Strawberry Fields For NEVER

Don’t have a Valentine this year? Sad about it? I’m here to change all of that nonsense for you.

Sherrie Sherrie at your service. You are welcome.

I posted a blog a while back, Yellow Flag on the Turf and on my “Date,” and many were entertained at my expense. I’m going to repeat that process as a little Valentine’s Day present. My gift to all of you. Muah.

1)      You can not say you didn’t receive anything this year.

2)      You will be thankful and grateful you aren’t with someone like this.

3)      You will laugh and smile and be merry! This is my wish for you!

So this here will be the highlight reel of a texting voyage of epic proportions I shared with a guy suggested to me by a mutual friend. I have coined this man Dr. Field Good.

This mobile rendezvous with the good “Doctor” lasted a whopping 2 ½ days. A short time, yes. Nevertheless, it journeyed me down roads of wackadoodle that I wish to never have to travel down again. **Shudder** NEVER. EVER.

I certainly don’t want to ruin a great story for lack of embellishment, but won’t inundate you with each of the nearly 200 messages that transpired. Please note, that less than 30% of these texts were my own. When you factor in that some of his texts were so lengthy they would count as 6 or 7 by normal standards, it’s clear the Doctor doesn’t realize that texting is supposed to be more of a volley. Lob one up, get a reply, lather, rinse, repeat, etc.  

Day one of this ride was “relatively” normal in terms of people initially chatting. Relatively, here, really does need the “air quotes.” Please use them accordingly. 

The first 12 hours included numerous quirky pictures: (1) him on a horse, (2) the “easy button,” (3) his knee, (4) his professional headshot, (5) him riding in a cardboard car, (6) a kitten (and not his own, just a cutesy girlie internet one), (7) the plastic divider thingy from a grocery store check out line, and (8) the threshold of his front door. Your typical run-of-the-mill let's get to know one another images to share? Amiright?!? {{Scratching head}}

Day 2 started early. 8:00 a.m.

Sweet, but after less than 24 hours, it’s a little too early to be getting the good morning Babe texts.

Slammed at work; I respond to the initial text, however, not to the stream of ones that followed for nearly 3 hours. Dr. Field Good wasn’t feeling too good about the lag in my response and questioned whether he had “done something wrong?”

This is code for “Are you Fing kidding me here with this?!?!” A day and half and there is an expectation on text turnaround time.

A bit later, my infrequency of communication is again in question.

The trip is already over for me at this point. The rental car is turned in. The suitcase is unpacked. I'm just searching for the energy to respond.

Day 3 starts off even earlier, 7:30 a.m.

Ah, yes. This “game” is called common sense to most. I know it well and play it often. 

But wait, there’s more. Field Good wants to play even more "games." This time a "silly" one. What fun?!

Ummmmm…. What'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?

Is this fence you speak of the way out of this imaginary hell? If so I’m running for it full steam ahead. Get outta my way Buddie!

Not only do I NOT want to play this fruit fantasy, in one fell swoop the doctor may have ruined strawberries for me for life. No lie. For life. A strawberry might never touch these lips again.

Annnndddd… I’m OUT!

The barrage of texts that follow over the course of the next several hours, well, there really are no words.

Really?! Pulling out the “brought together” card after only texting for a flash in the dating pan?

 Ya think perhaps? Hhhhmmm? Yeah, maybe, just a teeny tiny little bit on the dramatic side.

It's a major award! Times three. Congratulations going out to the doctor. (A picture of one of his inventions was included for good measure)

Well, I’m kinda leaning towards “not,” but do you “promise?” Do you pinky swear promise? If not, it doesn’t count. 

Somewhere this has switched over from a courting attempt to an audition for a variety hour. At best his humor never surpassed corny. Corn Dog Award. Now his fourth major award.

Endless more unanswered texts and an invite for "one meeting in a coffee shop" later:

Annnndddd… I’m OUT! For the second time.

Give it up to the Doc for persistence and his ability to perform a full emotional analysis on me all whilst not missing a beat on the fast fingered texting:

Oh nooooo heeee di-int.  **Finger snap snap snap in “Z” formation**

So not even close.

These 25 people? Were they tied up at the time? 

Love. This. Chick. High-five sane woman, whoever and wherever you are. Us girls gotta stick together. 

Dr. Feel Good and 2 other doctors walk into a bar...

Text onslaught continues. I received at least 12 phone screen sized "pages" going over the details, ad nauseam, of previous messages, schooling me on what he believes to be proper texting etiquette in these kinds of situations, and much mention of actions, thoughts, opinions "as a man." 

Annnndddd… I’m OUT! Third and FINAL out. 

Oh right. Now he's out??! 'Bout time. And awww man, I'm both deleted and blocked. Sad face. 

I will adamantly reject the fact that I am angry or have any barriers. Nonetheless, if it keeps me away from people that are loco in noco like this? Then bring them ON.  Barriers are my friend. Barriers = BFF. 

So single gals & guys out there, think of Dr. Field Good here and be happy with your singledom. Embrace your life, your barriers, your worth. Don’t compromise what you want, need, like… the gamut. You deserve it all. And you owe no one an apology for that.

Let’s all make a simple toast. 

Raise your glasses friends… raise them high and repeat after me...

“Strawberry Fields For NEVER!”

 ~~clink~~

Feels good.

“Strawberry Fields For NEVER!”

**GULP**

Happy Valentine’s Day Loves! Never settle for an imaginary field of strawberries when you deserve so much more than that. It's the real deal or nothing. Don't ever forget that. xxxooo