Willing is our ongoing series about dating at this stage. It’s so complicated. We’ve got emotional scar tissue from umpteen years of living and loving and loss. We’ve got nerves. We’ve got the practical obstacles of baked-in structures and demands, familial and geographic. Too often, we just can’t break through. But then sometimes we do.
Diane is a 60-something-year old retired marketing analyst living with her husband in the northeast suburbs.
After the breakup of our 6-year live-in relationship, neither my ex nor I could afford the apartment we shared in the up-and-coming New Jersey neighborhood we loved so much. As if breakups weren't hard enough, we were both suddenly saddled with the daunting task of finding a new place to live. To add to our angst, we had to find a way to amicably divide between us the six years of furniture, kitchen items, books, bedding, and bric-a-brac that made our house a home.
My ex had an easier time finding a place, as he earned more money than I did. Just as I was beginning to lose hope, a couple of friends from the neighborhood knew of an apartment in their adjacent sister building. It was within my budget, kept me in the neighborhood, and was just a short commute to my job in Manhattan. Though the breakup was difficult, the move was easy and decorating a new place was a good distraction for me. As I was unpacking some things one night, I discovered that my ex’s copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War had somehow found its way into my box of books. I opened the book, gave it a good sniff (doesn’t everyone do that?) and, in my vulnerable state, began leafing through the pages when a particular sentence caught my eye: “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.” The timing was perfect.
To help me through the breakup, my friends next door would often have me over for dinner. That’s how I met Rick. Tall and blonde with model-like good looks of which he was very much aware, Rick had just moved down the hall from my friends. He was excessively flirty but that didn’t bother me; his lavish attention was the perfect bandaid for my breakup and a boost to my self esteem. We began dating so quickly that my friends would jokingly refer to him as “Quick Rick.” In what seemed like no time at all, we became exclusive and were together almost constantly; we cooked together, jogged together, he stayed over my place most nights, and we took long rides in his prized possession– a cherry red 1967 Mustang convertible. For a woman who recently had her heart broken, I seemed to be bouncing back.
One warm summer night a couple of months into our relationship, we visited a cozy little Italian restaurant in our neighborhood. By ‘cozy,’ I mean tiny. So tiny, in fact, that the tables were situated no more than 8 inches apart. In the midst of enjoying our meals, I noticed Rick beaming as he focussed on something over my shoulder. He could not break his gaze and I continued to watch his eyes as they followed two women who approached the table next to ours. One of the women – who was blessed with the body of Pamela Anderson circa 1995 – wore a very short sundress with a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination. As she poured herself into her seat, Rick was eye-level with her breasts. Had he sneezed, they would have hit him in the head.
With tables so close together, it was impossible not to exchange a few pleasantries. Within moments, Rick’s pleasantries turned to aggressive flirtation and I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Suddenly, I had to pee. I ignored the urge, certain that if I left for the bathroom Rick and “The Rack” would elope before I returned. I held out as long as I could but lost the battle and excused myself to the bathroom. When I returned, I approached our table to witness Rick entering something into his phone. “Quick Rick” was taking her number! Not wanting to give Rick the satisfaction (and not wanting to make a scene in front of “The Rack”) I implemented Sun Tzu’s next lesson, “He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight,” and patiently finished my meal.
Walking home that night I was enraged, furious with Rick for his indiscretion. Either he didn’t pick up on my vibe or didn’t care but, either way, I knew this relationship was nearing its expiration date. When we approached my building Rick walked up my stoop, assuming he was staying over as usual. Instead, I told him I needed to make it an early night and sent him home.
The next morning, Rick texted, asking to meet up after work for a run. I agreed, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to speak my mind and end the relationship. Rick arrived, wearing a tank top that exposed scratch marks trailing across his shoulders and down his back! I took a breath and asked myself, “What would Sun Tzu do?” The answer: “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.” I pretended not to notice.
“What do you feel like having for dinner?” he asked as we were winding down our run.
“I have plans with a friend. Let’s talk tomorrow.”
“Sure thing,” he said, and kissed me on the forehead, turned, and jogged away.
Later that night, as I was walking home from dinner, Rick and the cherry red Mustang brazenly cruised right past me– top down. With “The Rack” in the passenger seat, her hair blowing in the wind and boobs bouncing, she and Rick were singing along to the car radio. I dragged myself home, only to be further humiliated by the sight of the Mustang already parked directly in front of my stoop. Only Quick Rick would have the balls to be the only car parked in a “no parking” zone. I did my best to keep a level head and reminded myself that it was only a matter of time before the allure of “The Rack” would fade, and “Quick Rick” would be on to someone else.
Inside my apartment, I went to the window and just stared out at the car. As I felt the rage well up inside me, I remembered the song “Before He Cheats”:
“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive,
Carved my name into his leather seats.
Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights,
Slashed a hole in all four tires,
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats…”
As I pondered which of the lyrics I would put into action: I spotted Sun Tzu on my coffee table and opened it to a page that began: “The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim.” I closed the book and took another look at the car outside my window when I suddenly noticed it was parked in front of a fire hydrant! And as I stood there and made a conscious decision to do nothing, a massive tow truck barreled up my street and, with “the well-timed swoop of a falcon,” hitched itself to the Mustang and drove away, leaving “Quick Rick” and “The Rack” in the rear view mirror.
“The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” - Sun Tzu
The Crush Letter
The Crush Letter is a weekly newsletter from Dish Stanley curating articles & intelligence on everything love & connection - friendship, romance, self-love, sex. If you’d like to take a look at some of our best stories go to Read Us. Want the Dish?
