Saturday, September 29, 2012

Return and Demise of Mr. (un) Fab

Oh my goodness, you guys!  Do you remember Mr. Fabulous?  From 2009?  Well, he started off as Mr. Fabulous...but very quickly turned into Mr. (un) Fabulous.  If you really feel like reading all the trials and tribs of Mr. (un) Fab, it all started April 2009 and ended roughly around August 2009, on ther right hand side, about half way down.

Okay, let me quickly remind you...

He had two boys from two different women (hey, I'm not one to judge but there was a lot of baby momma drama from his ex-wife and his ex-girlfriend).  He was fighting for full custody of the younger one because his ex-gf was denying him any visitation at all.

He was a momma's boy.  There were several occasions that he had to *cancel* on me because his momma had stopped by or he had to do something with/for his momma.

He had a story for everything.  Like everything.  And the stories were wildly entertaining and highly improbable.  Like the story about when he was in a motor cycle accident and he was flung 80 feet in the air, landed on his feet and was totally fine (he told it waaaaaay better than I, because he was a *story* teller).

He always had somewhere to be...other than with me.  And it was always, again, a crazy story that was so impossible to believe you had to question if maybe it was true, because who has the imagination to think up something that insane.  For instance, the time he stood me up because his neighbour was stabbed by his crazy ex-wife and Mr. (un) Fab was chosen to take the children for the night, while their father was in the hospital and the wife was in jail.  Seriously, I have so many questions about just totally puzzles me.  He texted me from the back of a police cruiser at least twice.  At that point, you have to question whether he's a liar - who you don't want to be with - or if he really does attract that kind of *bad luck* - which is also not so appealing.

He had two cell phones.  His e-mail address was not his first and last name, but something completely obscure that would be impossible to pin on him.  His profile on POF (yes, I met him online) had no pictures until contact was made, and even then it was a little blurry. 

I ran into him in Costco.  And when I say I ran into him, I mean, I saw him and then ducked around a rack of women's jackets so he wouldn't see me (but I could still see him).  He was with a woman and two little girls.  They both looked grumpy.  Who were those children?  Where did he get them?  Hmmmmm...

Anywho....I hadn't spoken to him in years, because I flat out told him I thought he was married.  His behavior was not that of a single man looking for a woman to be his wife.  It was of a married man looking for a mistress.  I mean, who in their right mind would choose to hang out with their mother when they can hang out with their girlfriend? 

Recently, like about 6 months or so ago, when I went back on POF, he found my profile and we talked briefly.  He had won joint custody of his son, his mother was still very much in his life, and he very conveniently was working around the corner from where I work now.  AND his company got the contract to put the elevators in our new building.  Can you stay stalker?  Right?

Last week, Mr. (un) Fab came on strong.  Email after email...I regret letting you go, I miss you, would love to meet for lunch, blah, blah, blah.  Again, I was very blunt, yet as polite as possible.  I didn't have time to waste with someone who saw my views on religion as *juvenile* and who always had somewhere else to be.  I wished him luck in his search and expected that to be the end of it. 

But no, it's not the end. 

He sends this uber long email about how he is looking for a woman who has a strong faith and is searching for a church for the security it brings.  He even totally changed his way of talking, using words and phrases like 'be blessed' and crap like that. 

Then the next day, he sends another email saying he just can't let it go and could I please, please make time for him and a lunch date.  If for no other reason than *friendship*.  But, geez...nothing like beating a dead horse, ya know?


I gotta be honest with you, if this were any other guy, I'd probably be sitting at the table right now waiting for him.  I mean, here is this guy who I know I have chemistry with, has two (?) adorable children and is a great parent to them.  He has a good job, strong family ties and says he is looking for a great church.  He seems to have everything I've ever wanted or asked for.  So why am I not super excited and planning my centerpieces for the wedding reception?

Because I have this really bad feeling.

If there is one thing I have learned recently, it's to follow my gut, my intuition.  If I have any misgivings about this guy, it's for a good reason and I should just let it go.  What may be perceived as his interest in me as a person, is most likely just the thrill of the chase.  We've been here before.  We've done this already.  It didn't work.  I wonder if it's just a game for him to see how far he can go before he gets caught.


What if my intuition is totally off and this guy is supposed to be my husband and I'm reading all the signs wrong?  What if he means all the things he says?  What if?  What if?  What if?  The thought has crossed my mind, but truthfully, I feel completely okay with walking away from him.  I don't feel as though I'm missing anything or walking away from the man I'm meant to be with.  I think if he were the husband meant for me, I would feel a little different.

My intuition wouldn't be sounding off alarms.  I'd be eager to return his emails and meet for lunch. 


Am I right?


Seriously?  A little help here, folks...


  1. oh no.... you are *SO* right. he is VERY unfabulous & not at all intended to be your husband!!!!!!! ~Lisa

    1. Thank you for validating what my intuition was SCREAMING at me :) No lunch with Mr. (un) Fab in my future :)

  2. Red flags are there for a reason. Oh, you know who I am.

    1. Yes, yes they are. And no, no I don't...and thank you because now it's going to drive me crazy.