Is that a Sty in your Eye?
by Karen Rodriguez
I was 24 years old and divorced living in a house with six other flight attendants, with only a laptop and a suitcase as my real processions. However, that wasn’t the worst part. I was now at the airport being picked up by my first date via Myspace, which is a current site being used by people who were too broke to pay any fees at a real dating site. Surely, this was a recipe for disaster, but having found love and marriage so quickly at a young age once makes me an eternal romantic.
His name was Peter. He was 26 years old, divorced, with a 5 year old daughter, and working at a hardware store. Amazing the potential suitors you can find by just typing in your zip code while including a twenty mile radius. Even if we did not have movies, passions, and interests in common, we had divorce, starting over and heartache to dwell on. Soon after, what followed were the awkward first phone calls. After the second week of phone conversations he let me know he told his daughter that he had a new girlfriend. This should have set off an alarm in my head. Instead I was flattered. A flight attendant’s life could at times be very lonely, and a friendly voice during a layover in Alaska or Kuwait was better than watching an episode of the Golden Girls.
A needed ride from the airport presented an opportunity for a meeting and a “date”. I was excited! A first date represents opportunity, a fresh start, and perhaps an end to a tragic spinsterhood. During the flight home to Atlanta, I risked death in the lavatories used by soldiers who came all the way from the Middle East, to redo my make up every half hour. After landing I made my walk down the concourse in my heels and dress which I tried not to wrinkle during a 9 hour flight.
We were meeting at the food court. I was so nervous I could hear my heart pounding against my chest. I looked around and then I saw him. I was frozen. He was short, very short. I was 5’7″ he was much shorter. He was pale and wearing a sweatshirt with corduroy pants. I thought about running away. How easy it would be. Then I realized I had no ride home. As I tried to decide he found me and made his way to me.
After the awkward greeting and the obvious “wow, you’re so tall” comment, he gave me the coffee he bought for me. It was a sweet gesture. Too bad I had not told him I was lactose intolerant. Coffee would do a number on my stomach, especially after eating airplane food for three weeks .Still I took, drank, smiled, and a little piece of me died on the inside. That’s when I noticed. A giant Sty in his left eye. I was embarrassed to be caught looking at it so I figured better to ignore it.
During the ride to lunch I kept thinking about the Sty. How does one get one? Why did he not cancel the date? Does he know he has it? I tried to take my mind off it. Peter took me to the finest establishment for lunch. Strike that, he took me to the Hard Rock Cafe. Who does that? Of all the places to go in an awesome city like Atlanta, why would Hard Rock Café seem like the most romantic, best, get-to-know-you-kind of place?
After ordering lunch the coffee kicked in. I excused myself and headed to the music memorabilia adorned bathroom. I was there for probably 30 minutes, not kidding. At that point I made calls to various girlfriends for table re-entry ideas. I had left my purse at the table so I had to go back. I figured a sty in the eye canceled out a coffee run attack. Of course he asked where I was and I lied and said I looked around at all the memorabilia hung all over the restaurant.
After the awkward lunch, he took me to another part of town to walk around. This is when he reached for my hand. We were walking the streets and holding hands. It felt so strange to do that with someone other than my ex-husband. I couldn’t help but think how wrong it felt. Peter sensed my discomfort and later admitted feeling the same way. After our mindless chit-chat I could no longer take it. I told Peter I had a flight back out that same night. It was the perfect excuse, yet I could tell he deep down knew it was a lie. I felt terrible for lying. I also felt terrible for wondering if his sty germs were contagious and there I was holding his germ infested hand.
As he dropped me off and carried my bags to the door, I thought about what a nice guy he was. He just was not the right guy for me at the moment. It was not because of his sty, the fact he worked at a hardware store, or that he only came up to my shoulders. It was for the reason we both knew it did not feel right. Perhaps it was too soon from our divorces or we were two puzzle pieces that did not fit.
After the experience, we talked as friends here and there never saying why we did not go on another date. When I took him off my friends list on My Space, he stopped calling. Even though it was a horrible blind first date, Peter came into my life, at the time he did, for a reason. I realized I needed to slow down, be ok on my own and laugh at the situations that make me cringe.
I do remember the last thing Peter said to me the day he dropped me off. “Man, can you believe this Sty in my Eye? I saw it this morning, did you notice it?” I just laughed and said,” No, I didn’t even know it was there”. Then I added, “I am lactose intolerant and the coffee you got me gave me the runs, did you notice that?” Sometimes the best asset in online dating is a sense of humor and no $10 overpriced restaurant hamburger can beat that!
About the author: To escape her bad first marriage, Karen became an international flight attendant. After a long period of bad dating, she met her future husband on a bus in Germany. Together they traveled the world until she got pregnant. Now Karen lives in Atlanta with her new husband and ten month baby girl. She has returned to school for Web Design and developing her line of non-toxic cleaning supplies.
Popularity: 5% [?]
January 16th, 2008 at 2:20 pm
It’s a humorous story alright but what struck me is how the writer each step of the way denied plain honesty.
Thankfully there was a happy ending. I posted one recently which was not so rosy.
January 17th, 2008 at 1:05 am
Oh my gosh - that sounds so unbelievably awkward! Its always funny that after all the physical issues (sty and all) didn’t matter, your personalities just didn’t match. If that spark is there, then nothing else matters. There is a site that you all might find interesting. Its called personalityZone.com and you can take a free personality test and find out so much about yourself. I’m a Guardian and found it to be way more accurate than horoscopes or anything like that. Maybe before you meet your next blind online date, you could both take the quiz at personalityZone.com to see if your a match. Perhaps it could have saved you that 30 minutes in the hard rock bathroom
January 17th, 2008 at 5:24 pm
I was a flight attendant for many years and a couple of girls I have flown with wrote a great fairy tale, Princess Bubble. If you really want to get angry read what this reviewer wrote about their book and about flight attendants!
Fairy Tales for Single Chicks
By Bernard Chapin on Jan 17, 08
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Is some publicity better than no publicity? The cliché’s truth is probably situational, but a belief in its validity must have been what spurred one of the authoresses of Princess Bubble to contact me regarding a review for their work as, frankly, the likelihood that I would appreciate its themes was not great.
Princess Bubble is a book written as a means to offer “girls of all ages [an] updated version of the traditional fairy tale. No longer a ‘Damsel in Distress,’ this princess travels the world, helps others, and finds ‘happily ever after’ even before she finds her Prince!”
Thus, what we have in a thin tome is a fantasy wherein women are not as they actually are but as the authors, along with legions of feminists, would like them to be. It is child lit created for the purposes of indoctrination. It seeks to convince girls that they can have it all without marriage.
Pardon me for my lack of outrage regarding this subject, but, at this point, I am well-acquainted with their ploys. Slipping dogma into entertainment and educational materials is simply what our social engineers do. Their habits surprise me as much as snow in January.
The promotional description for Princess Bubble triggered laughter rather than ire: “With wisdom gleaned from their careers as single, globe-trotting flight attendants, first-time authors Susan Johnston and Kimberly Webb have crafted a modern-day book that celebrates singleness.”
Oh my, forty years ago who would have guessed that our nation would descend to the nadir in which stewardesses are regarded as oracles? Indeed, never in my life have I seen “wisdom” and “flight attendants” appear alongside each other in a sentence, and there was a good reason for that. Neither mental ability nor crystallized knowledge has anything to do with their training, lifestyle or daily affairs.
Based on the reader’s personal experience, would you not agree that Paul Westerberg had it more right than wrong when he sang, “You ain’t nothing but a waitress in the sky.” I would not advise even asking a stewardess about the dynamics of flight let alone asking one about human relationships. What next? Perhaps A Stripper’s Guide to Physics is already, as I write, emblazoned upon a publishing storyboard somewhere in Manhattan.
Of course the book really cannot do much harm because it only will be appreciated by adult females as opposed to children. A cursory reference to “loving God” also negates the possibility of it ever appearing in the public schools—assuming that curriculum specialists take the time to examine it before ordering it which may well be a wild assumption on my part.
The story itself is a yawner. The protagonist is confused and devoid of strategy in regards to dating. This is revealing and should make its message resonate with a plethora of single women. Princess Bubble will be a big favorite among mindless extroverts in general. Their expenditures fuel our consumer sector and their contamination of the public square with hyper-verbal utterances has made the contemplative life in America as rare as a encountering a De Lorean on the highway.
Our heroine dreams of gourmet dinners, perpetual socializing, and constant entertainment, but there appears to be nothing legitimate or serious about her. She graduates from college and becomes a flight attendant (which strikes me as improper sequencing), and then watches all of her friends get married. Inspired by their example, she sets out to find a prince, and goes out with “many different princes and thoroughly enjoyed them all!”
I bet she did! Such a communal approach to dating is prevalent nowadays. Here again, the princess appears to be a single female everywoman. Yet today’s every-women are decidedly less popular with men than their predecessors were. Modern females with a pronounced, and easily observed, “taste for the bucks”(1) are known to make terrible wives. How could it be any other way? Past behavior is the best predictor of future performance. A lot of what’s out there just is not suitable for the establishment of a long-term pair bond. That’s a major factor behind some men undertaking what they call a “marriage strike.” Unfortunately, our gynocentric society prevents the true views of men from being acknowledged and known.(2)
Getting back to young Bubble, she eventually decides to give up her quest after concluding that no man is capable of bringing her everlasting happiness. Her assumption is highly accurate, but evaluating significant others on the basis of whether they can produce everlasting joy is a bogus criterion for relationship selection. Such an expectation is both fantastic and completely unreasonable. Thinking that somebody somewhere—even Vida Guerra!—is capable of bringing you eternal fulfillment is absurd. People just aren’t like that. Some of us may be wands but none of us have magical properties.
Besides, in my view, happiness is largely dependent on one’s having an internal and an external life. This simply is not possible for most extroverts. They spend their waking hours manufacturing conversation and stimuli in the hopes of avoiding boredom, yet this habit purges every worthwhile thought and idea from their craniums. It renders them uninteresting and directionless. They personify the phrase “if you’re bored then you’re probably boring.” And they usually are.
With dating, the healthiest test—I mean, assuming one actually wants to be happy which is not always a given—is to assess the potential worth of another within the context of, “Does this person, on aggregate, enhance and improve my life?” This is a very sensible approach but one that clashes melodramatically with the aim of “having it all.” Yet the last thing an interpersonal test should ever do is attempt to ferret out perfection. Nobody’s perfect…even single women in America [who would have guessed?].
Empowered to strange proportions, many western females have now lost the ability to discern their own fallibility and mortality. Many single women regard taking “half a loaf” as synonymous with failure. This explains why, in the words of the authors, that so many of this number face an “overwhelming sense of failure, self-doubt, and despair.” Men would feel the same way too if we too were debilitated by propaganda convincing us that life is a parlor game we were preordained to win.
Our tale ends with hubba-bubble realizing that she’s been happy all along so she has no need for a mate. A Fairy Godmother comes along to declare her victory touting, “Living happily ever after is not about finding a prince. True happiness is found by loving God, being kind to others, and being comfortable with who you are already.”
Well, there is nothing wrong with that. I agree but the rest of the book has nothing to do with such precepts. Regardless, this callow youth fails to meet these standards. She spends her days devoted to amusement rather than helping others. Furthermore, while I admit up front that the Big Guy does not consult me about these matters, I suspect He would be less than enthusiastic about a princess who squandered her gifts in the name of procuring cheap airfare and epicurean delights.
In closing, since the female self-help business has everything to do with self and nothing to do with help, allow me to offer partial assistance to single ladies desirous of a finding a man for the purposes of profound emotional connection. The grandmother approved “get it done while you’re young” approach is highly recommended and remains the best way to ensure that husbands remain faithful and devout. This means that during a woman’s youthful and estrogen soaked years they would be wise to eschew promiscuity, partying, and the allures of being a spendthrift. By doing so, they markedly increase their chances of bonding with a fellow who will take their back…forever. The new “wait until you’ve lost your physical allure before getting serious” method is but a guarantor of bitterness and despondency.
Our protagonist fades from the panorama eagerly awaiting “the many adventures ahead of her,” but, rest assured, future flights from reality will not be so fulfilling. The adulation women receive in their twenties is not what they will encounter in the future. As their reproductive value declines, princesses morph into spinsters.
A young woman has the authority of a panzer leader, but a middle aged one has the aura of a defrocked priest. No amount of fake fairy tales can ever reverse this eventuality. Those who were once as heralded as the Rolling Stones will soon find themselves greeted with the indifference extended to Spinal Tap. Perhaps the authors may wish to consider this when writing their sequel. I think Fanfare for the Beaten would make for a great title. Should they need any help with its plot, my pen stands erect and at their beck and call.
Bernard Chapin
1. A The Outlaw Josey Wales reference there.
2. I discuss society’s lies more fully in Chapter 3, “Deception as Nutrient,” of Women: Theory and Practice but if you’re short of cash check out Mike’s professionally (and exquisitely) done podcast on a subsection of the chapter concerning younger women
January 18th, 2008 at 8:04 am
..Hey.. First off: I love the service. It’s fun. I really like the writing style on this blog, and it looks awesome but.. I’m not all that fuzzed about the comments. I mean.. you don’t know much about the people participating in the discussion.
January 18th, 2008 at 8:31 am
It was seriously an awkward story but interesting nonetheless … At least she finally found happiness in then end.
January 20th, 2008 at 6:48 am
@Jollyjo: “the writer each step of the way denied plain honesty.” Well, could you honestly tell someone on a first (definitely last date) “man, you have a horrible nose, why didn’t you tell me your nose was so ugly?” Ofc not!
I dated someone for about 3 weeks, and he kissed me on the second week of dating for the first time. He had a horrible way of kissing: like his mouth was a vacuum cleaner. He sucked my mouth into his completely! I was disgusted, bleah! So it only lasted another week, cause I couldn’t just tell him on the spot: your way of kissing disgusts me.
January 20th, 2008 at 1:59 pm
Hey, just love your blog! Its a great blog! How about wining the Contest?
http://www.reallylousydates.com/contests/12/worse-valentines-day-story-contest/
You stand more than a good chance with so many dating stories!
January 20th, 2008 at 3:34 pm
Hmmm… Could height be the real issue? Was her future husband taller than her?
January 21st, 2008 at 3:52 am
Yeah he is taller than me
Even if only a couple inches, it still mattered to me. Weird I know….,
January 21st, 2008 at 11:03 am
This story teaches us, what the power of love is. Do not surrender until you find love.
I wish you all that you will find your soul mate as soon as possible…
Best Regards,
Yoni Levy.
January 21st, 2008 at 5:34 pm
This is a very interesting story, though is’s somehow hilarious but is it’s telling us not to jump into dating and to follow our feelings instead of simply getting along just because we are lonely.
January 21st, 2008 at 11:55 pm
I went out with a gal who turned out to have a really awful yeast infection, so I can totally relate to the sty thing. She also gave me crabs and herpes, which was a real drag. Glad to hear that you finally found a good guy. Congrats!
January 22nd, 2008 at 4:36 am
If pig gets a sty, is that called a pig sty?
January 23rd, 2008 at 1:38 am
What a Great Story* For some reason the Sty i guess reminded me of Marty Feldman + his Bulging Eyes* The movie he did Young Frankenstein with Gene Wilder was Hilarious!
;))
January 23rd, 2008 at 4:31 am
It is terrible how some women tell outright lies and are so cocky that they even believe their own lies and are sure the guy does no know. If you meet a guy on a date and for any reason you don’t like it, why stay and keep telling lies and more lies to him? Why not say something simple “This is not what I expected. I am sorry, we must end this date. But it is nice meeting you. Have a great day” Then you turn around and leave and go home. That would be better than all the silly lies. In 1997, I met a woman online, who sounded like an angel over the phone. She also said she was working as a book keeper. I was very excited because I needed the date. So, on the D day, I was dressed up like James Bond and went to meet her. You could not imagine my surprise when I saw my date was a 300lb dwarf!!!! As if that was not bad enough, she was wearing a red baseball cap, for goodness sake. I could understand the dwarfishness and fatness. But the red baseball cap? That was a puzzle. When I asked her why she was wearing it, she said it was to help me recognize her! I could not just tell her no, I did not want the date anymore because it took many weeks of chatting over the phone to get that date! So, I decided to go on with the date as planned. I took her to a movie, we ate and drank. Then after that I told her directly, that she was not what I expected and there will not be anymore dates, after that day. Then I took her home. That was the end. I did not see any wisdom in lying to her, being pretentious and running around the bush with her like some women do to men that they don’t like. If you have a date that was not what you expected, just get to the point and tell your date and then go home. That would be easier than being deceitful, pretentious and dishonest. Most women are guilty of all these.
January 23rd, 2008 at 5:02 pm
What a nice story! It reminded me my previous dating back to 8 years ago, met with a gal I knew from ICQ (for those who are old enough, should know this world first? instant messenger service)
Cheers
February 2nd, 2008 at 10:10 am
Great story. I’m happy to hear that you finally found a nice guy. I guess we all know how hard that is.
Regards
April 27th, 2008 at 11:56 am
That was a funny story. I could really feel the awkwardness and I have been in those shoes.
Peace
The Tampa Pirate
June 15th, 2008 at 1:00 am
Funny story! Glad to hear you had a happy ending.
December 16th, 2008 at 7:46 am
another example of a crazy girl who doesn’t know what she wants from life. oy! poor peter! he wasted all that money on her.
February 8th, 2009 at 8:12 pm
You “risked death in the lavatories used by soldiers who came all the way from the Middle East”, huh. The display of that level of self-involvement and paranoia really says it all. Good luck to your new husband!
June 5th, 2009 at 12:41 am
Here’s a little shout-out to the “short” guys out there- I tell ya, we get no respect!
:0)