Losing The Game of Life

Right now I feel like I'm in a foreign country and don't know the language.  I have no idea what I'm doing and seem to either continue to do things horribly wrong or exceptionally right, depending on how you look at the situation.  I need a tour guide, or at the very least, a map.  Whoever said dating is fun either never did it or married the first person they dated, because I have yet to discover the fun in all this silliness.

So, I have been envisioning this whole process like I'm in the middle of The Game of Life.  You remember, the one where you have the little car and drive from life stage to life stage, making decisions that impact your options later.  I actually hated the game as a kid, so I wonder if this was major foreshadowing on God's part.  I remember learning early that adding children to your little car seriously depleted your expendible income...funny how well that relates to real life!  In my game though, instead of life stages, I'm moving through types of men.  If you look back over the course of the last few months, I've been trudging along at a pretty good speed, but it seems that I get hit with the same type of guy all at the same time.

I started out with my little car and my lonely little pink peg in the driver's seat.  I revved up my engine, threw it in high gear and headed out of the starting gate.  First stop, Boring Town.  Snooze.  I spent weeks in Boring Town, meeting boring men with boring lives and even more boring conversation.  They were so boring, in fact, that they actually made up details to seem more interesting and even presented photos of themselves that weren't themselves...just in an attempt to fool me into thinking they weren't citizens of Boring Town.  I high tailed it on out of there pretty quickly.

Next on my path was Non-commit-ville.  Non-commit-ville was full of gentlemen who were happy to correspond in any form but in-person and were usually pretty good at it.  They'd send me beautiful, well-written emails or texts, but wouldn't make any attempts to coordinate any kind of face-to-face interaction and when almost literally forced into the situation by me, sucked it up, dealt with it for the hour or so that it lasted and then ran as quickly as possible back to their safe little computer nook.  When I took the screaming and kicking bull by the horns and made ill-fated attempts to get them to man up, they simply slid away into the shadows of cyberspace, never to be heard from again.  Non-commit-ville was a destination on my trip that I didn't see coming, but seems to really circumvent most of Singledom.  I keep stumbling back into Non-commit-ville every now and then, so either their residents are getting out and escaping into other towns or I keep ending up back where I started.  Got to get a better map.

After I floored it and left nothing but rubber in Non-commit-ville, I ended up in Skanktown.  Skanktown is exclusively inhabited by men who live by the Laws of Inappropriateness.  Most of its residents are in the rebound phase and looking for "a girl who likes to have fun."  But, the problem is, Skanktown residents don't carry an ID.  You don't realize that they are from Skanktown until they hit you with some insight they picked up from the Laws of Inappropriateness.  When you ask them if they're from Skanktown, they insist that they aren't, they're just really attracted to you and you brought this inappropriate behavior out in them or they reiterate to you how upfront they were with their desire to "just have some fun."  "Fun" being the appropriate word for inappropriateness.  I'm too old for Skanktown.  I'm pretty sure the age limit is 25.  They should have it posted like a speed limit sign as you enter the city limits.  I'm stuck here though.  For some reason, I can't turn my innocent little car in any direction but right in the middle of town.  Granted, I've steered myself into the center of town a few times, even stuck around for a few days to see if I fit in.  Being new to the area with that "I'm completely lost" look plastered on my face, I wish the men of Skanktown had at least shown me around a bit before they tried to take over the driver's seat of my car, but that might just be a cultural thing. So, I've rolled up my windows and locked the doors, sitting here watching all the filth build up on the outside of my car.  Maybe it will rain soon.

Somewhere on the horizon, I can see the destination I'd like to get to.  Might not be my final stop on the trip, but it would be a nice change of scenery.  I'd like to make my way to Normal Guy City.  Normal Guy City is made up of a lot of Average Joes.  I like Average Joes, I've decided.  Guys who are into sports but will at least know how to fake it when I want them to get excited about something like a painting class I took.  Normal Guys don't have to carry an ID because you'd never have to ask for it, but will happily tell you where they hail from.  Normal Guys want to know you as a person, but will still pepper in some comfortable and appropriate flirtation when the moment is right.  They want to engage you in conversation that wouldn't have 90% of it bleeped out on primetime television.  Normal Guys are just as fun at a baseball game as they are dressed up at a candlelight dinner and make you feel as comfortable as if you've known them your whole life.  They send you flowers or texts to say hello, but never in a creepy, stalker kind of way.  They are perfect in their normalcy.  I can't wait to get there...I just have no idea how long the highway is out of Skanktown and how many exits there are until Normal Guy City.  I'm pretty sure that the exit out of Skanktown probably has some bridge with a slimy little troll that won't let you pass unless you can prove that you aren't a native. But, once I get to Normal Guy City, I intend to stay.