So I've been reading a book my mom (Helena mom not the other one) gave me for my birthday and I've realized the reason I don't have a book deal yet is that I've been leaving all the interesting stuff out of my blog. In an effort to be careful (my Dad reads this) and optimistic all the time, some of the crazier stories fall by the wayside.
So, in the absence of any new material I'll start telling some stories. And I have quite a few of them, most of them should have taught me a lesson by now. One important lesson would be "You're not in a cult anymore Margaux, stop being so effing trusting". But old habits Die Hard. (Yippee Ki-yay! Sorry, I couldn't resist...)*Disclaimer, anything I write going forward may or may not be true.*
There have been some great guys (we all loved The American), but I've also dated my share of the ones who would make you cock your head and say "huh?".
Like the guy who tried to convince me to sleep with him because we were on a date on a day that some cult said the world was going to end. (The world didn't end. And I didn't sleep with him Daddy.) Or the one who wrote a screenplay about a guy who secretly liked dressing up as a robot. When he was in the shower one morning I checked the closet but I couldn't find a robot outfit so I assume he must be hiding it somewhere else...
One of the guys I dated ended up in the psych ward (not my fault, honest). There was the sociopath (who pretended to be a fireman), the ex-con, (I know, I know. I work corporate. I just don't love the guys in gray suits and blue ties. Although I may or may not have made out with one of them in a meeting room.) and the bad Russian dude. Oooohhh, let's talk about him. I was getting sick of dating, so I started going out with people for random reasons ie. I've never dated a black guy, he's a lawyer (BAD IDEA), he has a sailboat.
So he had a sailboat. Assume he still does, unless it sank, because he liked to take way too many people out on it in lightning storms and smoke pot (but that's another story). He took me out for a nice dinner and happened to mention he was born in Russia and came to Canada when he was 9. I told him I couldn't hear an accent. He said, just wait. And of course as the evening wore on, he became not only impossible to understand but also quite annoying. We went to a vodka bar later that had a private area booked for a function, but he just walked through the velvet rope, sat down, took his SHOES off, ignored the waitresses protests and made her bring us drinks. Then we went to an after hours club (I'd never been to one before - everyone except me looked like an anorexic supermodel).
Long story short, when he dropped me off in the wee hours of the morning, I was not well, I puked all over his SUV and was determined to never date someone with a sailboat, ever again. Yet, he kept calling me. Which makes me wonder if all guys are secretly just masochistic because I've been on so many dates where I was very well behaved and didn't get sick in anyone's SUV, and I never heard from them again.
I just remembered a good story about another lawyer I only went out with because I'd never dated anyone Jewish before. The first night we met he told me I'd have to convert so his mom would agree to our marriage. But I'll save that for another time. :)
REMEMBER: Most of this is not true. Except for the parts that are.
LOL!
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