It happened again! I went out with a wonderful man, had a stupendous time, and then, for no apparent reason—I never heard from him again.
Several years ago, I was walking past the bar in a trendy neighborhood restaurant, when handsome grey-haired man, sitting at the bar with his buddy, turned his head to look at me and quipped, “Hey, young lady, don’t I know you?”
My immediate knee-jerk reaction was, this cute man is hitting on me. But my ears said, “I know this raspy voice from somewhere. I don’t recognize the guy—but the voice?"
"Omigosh,” I shrilled . . . "Bernie! . . . It’s you!” and I threw my arms around his shoulders and I hugged him.
Bernie (not his real name) was my previous boss; a man I adored and respected for his delightful personality and exceptional business skills. I had not seen Bernie in 20 years. I barely recognized him under his silver mane, new eyeglasses and darling 50ish-year-old face. More handsome than ever, he was divorced after 26 years of marriage.
Bernie called me several weeks later and he invited me to his home for dinner. I was thrilled and I accepted.
I arrived at his beautiful home. He was talkative, entertaining and courteous. We cooked, we laughed at old times and we drank a couple of bottles of wine. After dinner, he put on the old tunes and I found myself spontaneously dancing with him in the middle of his living room floor. And then, in the midst of a bee-bop move, Bernie kissed me (I didn’t see that coming), and he kissed me and kissed me.
An hour later, I thanked Bernie for a lovely evening, I gave him a call-me-later goodnight kiss—and I went home.
Bernie never called again.
Shut the front door!
“What happened?” I asked myself. Did I drink too much and act stupid? Was I not pretty enough, not smart enough or too old? Did I bruise his male ego when I politely turned down his offer to stay for a serious make-out session? Or was he embarrassed because my sophisticated ex-boss got smashed and turned into a lecherous old man?
No, I looked hot in my tight black jeans, starched white shirt, vest and long pearls. I was affable, conversational, engaging and I acted like a perfect lady. I am certain Bernie was totally into me.
So, what the crap happened?
Two months after my first and only date with Bernie, he called me. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” he began. “My Dad got sick. My kids were here for the holidays. I had problems at work . . . blah, blah, blah."
Here’s what I think: Bernie went back to his old girlfriend.
Bernie had casually mentioned that he had recently quit dating “some girl.” I believe, with the Christmas holidays in front of him, the lure of a familiar, intimate female companion pulled him back into a failing relationship. In other words "tis the season to be jolly"—it was easy!
Listen! If a man doesn’t call you back (and you’re sure you’ve done nothing wrong) don’t waste your time trying to figure him out or what happened. The reality is: there’s probably something wrong with him—and not you!
Now get back out there, because men are like buses; another one will be along in 5 minutes.
Learn the warning signs of men who are emotionally unavailable, self-absorbed, non-committal or abusive in the best-selling self-help book:
Never Date a Dead Animal:
The Red Flags of Loser, Abusers, Cheaters and Con-Artists
By Nancy Nichols
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