NEED A GOOD LAUGH???

I have always kept a journal of some kind since high school. At my both my daughter's insistance, I started a blog in Dec .(http//pennichilton.wordpress.com) I'm just now getting use to navigating it and getting topics and stories organized. Last night I was looking through an old journal to find an idea or story I could post when I ran across this one. It has absolutely nothing to do with weight loss, but considering the time frame was the same as losing my job, I believe I allowed it to be a contributing factor to my weight gain. Prior to losing my job, my personal life had gone down the tubes and I joined an online dating service. It's quite a long story, but a true one,,,,I hope it will give ya'll at least a chuckle at my predicament.

....>>>>>..""..When creating profiles for an online dating service, caution is advised. I found singing my praises difficult, so I just wrote things that were sweet and honest. After receiving quite a few responses, I decided that sweet must equal you can deceive, insult, offend and generally run all over me because I’m desperate and I’ll keep coming back for more! So I changed it up a bit, risking coming off as some hard-nosed b===. yet keeping the same theme. Not surprisingly, this seem to attract slightly different responses. Obviously, sounding like a b=== means I’m ready to become a mistress, nursemaid, chief cook and foot washer because I’m heartless, I have no real feelings or concerns- and I’m desperate. There’s that word again! Desperate I was not.

I decided to try one more time, and once again changed it up but in a different direction. This time instead of listing what I was looking for, I compiled a list of ’if you’re looking for….do not contact me.’ Well this also came back to haunt me. Moronic creatures seem to have come out of the woodwork like nasty little vermin. I should have known better – if you tell a little boy ‘do not’…it only sparks curiosity. I then thought I was just beating a dead horse – I was never going to find someone I considered worthy of my time and trouble, and certainly no anyone I cared to actually meet, especially after my first experience (see first story). So I tabled the hopes of meeting ‘Mr. Right’ or even ‘Mr.You’ll do for Now’.

I truly believe that I should have been born in an era where men were true gentlemen and caring protectors, and women were true ladies and loving helpmates. However, I also believe in all things are learning experiences. I had talked with men who simply wanted nothing more than for me to talk to them like something directly out of Hustler’s Best of the Best Forums (yeah, in their dreams), to men who were ready to jump on a plane to meet me and proclaim their love after simply saying hello (save the miles, you’re too desperate).

I think I have discovered a link to all these commoners…and that commonalty is camping and fishing. Yep, you read it right. There’s been only one in the mix who said,”if you’re into fish I’ll take you to Red Lobster,” and his idea of camping was the closest Holiday Inn. I have learned that a woman who admits one of her favorite pastimes is to pitch a tent and spend a relaxing weekend on the lake fishing, says more than just ‘I enjoy camping and fishing.’ Very recently, I learned it must mean that we gather our own food and want to spend the rest of our lives ‘roughing’ it. – - - Which brings me to my next story…

To understand this better, I suppose you’ll need a little history–so bare with me here please –. Several years ago, I took a job in a local convenience store. (talk about entertainment!) I had worked for an avionics company and went through a lay-off, with no possibility of returning, sometime after 911. Then, as now, jobs were tough to find, so I swallowed some pride and accepted a job as a clerk/cashier. During the course of my employment, I developed quite a regular clientele. One young couple in particular patronized the store several times a day. To protect the names of the not so innocent, I’ll call them Jack and Jill.

Jack was a local truck driver and stopped in for fuel daily; after work he would come in again, without fail, for a 12 pk of beer. Jill -who had already spit out 5 rug-rats before the age of 24 and whose only job seemed to be raising another generation of questionable citizens, loved to come in and talk and talk. I came to know everything about them, from the kid’s birthdays to intimate details of their sex life. (To be sure, Jack was not the only one keeping Jill busy). At any rate, they were both actually very nice, in their own backward and ignorant, redneck way. They were just basically your typical, uneducated young couple who were doing the best their limits would allow.

One day they came in together, and while I rang their purchases of the usual beer and pork rinds, lottery tickets and candy for the kids, Jill stated that she would really like me to meet her uncle. My first thought was how do I politely decline? She must have sensed my hesitancy because she quickly laughed and said, ”Don’t worry, most of the time he has more class than me and Jack.” Sweet little Jill! I put her off, explaining a list of things that kept me too busy to meet anyone at that time. (I was still a little traumatized with my attempt at online dating–the first story). Jack suddenly interrupted and said, “You should give us your ‘digits’ for him and let him holler at ya…ya’ll gots lots in common…..he loves campin and fishin,- even has his own boat and a tent that sleeps 6!” Dang, what woman could turn that down? But turn it down I did, while it seemed to become their mission to ‘hook me up’ with Uncle Billy Bob. Everyday from then on, almost invariably, they would ask if I was ready to meet him. The day I told them I was taking a new job, Jill gave me Billy Bob’s number and said ” please call him, he lives way out in the country and he’s so lonely.” No, I never called and the ‘digits’ were forgotten like I tried to forget that store. That was eight years ago.

A little over three years ago, I decided to give another dating site a shot. I had met and dated a few men since the days of Jack and Jill – through family and friends- but none of them turned out to me being worth more than 2 or 3 dates. Nothing was really clicking. So once again I went through the process of filtering and sifting the BS and was getting pretty discouraged. After a month or so I received a response from someone who described himself as a tall, good-looking, and intelligent man who was financially secure, yada yada - looking for a companion for, among other things, but what else? - camping and fishing. It wasn’t the profile that really sparked my interest, but the pictures he sent. One in particular was of him and 2 of the biggest catfish I’ve ever seen! Ok, everyone has weaknesses and one of mine is fishing. From the time I was 2 my daddy had a fishing rod in my hand– I have wonderful memories of those times growing up. Maybe it ‘hooks’ me every time because I’m trying to recreate those serene moments. Who knows? Anyway, I responded and things progressed with chatting online, then phone calls. and after a several weeks, deciding when to meet.

In the beginning, during the niceties of introductions, he said his name was William Robert, but sometimes he liked to be called Bill. One night we were talking about our families. I told him that I recently become a grandmother for the third time and he said he had a niece that had popped out number 8 around the same time. Wow, eight kids at 33…poor thing. Another conversation brought up employment histories. I reluctantly told him about my time at the store and he said that his niece lived in that same area. I’m not as quick thinking as I use to be-being ‘mental-pausal’, especially when it comes to remembering certain people. -(Maybe if once he had said Jill, instead of ‘his niece,’ I would have gotten the connection). Then came a long pause…….William Robert says, ‘You’re that nice lady my niece wanted me to meet a few years ago!” Dear Lord, I wanted to crawl in a hole and escape the small world we live in. How could this be? And all I could see were those huge catfish! I managed to end our conversation by tentatively agreeing to go fishing with him. Yep, no joke, William Robert was Uncle Billy Bob.

Still somewhat in shock, I didn’t answer my phone for three days. Finally on the fourth day, I answered to find – of all people- but not all that surprising, – little Jill. A brief walk down memory lane, catching up on info about all the kids, discussing the crazy coincidence of Uncle Billy Bob and about 2 hours later, I realized I had been talked into going to the lake with them on the following Saturday.

The day before I shared this strange irony with a friend of mine. She was all for me meeting this guy. She said it had to be fate. Yeah, right. Fate my pearly white butt. As my luck and his misfortune would have it, that Friday Uncle Billy Bob had a minor motorcyle accident. Overnight in the hospital with an injured leg, lots of bruising and he was home. – Just enough sob story to make me feel sorry for him. -He started calling me about 10 times a day with updates on his injuries, whining and begging me to come help him through his recovery- nurse him back to health - and other times being so charming, talking about places and things he wanted us to do when he recovered. I begin to notice a slight change in his demeanor. I pushed my concern away, thinking he was a little depressed because of the accident, and not being able to work. This continued for about 3 weeks until which time he was getting around well on crutches.

I’m going spare you the great details, conversations and all the contemplation that went into my decision to actually go fishing with these people- and don’t forget the guy, (according to my friend) I was destined to know.

Now William Robert posted on his profile that he lived in Lagrange. (A town only 20 miles from me and I never questioned it) In one of our chats he said he lived in a nice place on acreage. Little did I know that I was going to have to literally follow Jack and Jill up the hill. Uncle Billy Bob didn’t live in Lagrange, but in some remote area of Alabama, just across the state line, outside of Roanoake…now to me that’s just a ‘whole other country’. I wasn’t at all surprised when we finally got up that hill, two miles into the woods, and I found myself gazing at a two room shack with chickens in the yard. It had been a long drive, so I scanned the area for any sign of an out-house. What I did find was that boat everyone had talked about…I’m so glad I didn’t see the tent! I sucked it up because after all, this was suppose to be my destiny, right? LOL Even I’m not that stupid. At this point I felt like nothing else could surprise me –Ha wrong again.

Jill had called Uncle Billy Bob just before our ascension, so you would think he’d been waiting and ready. Nope, not the case. We walked in and there he stood, fresh out of the shower, dripping with water and nothing but a skinny towel covering him. Now my daddy taught me that it didn’t matter if I was a girl…the respectful thing to do when you meet someone, is to extend the arm for a handshake. Sorry daddy. Not this time. I was actually afraid if I offered my hand where he might try to put in it… so I just timidly said with a nod, ‘nice to finally meet you.’ The very first thing he said to me, the very first thing-”Well, hell gal, you’re a little chunky ain’t ya? (I certainly was not ‘chunky’ at that time!) Don’t you worry now, ole Billy Bob gonna work it right off of you tonight after you cook my dinner…hehehehe..gal like you probably ain’t had none in a while…now get over here, earn you some brownie points, and dry my feet, my leg still swoll-up and I can’t reach ‘em,” -as he pulls the towel off and throws it at me!! The word ‘deliverance’ came to mind as turned my back to him, trying to hide my embarrassment and amazement at his audacity/ I tossed the towel back over my shoulder and told him to just let his feet air-dry.

Now during this little exchange, Jack and Jill are covering their mouths in an attempt not burst out laughing - evidently, this was normal behavior and they were laughing at the fact that I seemed so shocked! Jill finally suggested that Uncle Billy Bob go and get dressed so we could get to the lake. I excused myself and went outside. I decided to make an SOS call – to have someone call me, so that I could say the call was an emergency and I had to leave. But guess what? I didn’t have any service, not one single bar and I walked all over the yard, fighting through all the chickens, trying to get the phone to work. I kept wondering the whole time, where was William Robert? -the guy I have talked to so many times, who spoke sweetly and as a gentleman…

As I came back around the house to escape to my car, he was already planted in the passenger seat and started yelling, “Com’ on now woman, get your *kitten* over here and let’s get on the road.” It was then that Jill came up to me and said, “don’t you fret none, get him to the lake and he’ll be fine, he’s only got 3 in ‘em as far as we can tell, -(I looked in the back seat to see a big cooler, obviously full of beer-) and I don’t think he’s had them pills today.”

The lake was only 15 more miles so I thought by the time I followed Jack and Jill there, I would have come up with something believable that would get me out of this latest disaster. I got in the car and he started putting on the charm like he had on the phone…about 4 miles up the road he started grabbing at me inappropriately and talking crass again… Suddenly, he said,” there’s a store on up here..stop so I can get me a travelin beer..” (what? that case you have in the back isn’t enough?) Just as the words, ‘I’d rather you not drink in my car,’ were about to come out of my mouth, it hit me like a ton of bricks! Jill’s words – 3 in him…hasn’t taken pills…Damn! He doesn’t have 3 beers in him, – he has 3 people! Those pills Jill mentioned aren’t for his leg pain, but medication to help control -multiple personality disorder-!

Dear God, where is that store? I pulled in, asked him to get me a coke, watched him go into the store, and threw the car in reverse and peeled off like bat out of hell! Yep, I left the psycho there and when I got to an area where I finally had phone service, I called Jill. I told her what I had done and that I was sorry, but she might want to turn around and go pick him up. I explained that it was just too much, and I wasn’t willing to wait around to see what personality #3 was going to be like. She apologized for not divulging this to me, stating that I always seemed like such a compassionate, patient person, she’d always thought I would be perfect for him. (Seems as though the different personalities started re-surfacing after the lost of his beloved mother).

As I drove back home, I replayed in my mind, our many phone conversations and realized the clues were there. I concluded that William Robert was the charming gentleman. Bill was the whiny baby who always begged for my help and who talked as if we had been together forever. And Uncle Billy Bob- well we know who he is- – an ignorant, disrespectful *kitten*. Those changes I noted in his demeanor at times was when Billy Bob was coming out.

To this day he still calls and sends emails. Although I have long blocked his number from my phone, he’s still able to leave voice mail. About every couple of weeks I am some what entertained, because “life is like a box of chocolates, I never know who I’m going to get!”

Ever after I ‘recovered’ from this ridiculous adventure, I stayed on the dating site a little longer,----with one major change. Under the ‘hobbies/interests/things I enjoy’ section…you WILL NOT find camping and fishing!""
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