Only stalk if you're celery

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.  And again.  And then some more.  And maybe give it another shot.  And then one more time.  Ok, one more time after that.  Until you become a stalker.

This guy has been messaging me all year--March 6, April 28, July 8, October 19, November 11, November 12, later on November 12, yet again on November 12, November 17 and today.  I don't respond, but he keeps on trying.  Like a raccoon scratching at your patio door.  I would block him, but it provides entertainment.  And blog material.  But why don't I respond, you ask?  Well, aside from the poor capitalization, lack of punctuation, and cyber stalking, there's this:

Honored and creeped out as I am to be the object of your friend-with-benefits desire, let it be known that I already have lots of friends, I get benefits from work, and I am not an adulteress.  It's a thing with me...the Ten Commandments and all.  (There's a whole other post coming soon about that.)  

But the litany of messages...I mean come on.  The last one came up as I was taking a screen shot of his profile for this post.  Note the green circle next to his photo.  That means he's online.  So he saw that I was online and sent me a message.  Because, you know, today just might be the day that enough of my good-decision-making brain cells die and I message back.  I am on some good drugs for a foot injury, which I washed down this morning with a mimosa (on accident, seriously, I thought it was just OJ), and I did have a lot of anesthetic shot into my cheek for a filling, and have only eaten a 230-calorie Lean Cuisine all day, but even all of that has not clouded my judgement as I have a pretty good tolerance...but not for men like this.

Let me draw you a picture

The other day I matched with someone on Tinder and we chatted for a couple days.  I was pretty excited because he was actually kind of hot.  He was married for 15 years and is divorced (not a big deal)...because his wife left him for another woman (ouch).  Dude, that sucks.  But it opened up a chance for me.  We had a lot of things in common...love of travel, same college degrees, and we both do endurance events.  It was fun having a conversation with some substance.  So I asked if he was on Facebook so we could chat using a real keyboard rather than a smartphone and the Tinder app.  He immediately sent his name and I friend requested him.  He accepted.

And I found out he lives two rectangle states away (and is only here for work periodically throughout the year).

And has four kids (not a big deal since I don't have any).

And his ex-wife left him for the woman in a married couple with whom they were friends (awkward).

Now the ex and girlfriend live in his former house with his four kids and the other couple's one child.

And the girlfriend's ex-husband bought a house down the street from that house so he could be close to his child.

And this guy moved in with him.

But they're not together.  Just housemates.  He even sent me a diagram.

So the moms live as a couple in the one house with the five combined kids, and the dads live down the block in another house as roommates.  But the kids can come and go from either house as they please.

And they all spend their free time together.  Because, you know, they were friends before the whole switcharoo took place.

And he has posted professional family photos of all nine of them and calls the whole group his family and the extra child calls him "dad."

And while this is a great scenario for the kids to have both parents nearby and amicable, it's not a great a scenario for anyone wanting to date either of the ex-husbands.

Because while I appreciate the modern family, the idea of what is essentially a loosely organized commune in the Great West does not light my fire.

So back for more Tinder.