Well, in a moment of weakness/intoxication/stupidity, I did. And he apparently is never going to go away! I of course did not date him when I lived in Phoenix. In Phoenix, I had options. This was a Bullhead City desperate times call for desperate measures situation. He was the only hot guy in town - what was I supposed to do? Yes, I realize NOW that I should have opted for the not as hot chef with the ugly car. At least he had a car. And a job!
Anywho, this was eons ago and I luckily came to my senses, found someone great, and moved to Vegas. Fast forward to this week when my friend and accidental PI Lena calls to tell me that she not only saw him, but TALKED to him. She hasn't quite mastered the whole 'be quiet, look pretty' move, but we're working on it. Now he knows that I know that he's back in town - apparently Bullhead City, Arizona is magnetized and it is physically impossible for losers to stay away for long.
If that were the end of the six degrees-esque scenario, I would be able to just let it go. But it's not. I log on to this root of all evil place we call myspace and was doing some investigating of my own. It had NOTHING to do with aforementioned Loser. I was just browsing a friend of a friend's page - when I realized that said friend of a friend apparently knows a few people in town herself - I mean, she did look like the kind of girl who gets around, but I wasn't expecting such an immediate discovery. While looking at her friends, I see my friend and two rows DIRECTLY below him, I see Loser. Perfect. The two people I want to stay as far apart from one another as possible will probably be taking turns doing body shots off the slut (err, I mean friend of a friend) and discussing tattoos by the weekend.
What's more is I'll probably know the bartender, cab driver, gas station clerk, pizza delivery person, and police officer who they will encounter before the night is over. And they will all discover that knowing Heidi Higdon is something they have in common. And I'll receive 9 separate phone calls about who saw who, how they are still smokin' hot, and that I should call them sometime.
He's apparently never going to go away, so I'm sure my mom will end up teaching 11 of his 16 illegitimate children, he'll be dating my manicurist (and my 1st grade teacher, and the girl I used to babysit, and the crazy lady at the post office...), and he'll be roommates with the chef I should have picked. Of all the men I'm glad I didn't marry (and there were many), he is number 1, and yet he just keeps coming back like the lame fungus that he is. Can't he live in one of the other 22 states that he has a wife in?
Apparently, everybody really does die famous in a small town. Does anybody know when that might be?
Anywho, this was eons ago and I luckily came to my senses, found someone great, and moved to Vegas. Fast forward to this week when my friend and accidental PI Lena calls to tell me that she not only saw him, but TALKED to him. She hasn't quite mastered the whole 'be quiet, look pretty' move, but we're working on it. Now he knows that I know that he's back in town - apparently Bullhead City, Arizona is magnetized and it is physically impossible for losers to stay away for long.
If that were the end of the six degrees-esque scenario, I would be able to just let it go. But it's not. I log on to this root of all evil place we call myspace and was doing some investigating of my own. It had NOTHING to do with aforementioned Loser. I was just browsing a friend of a friend's page - when I realized that said friend of a friend apparently knows a few people in town herself - I mean, she did look like the kind of girl who gets around, but I wasn't expecting such an immediate discovery. While looking at her friends, I see my friend and two rows DIRECTLY below him, I see Loser. Perfect. The two people I want to stay as far apart from one another as possible will probably be taking turns doing body shots off the slut (err, I mean friend of a friend) and discussing tattoos by the weekend.
What's more is I'll probably know the bartender, cab driver, gas station clerk, pizza delivery person, and police officer who they will encounter before the night is over. And they will all discover that knowing Heidi Higdon is something they have in common. And I'll receive 9 separate phone calls about who saw who, how they are still smokin' hot, and that I should call them sometime.
He's apparently never going to go away, so I'm sure my mom will end up teaching 11 of his 16 illegitimate children, he'll be dating my manicurist (and my 1st grade teacher, and the girl I used to babysit, and the crazy lady at the post office...), and he'll be roommates with the chef I should have picked. Of all the men I'm glad I didn't marry (and there were many), he is number 1, and yet he just keeps coming back like the lame fungus that he is. Can't he live in one of the other 22 states that he has a wife in?
Apparently, everybody really does die famous in a small town. Does anybody know when that might be?
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