different flavors of Dorito’s. Shortly after that, a small, heavy-set guy arrived and started telling me how no one will be eating the plain Dorito’s and how we should put away the cool ranch flavor bag and only open the nacho cheese flavor bag.
Now, I must admit that some guys do deserve a bit of a wake up call, and at first I thought I should tell him that I didn’t consider myself a nobody, as the plain Dorito’s is one of my favorites, but I ignored him, and when he went off to another room in the house, our host brought the bags back out and put them on the table, putting a bowl in front of each one. And, since I was a bit hungry, I decided I’d fill a plate with some of my favorite Dorito’s while a girl next to me had some cool ranch ones.
After all my experiences with the women in this singles group and seeing how this non-host guy operated, I guess I can understand how these women probably would’ve been considered normal to most other people. However, crazy is as crazy does, to paraphrase one of history’s greatest philosophers.
As the day progressed, I met more people and talked with some of those people I already knew. I was enjoying myself immensely and actually talking with a couple of women that had come together and were new to the group. As we were talking about a number of topics, I was rudely interrupted by Helen Francisco, who was also seated at the table talking with the aforementioned chip-controller guy. With a volume greater than a conversational level and with a significant amount of anger in her voice, Helen proceeded to tell me not to say another word, and that she was going to tell the leader of the group (who wasn’t at the party) that I didn’t deserve to be here, and that she was going to recommend I be kicked out of the group.
Needless to say, everyone at the table, which included the two new women, Helen, the chip-controller guy, and another two women that had occasionally been involved in our conversation, were dumbfounded with this incredible revelation. Since I had no answer to these incredible accusations, I had no idea about how to respond. Finally, after a few seconds of us all looking around at each other, I started talking again with the women I had been talking with when Helen broke in, kicking off a totally unrelated topic. The women engaged me once again, and as we talked for a while, I felt Helen’s eyes remain on me until she finally got up and left.
When Helen moved outside and out of earshot, I then asked the two women I had been talking with and the other two women if they had any idea what it was I had said or done to require such a verbal beating. The women I was talking with couldn’t identify anything, but I did get feedback from one of the other women at the table. She told me I did nothing wrong but that Helen had actually done something just like this to the leader of the group some time back. About that time, another woman came up and asked what we were talking about, so I told her, and she also confirmed that Helen had done something much like this before.
Later in the evening, a number of us were sitting around the TV watching The Best of Mr. Bean (I think that’s what it’s called) when Helen walked in the door with her mobile phone ringing. Perhaps it was my imagination, but she certainly said loudly enough for everyone to hear as she crossed in front of the TV that it was the leader of the group on the phone. I’m sure it was her way of trying to dig deeper into the wound she tried to inflict upon me earlier, but I just totally ignored her then and the rest of the night.
The following Sunday, I sought out the leader of the group to talk to him about the incident. He said he’d check into the event and let me know if he learned anything. Since he didn’t say anything about Helen telling him about this before, I was pretty sure she was up to some kind of game.
The leader never mentioned the incident to me again, but about a month later, Helen did come over to me while I was talking with a friend after Sunday School and apologized to me for her behavior at the party. In the following weeks, Helen’s highly talkative behavior transformed into a more quiet demeanor, and there were a number of things mentioned about how God was now using her in extraordinary ways.
So, if God can change Helen, I believe he can also change Yancy and Valerie.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Why men don’t ask women out - The Contribution of Valerie Emshiska
If you thought Yancy was unbelievable, perhaps you’d like to learn about my encounters with Valerie Emshiska (not her real name).
One night Valerie was having a party at her home, and when I needed to use the facilities, the only one I could find was the restroom that was adjacent to Valerie’s bedroom. I thought it strange that a woman would leave so many personal and feminine things out in her restroom when having a party, so I told her about it, also letting her know that it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable but that it might make other men feel that way when they used her restroom.
So she’d know I wasn’t personally uncomfortable, I told her how my sister used to have me go to the store and buy her cigarettes for her when I was 8 years old, and after they started not believing me anymore that I was getting them for my sister, she then had me pick up her feminine products at the same time.
I later learned that men at Valerie’s party were to use her son’s bathroom, the door of which had been closed at the time when I needed to use the restroom, and that I wasn’t the only man who had a hard time finding it. On subsequent parties at her house, she put up a sign that pointed to the “boys bathroom.”
A few months later, when I was told a prayer request concerning Valerie and a court hearing, I e-mailed her to see how things went and what the deal was. She kept prodding me about who told me about it and what was said, and when I told her exactly what was said, that things would be resolved in the best way, and who told me, she then laid into me like Mike Tyson, never giving me a chance to respond and accusing me of gossip and butting into her life.
Her accusations wandered from the exaggerated to the imagined. First, she accused me of rifling through her bathroom at the party at her house, which was both a highly exaggerated and incredibly imagined view of what had happened. Then, she accused me of telling a friend of hers that she was going to a dance party I had organized, which was a completely fabricated accusation (I had told her friend that Valerie was also invited but never said she had confirmed she’d be there). And, she then accused me of being a party to gossip and butting into her business by even trying to inquire how things went with the court hearing.
When Valerie quit spewing her accusations, she then threatened to take these complaints to the church leadership if I ever got in her way again. Since her venom flew so quickly without giving me any chance for a rebuttal, I just answered her that I heard what she said, and she then hung up on me.
After getting my ears roasted by Valerie’s fire, I called the friend who had shared the prayer request with me, and he then told me, “Now you know the real Valerie,” and that his prayer request had been highly couched in his understanding that this was what she would do while in court (she had apparently done a lot of other manipulative things while there, too, but I won’t go into those).
As I looked back on my interactions with Valerie, I did see some signs that she was a very controlling person. The most extreme one I recall was one time when a bunch of us were having lunch at a restaurant after church on Sunday; she asked me to go with her son while he went to the restroom. Now, if this were a dangerous place and he was much younger than his eight years, I can see a mother’s concern more readily, but come on! All I did, though, was walk with him to the restroom door and waited outside until he came out.
After seeing her actions, I now understand the unspoken hesitations by others when I expressed to them an interest in her. And since Valerie and Yancy both attend the same church and singles group, I guess you could say that I was beginning to see how truly sick the women are in that group, making me even less interested in any of the women that were available there.
The story doesn’t end there, but this posting does.
One night Valerie was having a party at her home, and when I needed to use the facilities, the only one I could find was the restroom that was adjacent to Valerie’s bedroom. I thought it strange that a woman would leave so many personal and feminine things out in her restroom when having a party, so I told her about it, also letting her know that it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable but that it might make other men feel that way when they used her restroom.
So she’d know I wasn’t personally uncomfortable, I told her how my sister used to have me go to the store and buy her cigarettes for her when I was 8 years old, and after they started not believing me anymore that I was getting them for my sister, she then had me pick up her feminine products at the same time.
I later learned that men at Valerie’s party were to use her son’s bathroom, the door of which had been closed at the time when I needed to use the restroom, and that I wasn’t the only man who had a hard time finding it. On subsequent parties at her house, she put up a sign that pointed to the “boys bathroom.”
A few months later, when I was told a prayer request concerning Valerie and a court hearing, I e-mailed her to see how things went and what the deal was. She kept prodding me about who told me about it and what was said, and when I told her exactly what was said, that things would be resolved in the best way, and who told me, she then laid into me like Mike Tyson, never giving me a chance to respond and accusing me of gossip and butting into her life.
Her accusations wandered from the exaggerated to the imagined. First, she accused me of rifling through her bathroom at the party at her house, which was both a highly exaggerated and incredibly imagined view of what had happened. Then, she accused me of telling a friend of hers that she was going to a dance party I had organized, which was a completely fabricated accusation (I had told her friend that Valerie was also invited but never said she had confirmed she’d be there). And, she then accused me of being a party to gossip and butting into her business by even trying to inquire how things went with the court hearing.
When Valerie quit spewing her accusations, she then threatened to take these complaints to the church leadership if I ever got in her way again. Since her venom flew so quickly without giving me any chance for a rebuttal, I just answered her that I heard what she said, and she then hung up on me.
After getting my ears roasted by Valerie’s fire, I called the friend who had shared the prayer request with me, and he then told me, “Now you know the real Valerie,” and that his prayer request had been highly couched in his understanding that this was what she would do while in court (she had apparently done a lot of other manipulative things while there, too, but I won’t go into those).
As I looked back on my interactions with Valerie, I did see some signs that she was a very controlling person. The most extreme one I recall was one time when a bunch of us were having lunch at a restaurant after church on Sunday; she asked me to go with her son while he went to the restroom. Now, if this were a dangerous place and he was much younger than his eight years, I can see a mother’s concern more readily, but come on! All I did, though, was walk with him to the restroom door and waited outside until he came out.
After seeing her actions, I now understand the unspoken hesitations by others when I expressed to them an interest in her. And since Valerie and Yancy both attend the same church and singles group, I guess you could say that I was beginning to see how truly sick the women are in that group, making me even less interested in any of the women that were available there.
The story doesn’t end there, but this posting does.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Life’s a Dance…You Learn As You Go…
Although my previous post may have demonstrated the rather immature and viscious game played by a particular woman, I don’t want you to think I believe all women are evil. On the contrary, I enjoy talking with women, being with women, and getting to know them better. I always like hearing a woman’s thoughts on things I’m thinking about. Having two older sisters, I’ve had women around me all my life—no, they did not play weird games with me, but I was spoiled quite a bit, almost like having three mothers growing up.
One of the things I enjoy doing with women is dancing. Yes, I’m one of those unique men who actually loves to dance, and this happened long before Richard Gere saw Jennifer Lopez on his train ride home in the movie Shall We Dance? In fact, it’s been about ten years now when I first started learning country dancing in Dallas, and almost eight years since I started getting more serious with this fun activity.
In Dallas, the country dancing steps are different than they are elsewhere, and when I moved to Arizona, I found I had to teach almost all the women I danced with how to do the steps I knew. On a rare occasion, I ran into some women who had just moved from Chicago and Iowa that already knew those steps, so that made my times dancing more enjoyable.
My favorite dance step is the progressive double two step, which fits well with the faster-beat country songs (practically all of Shania Twain’s greatest hits). For those familiar with east coast swing or jitterbug, it’s the same foot count as the triple-count step, except the couple moves around the dance floor instead of dancing in the middle (that’s another thing that perturbs me about Arizona dancers—they dance in place all over the dance floor instead of in the middle according to proper dance etiquette, causing lots of “traffic jams”).
Another country step I like is called the three step, which is danced to the same songs as the two step (the kind done in Texas, not the Arizona version that has more in common with west coast swing), except shuffling is done on the first three foot movements followed by a walk-step, rather than two quick and two slow walk steps as in the two step.
Of course, the waltz is always a must for those songs that fit that long-short-short/long-short-short beat, and have that special romantic lilt to them. If the song is much faster, though, I prefer a modified polka step, which can almost become a spinning run around the dance floor with the way I like to lead it.
I have been trying a little bit of salsa and cha-cha. In the meantime, east coast swing in its many varieties is a fun style to do, especially when a 40’s or 50’s era song comes on; it can be a great method of shared exercise, too.
I also find dancing a great way to get to talk to my dancing partners, but I do let them concentrate more on breathing when we do a polka or a really fast east coast swing (it’s very important to keep breathing while dancing). To get fancy, I also try to end a song with a dip or a drop, depending on the comfort level of my partner.
A dip is done by keeping your hand behind the woman’s back as she falls backwards, with her keeping her body stiff from her shoulder all the way down to her knees. Once a woman gets comfortable in doing this, she can add some flair to the ending by straightening out her right arm in a “ta-da” manner and kicking her left leg straight up in a cheerleader-style kick. It’s always important for the woman to kick out her left leg, as doing that maneuver with her right leg might cause the man great personal injury, causing him to accidentally drop his partner. Although it takes a fair amount of strength, this is accomplished mainly with leverage. When I start the dip maneuver, I bring the woman directly in front of me and lean towards her and give her a gentle push to my left with my hand on her lower back. With this hand-placement, I can hold a woman up for quite a few seconds and only a few inches from the floor.
A drop is done almost the same way, except I hold on to the woman’s hands with her wrists crossed and give a gentle push towards her, which is the signal for her to lean backwards. Unless a woman has done this maneuver before, I typically show her how to do it off the dance floor a few times before doing it on the dance floor. With this maneuver, I remain standing straight up the entire time while the woman does all the downwards movement. And, just as in the dip, the woman can also do a hand-flair and cheerleader kick if she’s comfortable with the leverage. On the other hand, this maneuver can be more taxing on the woman’s body, as she doesn’t have my hand under her back to help her keep straight, so holding her down for a long time is not a good idea unless she’s sufficiently athletic. Bringing the woman back up after a dip, though, is a bit more of a challenge, so I typically will spin her on her way up so she turns counter-clockwise before facing me again, which is easier for me and more fun-looking to others and the woman than just coming straight up.
For the most daring women, I also love leading a flip. As with the drop, this should be done first off the dance floor and with a woman who is either gymnastically trained or is average or light weight and shorter than the man. Since I’m 6 feet tall and stronger than average, I can flip a woman comfortably two or three times in a song that’s not gymnastically trained up to around 150 lbs and somewhat close to my height. The reason for being extra careful with this maneuver is that the woman is literally flipped in the air around the man’s right arm, which is held straight out; if done correctly, the woman will tuck her legs in and allow the man to push her around his arm while she lightly cups her hands around his arm.
I start the flip maneuver by moving the woman so she’s on my right side in a 90° position to him. Once in that position, the man puts his right arm across the woman’s front and puts his hand on her waist. I place my left hand on the back of her legs behind her knees and push forward so she then somersaults over my right arm.
Well, that’s all for now! Don’t forget to dance…
One of the things I enjoy doing with women is dancing. Yes, I’m one of those unique men who actually loves to dance, and this happened long before Richard Gere saw Jennifer Lopez on his train ride home in the movie Shall We Dance? In fact, it’s been about ten years now when I first started learning country dancing in Dallas, and almost eight years since I started getting more serious with this fun activity.
In Dallas, the country dancing steps are different than they are elsewhere, and when I moved to Arizona, I found I had to teach almost all the women I danced with how to do the steps I knew. On a rare occasion, I ran into some women who had just moved from Chicago and Iowa that already knew those steps, so that made my times dancing more enjoyable.
My favorite dance step is the progressive double two step, which fits well with the faster-beat country songs (practically all of Shania Twain’s greatest hits). For those familiar with east coast swing or jitterbug, it’s the same foot count as the triple-count step, except the couple moves around the dance floor instead of dancing in the middle (that’s another thing that perturbs me about Arizona dancers—they dance in place all over the dance floor instead of in the middle according to proper dance etiquette, causing lots of “traffic jams”).
Another country step I like is called the three step, which is danced to the same songs as the two step (the kind done in Texas, not the Arizona version that has more in common with west coast swing), except shuffling is done on the first three foot movements followed by a walk-step, rather than two quick and two slow walk steps as in the two step.
Of course, the waltz is always a must for those songs that fit that long-short-short/long-short-short beat, and have that special romantic lilt to them. If the song is much faster, though, I prefer a modified polka step, which can almost become a spinning run around the dance floor with the way I like to lead it.
I have been trying a little bit of salsa and cha-cha. In the meantime, east coast swing in its many varieties is a fun style to do, especially when a 40’s or 50’s era song comes on; it can be a great method of shared exercise, too.
I also find dancing a great way to get to talk to my dancing partners, but I do let them concentrate more on breathing when we do a polka or a really fast east coast swing (it’s very important to keep breathing while dancing). To get fancy, I also try to end a song with a dip or a drop, depending on the comfort level of my partner.
A dip is done by keeping your hand behind the woman’s back as she falls backwards, with her keeping her body stiff from her shoulder all the way down to her knees. Once a woman gets comfortable in doing this, she can add some flair to the ending by straightening out her right arm in a “ta-da” manner and kicking her left leg straight up in a cheerleader-style kick. It’s always important for the woman to kick out her left leg, as doing that maneuver with her right leg might cause the man great personal injury, causing him to accidentally drop his partner. Although it takes a fair amount of strength, this is accomplished mainly with leverage. When I start the dip maneuver, I bring the woman directly in front of me and lean towards her and give her a gentle push to my left with my hand on her lower back. With this hand-placement, I can hold a woman up for quite a few seconds and only a few inches from the floor.
A drop is done almost the same way, except I hold on to the woman’s hands with her wrists crossed and give a gentle push towards her, which is the signal for her to lean backwards. Unless a woman has done this maneuver before, I typically show her how to do it off the dance floor a few times before doing it on the dance floor. With this maneuver, I remain standing straight up the entire time while the woman does all the downwards movement. And, just as in the dip, the woman can also do a hand-flair and cheerleader kick if she’s comfortable with the leverage. On the other hand, this maneuver can be more taxing on the woman’s body, as she doesn’t have my hand under her back to help her keep straight, so holding her down for a long time is not a good idea unless she’s sufficiently athletic. Bringing the woman back up after a dip, though, is a bit more of a challenge, so I typically will spin her on her way up so she turns counter-clockwise before facing me again, which is easier for me and more fun-looking to others and the woman than just coming straight up.
For the most daring women, I also love leading a flip. As with the drop, this should be done first off the dance floor and with a woman who is either gymnastically trained or is average or light weight and shorter than the man. Since I’m 6 feet tall and stronger than average, I can flip a woman comfortably two or three times in a song that’s not gymnastically trained up to around 150 lbs and somewhat close to my height. The reason for being extra careful with this maneuver is that the woman is literally flipped in the air around the man’s right arm, which is held straight out; if done correctly, the woman will tuck her legs in and allow the man to push her around his arm while she lightly cups her hands around his arm.
I start the flip maneuver by moving the woman so she’s on my right side in a 90° position to him. Once in that position, the man puts his right arm across the woman’s front and puts his hand on her waist. I place my left hand on the back of her legs behind her knees and push forward so she then somersaults over my right arm.
Well, that’s all for now! Don’t forget to dance…
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Why men don’t ask women out - The Contribution of Yancy Ismalsin
I’ve always wondered about my fellow “brothers” who complain about how women always play games, which makes them feel a need to be superficial in their relationships out of defense. Unfortunately, I can now understand their position, because I’ve experienced some of that game-playing just recently since moving to the Phoenix area.
Of course, it’s true that I’ve experienced game-playing before, but I’ve never seen it played out with such visciousness from women anywhere other than in Phoenix, and when I started attending a church highly recommended by a friend of mine who used to go there when she lived in Phoenix, I would’ve never expected to find such a den of vipers.
My first experience of this church’s singles group was an ice cream social at the home of one of the members. Being a very outgoing person (an ENFJ, for Myers-Briggs enthusiasts), I had no problem going up and talking with both men and women at the party and getting involved in some of the games (fun games, that is, like Taboo, cards, and the like). The thing that shocked me was that one of the guys in the group approached me later in the evening and told me I should wait after a few months of being in the group before asking any of the women out.
At the time I heard this, I thought that was a pretty controlling thing to say; I mean, women are always wondering why men don’t ask them out, and if a guy is told he’s not allowed to ask a woman out, then the guy issuing the commands sounds like he’s trying to hoard the wealth. In retrospect, I should’ve seen this as a sign it was not a friendly group and that I should’ve started looking elsewhere for quality friendships. However, I decided that they really didn’t know me and, for all they knew, I could be a really bad person, so I gave it some time.
I did try to get to know a few women as only friends, but when I finally decided to ask one out, I found out just what kind of evil really lurked in the souls of the women at this supposedly Christ-centered singles group of this conservative church in the Phoenix area.
Yancy Ismalsin (not her real name) was a very attractive and athletic woman with a very beautiful smile (the first thing I noticed about her and attracted me to her). Since I only had her e-mail address, I sent her an e-mail to see if we could get together some time. I knew she enjoyed dancing, so I suggested that but also said that just meeting for coffee some time would be fine for me. Unfortunately, my office at the time was located in the southeast section of the valley, and Yancy’s was in the northeast; those familiar with Phoenix know that can take almost an hour to drive, so we couldn’t meet during the work day, and she said she probably wouldn’t be able to go dancing because she was a single mother with younger sons to care for; unfortunately, that also kept things from working out for a date before work or immediately after work, so I waited for a better time before asking again.
Since my office was closed the entire week of Thanksgiving, I saw a chance to have lunch with some of the friends I’d met as well as having the chance to hook up with Yancy again.
When I made my second request, I was highly shocked when Yancy made wild accusations about me being an unsafe person and how I didn’t take no for an answer. When I asked her what I did to get this kind of response, she only would say that I would never listen and wouldn’t tell me. Because this disarmed me severely and I was incredibly homesick for Dallas, I decided to go back to Dallas the next weekend and see some old friends.
When I arrived, I hooked up with some really close friends (both men and women) who know me very well, and they also were very confused by this girl’s reaction, so I resolved to see Yancy as the unsafe person she accused me of and, although not the kind of solution I would’ve preferred, chose a special boundary of avoiding her at every opportunity. When she had a party at her house a few weeks later, I even went so far as to go back to Dallas that weekend.
Just as it says in Romans 8:28, God used Yancy’s behavior to help me get over my mounting homesickness by giving me an extra good reason to see my friends in Dallas that I’d been missing so much. Although it is difficult, God has put it on my heart to pray for her so that she will get the healing she needs and so He will protect other men from being maligned by her until the time she gets better.
Of course, it’s true that I’ve experienced game-playing before, but I’ve never seen it played out with such visciousness from women anywhere other than in Phoenix, and when I started attending a church highly recommended by a friend of mine who used to go there when she lived in Phoenix, I would’ve never expected to find such a den of vipers.
My first experience of this church’s singles group was an ice cream social at the home of one of the members. Being a very outgoing person (an ENFJ, for Myers-Briggs enthusiasts), I had no problem going up and talking with both men and women at the party and getting involved in some of the games (fun games, that is, like Taboo, cards, and the like). The thing that shocked me was that one of the guys in the group approached me later in the evening and told me I should wait after a few months of being in the group before asking any of the women out.
At the time I heard this, I thought that was a pretty controlling thing to say; I mean, women are always wondering why men don’t ask them out, and if a guy is told he’s not allowed to ask a woman out, then the guy issuing the commands sounds like he’s trying to hoard the wealth. In retrospect, I should’ve seen this as a sign it was not a friendly group and that I should’ve started looking elsewhere for quality friendships. However, I decided that they really didn’t know me and, for all they knew, I could be a really bad person, so I gave it some time.
I did try to get to know a few women as only friends, but when I finally decided to ask one out, I found out just what kind of evil really lurked in the souls of the women at this supposedly Christ-centered singles group of this conservative church in the Phoenix area.
Yancy Ismalsin (not her real name) was a very attractive and athletic woman with a very beautiful smile (the first thing I noticed about her and attracted me to her). Since I only had her e-mail address, I sent her an e-mail to see if we could get together some time. I knew she enjoyed dancing, so I suggested that but also said that just meeting for coffee some time would be fine for me. Unfortunately, my office at the time was located in the southeast section of the valley, and Yancy’s was in the northeast; those familiar with Phoenix know that can take almost an hour to drive, so we couldn’t meet during the work day, and she said she probably wouldn’t be able to go dancing because she was a single mother with younger sons to care for; unfortunately, that also kept things from working out for a date before work or immediately after work, so I waited for a better time before asking again.
Since my office was closed the entire week of Thanksgiving, I saw a chance to have lunch with some of the friends I’d met as well as having the chance to hook up with Yancy again.
When I made my second request, I was highly shocked when Yancy made wild accusations about me being an unsafe person and how I didn’t take no for an answer. When I asked her what I did to get this kind of response, she only would say that I would never listen and wouldn’t tell me. Because this disarmed me severely and I was incredibly homesick for Dallas, I decided to go back to Dallas the next weekend and see some old friends.
When I arrived, I hooked up with some really close friends (both men and women) who know me very well, and they also were very confused by this girl’s reaction, so I resolved to see Yancy as the unsafe person she accused me of and, although not the kind of solution I would’ve preferred, chose a special boundary of avoiding her at every opportunity. When she had a party at her house a few weeks later, I even went so far as to go back to Dallas that weekend.
Just as it says in Romans 8:28, God used Yancy’s behavior to help me get over my mounting homesickness by giving me an extra good reason to see my friends in Dallas that I’d been missing so much. Although it is difficult, God has put it on my heart to pray for her so that she will get the healing she needs and so He will protect other men from being maligned by her until the time she gets better.
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