Woof! Woof!

I made a promise to myself to avoid Bloody as much as I can even if that would mean taking the long way to home or simply catching a ride to work in a different terminal in one of those smelly and sweaty old rickety vans. But the thought of him persisted like a rash. So I sought advice from an old friend, Mistress Yoda, who explicitly told me these words of wisdom: “To forget a guy, get another guy.”

Like a good student, I put this awesome insight to a test. So I tried out a different venue to fish for guys without getting bitten. I spent a couple of nights lurking inside Yahoo! Chat sporting a cool handle called “Dancing Red Shoes”.

There I met “Puppy” – a thirty something guy who looked perfect from all camera angles. With eyeglasses on, he was like Super Boy.

Since he was in town for vacation, I agreed to meet him up in Podium on the basis of pure good looks. Puppy did not disappoint. He looked like a Makati executive with sleeves up his elbows. From time to time, he would check on his Blackberry or flip a pack of Dunhill with his other hand. I could tell the guy was either nervous….or bored at his wits.

While having dinner, he threw in those usual questions – and general assumptions – that pertain to my celibate life. They no longer shock me. I have been comfortable living in my own skin and knowing the fact that I really don’t know how to attract the proper guy for me. I was no longer surprised when Puppy confessed that he had a wife who left him to marry a rich man, and whisked his daughter away to Macau.

I told you. Why I seem to attract these men bearing these tales of bad marriages, I have no idea.

To sum up Puppy’s sad story, he just came home to exact vengeance on his in-laws who consented to the affair and show the world that he is no weenie. So he took my hand and asked me to be his girlfriend. I burst out laughing.

“I think what you really need right now is a lawyer. I’ve got friends.” I immediately withdrew my hand and dug deep into my pockets. “Let’s go home.”