The Number of The Beast

Until I saw this website, Bush is Antichrist, I had been convinced that a guy I dated a few years back, DE, was the antichrist and I am greatly relieved to learn that empirical data shows Bush, and not DE, is the antichrist - although I still believe they may be in cahoots...

A couple of years back, as the dreaded three-oh approached, I decided that it was time to latch on to a man as soon as possible before I shriveled up and died a lonely woman with too many cats and a vacant uterus. Incidentally, such women are becoming more ingrained in the popular culture as is evidence by this, Crazy Cat Lady. Naturally, I turned to the mecca of modern day match-making - the internet. I posted an ad and began the hunt. One candidate that looked great on paper (and screen) was DE. He was 34, owned his own business making custom guitars, had a BMW 2002 tii, was good looking, and lived within the requisite 30 mile radius. Granted, he did have several cats, did not like to go outside during the day for an unnatural fear of skin cancer, and wore thick wool socks with his sandals, but I was approaching 30 and realized compromise was necessary at this point.

Our first date was coffee in Santa Barbara. It was a fun date that turned into lunch at which time I received the first sign of his antichrist/at-the-very-least-prone-to-psychosis tendencies - he was born on 6/6/66. I casually laughed it off as I dreamed of myself learning to play guitar on a custom koa wood parlor guitar with abalone trim while my doting little devil accompanied me. The second date was dinner at a local steakhouse. Upon arrival he notified me that he had almost cancelled the date because he "wasn't sure this was working" but was then relieved he had come because I was "cuter than he remembered". I thought that was odd but filed it away in my off-handed compliments compartment, which after years of being single is quite full.

For our third date he came over to my house to see me before I was leaving for Minnesota for three weeks of my annual reserve duty. Mind you, it was our third date and nothing had "happened" between us to require a major goodbye ceremony. But good old DE arrived with a care package for me to open when I got to my hotel, a gushing "miss you already" card, and about 10 prepaid phone cards for me to call him daily from Minnesota. Given the fact that he was confused about his feelings for me the previous week, I was surprised by his gesture and informed him we would pick up things upon my return and off I went, refusing to allow him to drive me to the airport.

Silly me, I used the prepaid phone cards to call my friends and family - people I had spent more than six hours of my life with - and only called him twice during the three week period. When I did call him he was upset that I had done such things as go to a movie without him and wander a mall with other reservists so it was difficult to muster the patience to call him even thought the minutes were techinically his. Upon my return DE said we needed to talk about "what had happened" and that he felt counseling was in order and he wanted me to meet with him and his counselor. I nearly dropped the phone when I heard this. Seeing an opportunity for a future tale to tell, I quickly made some excuse to get off the phone and said I would call back. Naturally, I spent the next hour consulting with my girlfriends about this strange development and we all agreed that I must attend the counseling if for nothing else than to later relay the information to the girls. Even my mother advised that it is not often a girl gets invited to counseling at such an early stage and at least it would make for an interesting date.

So DE and I met at his counselor's office a few days later. It was all very serious for a date. He went in first and spoke with her, then they invited me in and informed me that DE had been in counseling for years. He then said I wasn't putting enough energy into the relationship. I was confused as we'd only been on three dates at that time. I responded that this was only our fourth date and DE might be making a mountain of a molehill. An awkward moment passed then DE burst into tears and said something about women abandoning him. The counselor hugged DE and looked at me as if I were the one born on 6/6/66. I gathered my purse walked out of the office and broke into laughter as I walked to my car. I headed to my friend's hosue to tell the tale and we had a great laugh together. Funny thing is, DE called me that night to inform me that he was willing to "give us another try" if I was willing to attend counseling with him. I declined the offer, which is probably why I'm still single today...

What this has to do with Bush is beyond me but reading the number analogy did remind me of poor DE.