I didn’t meet any hot professors last week due in no small part to the fact I didn’t meet any professors.
It turns out I was a bit early for school. A week early to be exact. I did however meet someone new on an online dating site.
He looked good; his profile looked good and he seemed to be interested. He wanted to talk after almost no messaging or the standard email-get-to- know-you-routine. Nothing else had been panning out so I told myself why not. He was kind on the phone, laughed at my jokes, was sarcastic himself and I mentally started checking off boxes. Then I had to ask about one of his interest he had checked off on his profile: Hunting. I had asked via email but he ignored it. So I very bluntly asked, “Are you a Bambi killer?”
He laughed and explained that it needed further explanation than he cared to type. I listened carefully as he informed me of the abundance of deer populations daring to thrive in the shrinking wild spaces but not on designated reserves. (Never mind the need for reserves is human population induced.) I listed less carefully to the ramble about the harm they cause. When he concluded I replied, “So yes. You are a Bambi killer.” He concurred and asked if that was a problem to which I honestly answered, “I don’t know. It’s never come up.”
I don’t like the idea of any wild animal hunted but had he said alligator, known for eating innocent dogs, I probably could have rolled with it. In fact I even suggested it. Then I tried to take into account the whole person remembering that I like to date someone who has their own life and interests. I know very little of hunting and would definitely qualify as a separate hobby.
A family friend Sue, who is still referred to as the woman who half raised me, is married to a Bambi killer. All around he is the greatest, funniest, stand up guy and she is very happy. Then again, I think she eats the meat, too, so that’s not quite an even comparison. While I know hunting exists and at times is necessary, in my head it’s just for alligators. Anything else brings me to tears.
Then I thought about kids. He probably wants to teach his future boys to hunt. Or worse yet his future girls. I’m too lazy to try and change someone. Nor do I have any desire to make someone something they are not. I truly don’t want kids now but my rationale is simple. I’m too busy for casual dating and serious dating makes me think marriage/family potential. I’m too old to waste another year or two to start over again. Not to mention the clearly defined “fun-friend” or “potential-mate” grooves nicely with my all or nothing thinking. In my head that keeps things simple.
I haven’t heard from him again which was almost a relief. Perhaps I made too many Bambi references. Or maybe it’s the writing. I bring up my column early on if I am interested. I’d rather scare them off at the start before I clear out an evening for someone. And that’s as far as I analyze. No self-doubt or “what’s wrong with me”. Those expired in my early twenties. Just as the lizard taunting me in my house was about to expire.
Damn lizard; the third in two weeks in my house. I had my broom still in the living room from the last one but that was step two. I ran into my kitchen and grabbed my immobilizer; Lysol with Bleach. One of Pops favorites he stocked me up on last visit. As I chased the lizard around my living room and dining room, up heaving ever piece of furniture, alternating broom thrusts with high pitched squeals, I wondered again, why couldn’t he just hunt alligators?
But, this week, while he be chasing deer, I’ll be chasing laughs. I have recently been perusing the meet up site for singles events my area and I found one of interest for a comedy club later this week. Here’s hoping some good ol’ belly laughs will remove the thoughts of Bambi in someone’s belly.
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Kimmie is a graphic designer, full time dog-mom and aspiring aerialist. You can keep up with her craziness on her blog life-withdogs.blogspot.com and follow her on twitter at @lifewithdoggies.