Can’t Buy Me…

In about May of this year I met a man who seemed like he had his ducks all in a row. He told me he operated 3 medical clinics, 2 in my town and 1 Toronto. I misunderstood “operated” for “managed”. I learned after the fact that he owns them. He was also in the process of moving here from Toronto and only been separated for 6 months. In the split he said he was awarded the family cottage to live until he bought a house here. Right…

After a few chats back and forth I accepted his invitation for a coffee. I went against my own judgement and met him a local play park since he had his youngest son with him. We were able to talk a bit while he played with his son but not enough that I could get any definite good or bad vibe from him. He seemed normal enough. I left after an hour and only because I felt bad that I was taking time away from his son.

He texted me later that day and asked if I could come to his house for coffee once his son was in bed. After some deliberation I agreed to make my arrival for 9:30PM.

I will set the stage a bit here. The area that he lives is known as cottage country. I’m following my GPS, driving slowly as there aren’t street lights out there and a possibility of wildlife on the country roads. I’m checking out all the quaint little cottages and thinking I’m probably in for coffee in front of warm wood stove.

That was not the case. I turned town a road where I immediately noticed that the standard of living was MUCH higher and the “cottages” were MUCH bigger. Within minutes my GPS tells me I’m at my destination. I looked up to what I could only describe as a “mansion-type” house. OH MY GOD…No way, I had to be at the wrong place. Then I saw him waving from the window. Yep, I’m there.

I parked beside a shiny black Escalade….which he certainly wasn’t driving when I met him. I entered the “cottage” to notice all hardwood floors, granite counter tops in the kitchen…and oh look, an enormous boat in the back yard. He then offered to make me espresso from the machine that is stationed on the counter…since that’s a regular thing in a swanky cottage. I opted for hot chocolate…which for the record was Organic….who buys Organic hot chocolate? Really?

I think what I’m getting at is that despite being a nice man…this kind of life style isn’t for me. I’m not the type of woman who can easily be wined and dined. After an hour or so I left and did some contemplating. He told me he wanted to see me again the next weekend. The kicker was when he said he couldn’t find someone to watch his son so his ex was going to come down that weekend. He wanted to confirm plans with me so he could “book” some time away. Pardon me? Book? I declared my suspicions at this time that he’s not really separated. He insisted that he was and that I could meet his “wife” if I wished.

Hell No. What?

I’m a working woman. I own my house and as such my kids and I live pretty well. Not mansion and Escalade well…but well enough. I’m sorry, but I can’t be proud to be the rebound after this man’s marriage fell apart. I ended up writing him a Dear John type of e-mail than told him he needs to be single for a lot longer but that if he so wishes I’m sure he can find someone who will enjoy all he wants to spend on them. I also mentioned that I didn’t feel like we were in the same social class because he was worried about making time for dance lessons and way his huge bay window was installed….where I worry about a balloon payment on my house and living paycheque to paycheque.

On to the next….as much as my mother and friends are telling me not to….damn morals!


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