The... Economist

Four years ago I tried Match.com for the very first time.  Almost immediately, I was contacted by a handsome, blonde, Polish-Canadian I'll call Victor.  He was super smart, and in love with his profession.  He was an... Economist.  I say it like that because anytime we were in the car listening to NPR and the program was sponsored by The Economist (the newsmagazine) Victor would lean over to me and say The... ECONOMIST... in this funny,breathy, aren't-I-so cool-I'm-an-economist kind of way.  He's the only economist I've ever met, and maybe they are all like Victor.  I wouldn't know.

Victor had moved to Canada with his family when he was 16.  He went to the University of Toronto, where he triple-majored.  That's right-- triple. It took him 6 years.  He was one bright dude.  He drove a BMW and at the time this impressed me very much.  I had never dated a guy who drove a BMW.  At least, not a guy in America.  We met for the first time at a trendy restaurant in Winter Park, and he was wearing an orange gingham shirt.  I had written in my profile that orange was my favorite color, and described the shade of orange as well.  This shirt was that color.  He knew it.  We ate and talked and later took in a movie.  I thought he was interesting and nice.  If only I knew how interesting Victor would turn out to be.

He dressed neat, had a VERY neat apartment (clue #1) and had very strong ideas about what he would and wouldn't do. Cleaning one's plate was a must, even when he ordered far more food than I could possibly eat in one sitting.  He didn't like the idea of me exercising, because he liked my weight exactly as it was.  A woman should look like a woman, darling, he would admonish as he'd squeeze my fleshy forearms, and have a womanly form.  (Which meant, I like you a little bit fat, darling!)  Victor was a seriously good-looking guy... I didn't like feeling like the ugly half of the relationship when we went out.  But maybe that was my issue.  Still, something felt off.

We dated for about four months.  He was often away on business in Mexico, Poland, and other interesting places.  He always sent me pictures on the computer (Victor was very adept at setting up his camera to take his picture in public places.) and brought me gifts when he returned.  I had never had anyone give me as many gifts as Victor did.  He would even give me gifts for my parents!  I rationalized that gift-giving was the way he showed affection... that he didn't really know how to open himself emotionally.  On the surface he seemed like the perfect guy.  But underneath was a whole set of issues.  Issues that I kept trying to rationalize because he was so smart, so cute, and made a great living.   Dumb, dumb, dumb.  But you know, you live, you learn.  Here are a couple of examples, but I assure you, there are plenty more! 

The Pole who couldn't eat sausage.  At least once a year I have a Paella Night where I invite a bunch of friends over and we feast on paella, sangria, and bread.  Paella Night is one of my favorite nights of the year.  I make a Valencia-style paella, with seafood, chicken, and chorizo sausage.  It's wrong to brag about oneself, but my paella is really good.  I wanted Victor to meet my friends, and we had been dating for about two months, and so I had a Paella Night.  I knew that Victor didn't eat sausage, but I figured he could pick it out.  I enjoyed every bit of my dish.  When the evening was over, he kissed me on the cheek and left.  He didn't kiss me on the lips again until December.  (Granted, he was away for part of this time but still... December!!!)  He was so totally grossed out about the fact that I had ingested horrible, nasty saucisse that he couldn't possibly bring himself to meet my lips.

Did I mention this guy was born in Poland, home of kielbasa?!  

In December I told him that if he found me that repulsive, that I thought we should go our separate ways.  I don't remember how, but he convinced me to stay.  We went to the Mall at Millenia to do a bit of Christmas shopping.  It was his favorite mall.  I think it was my first time going there.  He showed me all the neat little features of the mall.  We walked past Tiffany's and I made some kind of remark about it and he told me, Go in there and pick something out for Christmas.  I refused, and was in a world of confusion.  How could someone who hadn't kissed me for six weeks want to buy me an expensive present?  Again, buying gifts was the way he expressed affection.  All I wanted was an evening on the couch, cuddling.  Okay, maybe a bit of canoodling.  He let me drive his car over to my parents that day, because I had told him that I needed him to let me in the driver's seat sometimes.  I wasn't talking about the car, but it was a nice gesture.  He was trying, in his way.

The Horrible Hoodie.  I love the Life is Good brand.  I love the cute little sayings, I love the pictures, I just love everything about it.  Victor did too!  So, in light of the fact that he was going to Toronto for Christmas, I bought him a nice, warm, Life is Good hoodie in faded blue.  It was a lot of money for me to spend on one gift with my mortgage and my public school teacher's salary, but I knew that he was going to give me something expensive, and it is so very hard to buy something for someone when they can obviously buy it for themselves and get something 10 times nicer.  So, I bought the hoodie, a Life is Good thermal mug, and some Origins Stress Relief lotion for Victor.  Because the dude needed to relax!  I'll spare you the details but Victor told me to keep the hoodie (I took it back and got one in a larger size for my father, who LOVED it), found the thermal mug impractical, and used the stress relief lotion under his nose to stay awake when he was tired.

Not what I had in mind.

The next day he flew to Toronto to visit family, and I set about to enjoy the holidays.  One day in early January Victor and I were online at the same time.  He was still in Canada.  I told him that I had met my friend Dee for lunch that day at The Columbia in Celebration, where I had-- gasp!-- mussels and chorizo.  His reply?  Gross.  I told him, "Hey, you eat bear claws, I eat sausage.  We don't have to like eating the same things to enjoy each other's company."  I tend not to eat a lot of sweets because I don't want to look like I eat a lot of sweets.  Victor had a sweet tooth the size of Texas and often had bear claws to compliment his meal when we'd go to Panera.  (He also exercised religiously with his Bowflex and the pool at his complex.)  We went back and forth a bit and I knew I was egging him on but I was so tired of living by Victor's... victorisms.  So, we decided to take a break.  I was relieved.  I had already stayed on this subway ride a few stops too many, and felt so far from the Jen that everyone knew and loved.  I had become Jen the Meek Walker on Eggshells.

A couple of weeks later Victor convinced me to meet him at Barnes and Noble, in the Starbucks area of course, so that we could talk.  He wasn't prepared to let me go without a fight.  Well, (and I hate writing this but I promised myself if I was going to write a blog it would be my truth) Victor had me in tears in the middle of blooming Barnes and Noble, berating me about my ridiculous Christmas gift selections for him.  Darling, it was not necessary to buy me anything, and then you bought this sloppy sweatshirt?  It was not my fashion, and you knew that!  (I think Victor dresses a bit like Eurotrash... he definitely has a European taste in clothes, including shirts with strange pockets.)  Still, there I was, in Barnes and Noble, getting yelled at in hushed tones, tears coursing down my face.  I told him I was ready to go.  As we walked out, he told me he wanted to continue seeing me, but he was about to take a big certification test and he would need to study, and of course because of the sausage he couldn't kiss me, and oh yeah, he would be leaving town for a couple of weeks on business.

I looked at him incredulously, and stated, "I need to get this straight.  You want to see me, but you won't kiss me, and you are going out of town, and when you are in town you won't have time for me?"  He nodded, totally serious.  I'm thinking, am I really here?  "That doesn't work for me."

I got in my car and went home.  It is very seductive to stay in a relationship where someone buys you gifts, takes you to fancy restaurants, and drives you around in an expensive car.  But at the end of the day, if you feel empty inside, or worse, it is so not worth it.  I lost a bit of myself during that period of my life, but my friends rallied around me and let me know that he was the one with issues.  Boy, did he have issues.  He resurfaces every so often to take me to dinner, and tells me how special I am and attempts to slither his way back into my heart.  But I remain strong.  "We had some nice times, but we were not good together, Victor.  I can't go back."  And off he flies to the next city in need of an economist.


Before I wrote this post I googled Victor, and looked at the images.  There was a picture of Victor and another girl on a hot air balloon.  He had his arm around her the way he had his arm around me in all of our pictures together.  I could have been her.  I am so glad I'm not.