Kill Bill

You would think that during a blissful vacation in beautiful Down East Maine that I would surely be lacking in tales to share with you from the dating front.

However after pitching my tent I realized that the last time I had been in this very same place, I was VERY newly divorced and just starting to date. I had just gone out with a realtor from Maine (what is it about guys from Maine) and thought we had hit it off. He had called me several times during my camp trip just to stay in touch, which seemed sweet at the time, but now in hindsight I realize it was significant of nothing. Because that is exactly where things went when I returned from vacation that time.

However, this time, I did fall in love ... with a National Park Ranger named Kirk Lurvis. Kirk Lurvis, Kirk Lurvis! How I love that unlikely combination of vowels and consonants as it rolls off the tongue. All cleft chin, park ranger uniform and chock-full of useful information about the rocks beneath our feet, Kirk Lurvis joked with the kids, winked at the mothers and walked into my dreams. Don't try Googling him - he's clearly off the grid. But I can dream, can't I? Take off your ranger hat, embossed leather belt and sensible shoes, Ranger Lurvis. Not since Yogi Bear met Ranger Smith was there a more momentous meeting.

OK, now back to reality. I came home and unpacked when my phone rings. It's Space Man. There is much raucous laughing in the background - he is obviously at a party. "I noticed you called me," he said. I had called him during my 5 hour drive home from KirkLurvisVille the previous day. "Yes, I'm back! Where are you?" He was indeed at a party - a party being thrown by a company he works with. Clearly everyone had brought a guest or their kids -- everyone except him. "Too bad you're not here - it's a lot of fun!" -- yes, he actually said this.

I pointed out he hadn't invited me. "Yeah, I thought about calling you earlier but ..."

But But But ... but you DIDN'T you loser. "I've only been here since 2 or 3." It was now 8pm, meaning his excuse was ... he didn't call me because he was only going to be at the party for 6 or 7 hours. Barely worth bringing a guest.

And the coup de grace -- as our conversation wound down, he said, "Have a good week." And with those 4 words he telegraphed his non-intentions as far as seeing me at any point in the near future.

Now, those readers who know me know I have custody of my kiddo every other week. This is my off week, and he knows this. So "Have a good week" might as well be "have a great month!"

So I'm diving back in online - don't try to find me, because it's not a mainstream dating site. And it has special functionality to block guys from Maine.