An Open Letter to the Creepy, Crazy Old Guy Astrologer Guy I Once Went on a Terrible Date With, Who, Coincidentally, is on my new Condo Board:

Dear Creepy, Crazy Old Guy Astrologer Guy I Once Went on a Terrible Date With, Who, Coincidentally, is on my new Condo Board:

Wow! Was that awkward or what?! I mean, what are the odds, right? Seeing as how you're clearly a couple Crayons short of a box, I'm not sure it registered that I'm me, that cute lawyer you once went on a date with (while I wore a suit, and you wore a stained sleeveless shirt -- for reasons beyond my possible comprehension...) who physically pushed you away when you leaned in for a "good night kiss." And you probably don't remember how I made haste to my car when I was done with our date. Because I thought you were going to try to eat my pancreas.

But I remember you... and the "RUN! RUN FAR AND FAST AWAY FROM THIS SERIAL KILLER!!!" feeling you inspired within me. And your crazy eyes. I remember your crazy eyes.

I think we both played it totally cool, though, wouldn't you agree? How I pretended it was the first time we had ever met each other (I'm not sure whether you were pretending or you couldn't place my face...), and how we never had an agonizing hour-and-a-half-long date, during which you constantly touched me, and said weird awkward things to me, and fixated on me with those icy, vacant eyes of yours, which froze the very blood in my veins when your death stare was affixed upon my person? Go team! Sorry I wrenched my hand from your limp grip during our "meeting" though, I don't like to shake a hand past two pumps, especially when the being attached to the hand gives me the heebie-jeebies.

And hey, thanks for the vote approving me as a new resident. That was charitable of you, considering I never answered another telephone call or email from you again. Because, you know, you scared the shit out of me.

I'm not gonna lie, if you had been wearing a clean shirt, I may have hooked up with you (at the time) because I was sad and lonely, and even though you were old enough to be my father, you weren't unattractive in that Bearded-crazy-old-hippie sort of way...

But I couldn't get past the barbecue sauce or whatever it was you had slathered down the front of your shirt. That was a dealbreaker. I noticed that you were able to wear (relatively) clean clothes today at the Condo Meeting! E for Effort for you!

I noticed that everyone else on the Condo board thought you were a space cadet and a freakshow too... like when the president of the condo board told you maybe the Condo needed, "Some fuckin' Zen Feung Shui or some shit." That was sort of classic and hilarious, but I didn't let on that I knew that you were a crazy crystal waving, card-reading lunatic. Because that was my job during this hour and a half geschuchte. To pretend we had never met before, and that I hadn't run screaming from our date like a Miss Texas Contestant with her bouffant on fire.

And I'm sorry about after the meeting when you tried to engage me in further conversation, I sort of slid past you said my good byes and ran out... It brought back what it was like trying to talk to you during our disaster of a date, and, um... I didn't like it. It made me feel like you were trying to suck my soul out... or hypnotize me to get me to come upstairs so you could blow me. And honestly? Either prospect was pretty offputting. I'm not sure which was more offputting... but.... well, you get my meaning. Sorry I ran away from you. Again.

I say we just put all this awkwardness aside, and start anew! Last night was our first time meeting! Yay! You don't know me, I don't know you... when the Condo board was asking me if I had any alcoholic crazy ex-girlfriends and I was like, "Oh, no, don't worry about that," I'll bet you got our (secret) joke... Let's pretend like you never considered me a potential alcoholic crazy ex-boyfriend. And I'll pretend I never entertained the horrifying notion of your wearing my face-skin as a mask and making a ritual necklace out of my toe bones.

Now, I can treat you with the same distant friendliness I lavish upon all my neighbors. I'll be sure to give you a tight smile, maybe hold the elevator for you, and engage in cursory small-talk lasting under twenty seconds. I think this is the start of a beautiful emotionally distant, but physically close (in proximity) relationship. Between two adults who live in the same small-sized building.

I do know, however, that this means I should activate that security alarm I have in my place. Check.

Please don't kill me during the next hurricane and make rope sandals from my tendons.

Love,

Me.