back here.

I am, I believe, a picky person.

And I have often been told that I am missing out because of this. But when I ask what it is that I am missing out on, I am given a long list of things that I have tried and would rather not waste my precious time or taste buds on, thankyouverymuch.

Things like chili. Avocados. Tomatoes. Tiramisu. Coffee. Dark chocolate. Tea. Coke. Most chips that are colored orange. Salsa–though, I do enjoy that style of dancing. Taco Bell, yes the whole place. Clothes that match too well. Screamo bands (though I do dearly love some of those who do it…). Loreena McKennit (somebody who I will not mention used to listen to her all. the. time). Mashed potatoes. Arbitrary commenting on another’s appearance. And too-long fingernails.

And that’s just the short list; there is way more where that came from, believe me.

See, it is not so very difficult for me to form my opinion, I think. Except lately I have been vacillating over mushrooms. Turns out they are not quite as terrible as I had thought for most of my life. In fact, I recently ordered a salad and, upon hearing that it regularly comes with mushrooms, I didn’t ask them to prepare it sans the mushrooms, for once. But then I proceeded to eat around every last one of the mushrooms, leaving them quietly neglected at the bottom of the dish. Go figure.

But all this to say, that I usually know what I don’t want.

Which brings me to a conversation I had with my friend Christian a bit ago. He called me up laughing, so excited to tell me about a recent exchange he had with one of the guys who works at a local pizza shop we often go to around here, Rosa’s. Except the last time, Christian went alone. And this guy remarked upon that fact and then asked,  So, what’s the story with that blond who’s usually here with you? Is she your sister?

When Christian told him I was a good friend, he proceeded to ask if I am single. At which point, Christian–honest guy that he is–had to say yes. Because I am, I guess. But then to scare him off (Christian informed me), he told him, But she very recently went through a divorce…

Um, thanks, Christian.

Because the guys at Rosa’s might have been the last people to know about my story, so I guess it was time.

But then Pizza Guy asked Christian to put in a good word for him.

And ugh. Cause the thing is, I know that I don’t want to date him. And yes, Pizza Guy might really be nice and hey! he knows how to make pizza (and on a side note, not just any pizza, either, but my very favorite kind of pizza in the whole world: their version of barbeque chicken pizza!), I know that I know that I know that I don’t want to date him.  And it’s not like it’s him, necessarily–it’s actually most people in the world.

Because I wouldn’t date most people.

And unfortunately, it got to the point where I found myself married to one of them–a person I wouldn’t date…So, that was a real problem, as you can well imagine. But back to Pizza Guy. How do you just say I wouldn’t date you? I suppose I could just say I am not dating anyone right now–but the truth has much more to do with the fact that no, I would not date him, super pizza-making abilities, and all. And I don’t anticipate it being a real problem or anything, but it is kind of annoying, because I really do enjoy their pizza and don’t want it to be awkward in there.

And how weird that I am once again in this kind of a situation, because well, it’s been a minute, to say the least.