Cherry’s Dating Horror Stories…part of the “Thank God It Wasn’t Me Series”…Mr. Perfect

Cherry’s Dating Horror Stories…part of the “Thank God It Wasn’t Me Series”…Mr. Perfect

Miss Cherry just loooovesss those random conversations that make life too fun. Little celebrations of the ridiculous events that resonate. So, it was the beyond random conversation with the New Service Customer Service Cutie at her soon to be Cable, Internet and TV provider…somewhere in the Midwest…that triggered a memory for Cherry…and it went something like this…

“So, Ma’am…do you want the bundled package? And how soon do want the install?”

“ASAP, and Yes. I am in desperate need of internet…as it’s ruining my life to not have it right now. And, about the TV…I haven’t had cable in a year. I shut it down because I was saturated.”

“Oh, I get it. What did you watch?”

“Well, I had pneumonia for over 27 weeks last year…and spent month after month…laying on the couch…in a pool of sweat…unable to breathe or move…unable to write or talk. The only thing I could really do was push the buttons on my remote. So…I got hooked on all of The Real Housewives. All of them. Matter of fact, I got hooked on everything. History Channel, SyFy Channel, Food Network, Cooking Channel, Crime Shows…you name it…I was hooked on it. That time frame pickled my brain on so many levels.”

“I get it. I was in a car accident last year…and spent 9 months in a bed…unable to move. All you do is watch TV. I got hooked on Law and Order, NCIS, all of the crime channels, and How I Met Your Mother. I’m saturated too. And, here I work for a cable company.”

We laughed. I expressed my sympathy for her accident. She understood. I understood.

“You know, sweetie…(she’s only 20 years old…same age as my son)…haven’t you found that since you have been watching these crime and detective shows…you notice things you haven’t noticed before?”

“Oh, yes!!!!! I see details in everything. Sometimes they mess with my head.”

“I know…me too. So, I’m laying there watching…Children Who Kill…and I’m going through my mental list of my kid’s friends thinking…who do I need to watch closely?”

And she laughs.

“I have a funny story about my new CSI skills, if you want to hear it?”

“Yes, Ma’am…you are making me laugh…and making my day. Please, do! (and she starts belly laughing)”

So, I start telling her about meeting a guy that was…”the one”…for one of my friends. Of course, he wasn’t “the one”…and she is now with the proper “the one”…but it’s a great story of using all of those CSI skills in real life dating scenarios. Anyway…it goes like this…

“Cherry, you have to meet him. He’s perfect. What an amazing guy!!!!!! Please! Please, come by the restaurant where we are…so you can meet him and tell me what you think.”

So, I agree…and drive 45 minutes to walk into a sports bar/restaurant…to meet Mr. Perfect. I walk in and they are sitting at the bar…which places me flanking the corner with him…and I’m to his right. He is extremely nice. Full scotch and water sitting in front of him…my friend with her wine. He orders me a drink. I order a small appetizer. It comes…I share…and at one point…I drop my napkin from the barstool to the floor. I bend down to try to reach it…and I see a huge pool of golden liquid.

To the bartender…“Excuse me, Sir. But I think someone has spilled something on the floor here…and you might want to send someone to clean it up before someone steps into it and possibly falls. It’s pretty large, so you might want to bring a mop.”

Mr. Perfect chimes in…”Oh, I spilled my beer earlier.” And I think…”hmmmm, he’s drinking scotch and water. This has happened since I have been sitting here.”

“When did you spill your beer?”

“Earlier, before you came.” To which my girlfriend chimes in…”But, you aren’t drinking beer.” Silence.

So, I bend down to investigate. After all, I have been watching CSI (Crime Scene Investigation) for over a year, and all those skills are now in the forefront of my mind. I am now…a Forensic Goddess. Time to figure this shit out.

“Well, let me see. If you had been drinking a beer, and it had fallen from this height…assuming it wasn’t a glass mug or container…it would have spilled and bounced…or broken. No glass. And, I see that they are serving beer in glass. In addition, there is no splatter.”

“Splatter? What in the Hell are you talking about? I dropped my beer.”

“No, actually you didn’t. If you check closely, the edges of this rather large puddle are solid, which means this has come from a single source…continuous stream. Might I add, there is no splatter. That is very important. There is always splatter with a drop. It’s an impact thing.”

Mr. Perfect is very angry right now…and honestly, I’m just tired and investigating. I feel it is my solemn duty to check this man out for my girlfriend. First red flag, big drinker…possible alcoholic. Second flag…he’s a big, fat liar. He didn’t drop shit…there…was…no…splatter.
So, he excuses himself and walks towards the restrooms. I watch him walk. Every single time his right foot touches down…splatters…two to three little drops. Houston, we have a problem. But, this is something I’m going to have discuss with my girlfriend in the light of day. Never seen this before…nope…this is a new one.

He comes back, and I excuse myself to leave. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Perfect. Have a nice night.” To which he says…”Wait, Cherry. We’re going CW dancing, meeting Gigi and Lili. You should join us.”
I don’t. The next day, I hear from my girlfriend, who says…”Isn’t he perfect? The only thing about him is that he has a sweating problem. Only on the front. He sweated all night. I stopped dancing with him, because he got the front of my clothes wet. He got Gigi and Lili wet too. Then, he spent the night, and sweat all over my bed. It’s soaked. What’s the best way to remove sweat from a mattress? Can you come over and help me figure this whole mattress thing out? Also, I probably need to clean the leather in my Mercedes. He sweat all over that as well.”

Silence. “Sweetheart, I should have pulled you aside last night…but I wanted to think about it. He isn’t perfect, even though I know you really like him. He isn’t Mr. Perfect…He’s Mr. Pee Pants. All of that is urine.”
Horror. Shock. Crying. Understandably. Which made me jump in my car and head to her home. We investigated all of the scenes of the crime…and determined…he’s Mr. Pee Pants. So, my friend calls him to confront him. He says he can’t control it when he’s drinking. Why? He’s a hideous, advanced alcoholic. And honestly, he doesn’t care. I guess peeing on the floor of a restaurant bar is just another day in the life of this man.

The kicker is…she kept dating him. Compassion. So, it wasn’t until several weeks later, when we were all sitting in her home for her Christmas Party…with her sister and sister’s family, other family, friends…it all came to a head. He just stood there, and without a care in the world…peed on himself. Didn’t care, just kept on drinking, laughing…sucked down all of the bottles in her liquor cabinet. A huge wet spot grew until the entire front of his pants was soaked.
The mattress was tossed and replaced. And, so was the boyfriend. I am happy to report that my dear friend is happily married to a man who not only can control his liquor intake…but his bladder as well. He actually is…Mr. Perfect.

“Ma’am…OH MY GOD!!!! That’s horrible. But, I must say…a wonderful use of all of those hours of watching CSI.”
And, we laughed so hard…that she didn’t schedule my installment on the correct day…matter of fact, she had me two weeks out. I don’t really care. All of those shows can wait.

Miss Cherry needs to just read a book. Honestly, it will probably get her in less trouble out and about. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. Thank God, it wasn’t me.