Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor……..

I recently was speaking about the men I’ve dated and I said everyone from a cab driver to a surgeon.  My friend said, really? You dated a cab driver?  Now I’ve got nothing against cab drivers and lord knows probably half of them are doctors or judges or well educated people from other countries who are stuck in some situation in which they find themselves driving a cab in New York city, but I don’t think I’ve been driven around by many (if any) of them and the average cab driver and I have not much in common, and trust me, I’ve spoken to several, so it was a logistical question more than a snobbery issue.  Still, I have never dated a cab driver so it was hyperbole, which I’m prone to, at any given moment.

It then occurred to me who I have dated, and by dated I mean anyone I’ve from met to actually had a relationship with, and I have  compiled a list below for some purpose, perhaps which will be ascertained by someone in 300 years, although, not likely.

I’ll start with 2 PhDs.  Inventors who have likely saved thousands of life with medical tools and medicine they created.  Two of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met.

There’s the variety of technology people, sales, client assistance, coders (strange people and I know ‘cuz I’ve been one), security, network support, app developers.  The list goes on. As does technology.

Bar tender – hard to keep up with the hours.

Sommelier – see note above. Anyone in restaurants, tricky schedules. Long hours, lots of grief, often the lingering smell of food.  Still, he showed up to a dinner I made with a cooler and 3 bottles of wine – one for each course – after having probed me for the ingredients so he could match up the libation with the meal. I guess the soy in the meat marinade was a challenge but after the 2nd course no one could really discern the problem.

Work out instructors – cute but not usually too intellectual.

2 architects, separately of course.

Composer, aptly moody.

An artist who drew my braid. Was very into braids: wax braids, string braids, ribbon braids, twigs, in short, anything and everything that could be twisted.  Probably needless to say he taught art at a local YMCA  to pay the bills because the exhibits were few and far between.

2 photographers – again – moody. Again, probably needless to say.

CFO, CEO, CCO, COO – are there any letter designations I’m forgetting?  LOCO. Quite a few of those.

Marketing guys, PR guys, an event planner who looked like Sam Shepard, one paparazzi who got hit by a bus.  I don’t know that he actually got hit by a bus but he fell off the radar and my friends were castigating me anyway for dating a paparazzi so it was for the best.  He didn’t count in the number of photographers.

A guy who sold ad space for a sports magazine.  Actually 2 of those. One wouldn’t think it’s a prevalent occupation out in the world, but I suppose when you’ve been around the block as I have you tend to run into these things. No professional athletes although a few guys who ran the marathon.

A guy who restored or photographed restorations of or catalogued through photography or took before and after pictures, of the artwork at the Met.  I probably only saw him once because he felt I wasn’t really listening to what he was saying.

A stone sculptor.  A cabinet/woodworker. A painter – big modern murals, not “Would you prefer this wall in crème or heather leaf brown?”

A guy from Texas who I think was a cowboy but probably wasn’t because there’s not a big need for that in Manhattan.  Maybe he just looked like a cowboy.  Or maybe I thought he was a cowboy because he liked Sarah Palin.

Real estate lawyers, real estate brokers – both commercial and residential because I don’t like to discriminate. Litigation lawyers, intellectual property lawyers and my favorite gun promoting I-don’t-remember-what-he-practiced lawyer because after a blow up in a restaurant about gun laws I worked hard to erase his presence from my ever faltering memory.

I went for a guy who owned a golf course.  Well actually his parents owned it, he was the grounds keeper.  It’s why you date someone more than once, so you can get the real story.  Anyway, drinking issues and god issues – suffice to say it wasn’t a match.

Met once a guy who set up and filmed dangerous commercials.  You know, the car rounding one of those cliffs on one side road and you think how did they get that shot from the non mountain side of the road?  Who do you think hangs from a something or other and shoots that scene? (Or maybe you never thought that. )  I hadn’t thought about it either til I met this guy.  Big drinker too.  Who could blame him?

Met a pyrotechnics guy.  Another dangerous line of work.  Never graduated high school but was making a fortune blowing things up for studios.

Also a special effects guy for late night TV talk shows.  What you say? What effects are there on those? Letterman’s desk rises a few inches off the ground for something or another.  Hours of hard work go into that.   Who knew?  He was a big black guy.  Had to light a guy on fire one night in a pyro-tech suit.  Said, how many black men get to light a white guy on fire? He loved his job.

Eye surgeon, thoracic surgeon, an oncologist, 2 dentists, no orthodontists.  Too bad because my retainer could use tightening.  Likewise, no plastic surgeons.  Again, a shame. The botox discount would be worth that alone but I think those guys go out with women who have already had so much done they look way better than me to begin with.  Those guys know going out with a girl like me is going to cost them in the perks department whereas you’ve had 3 facelifts already……home free!

I did go out with a brain surgeon. He said it’s not actually all that hard. So much for the expression “It’s not brain surgery” which I used to use a lot but if you use it to mean something so easy, no one gets it.

No soldiers, although maybe that’s what the guy from Texas was. I don’t know, he’s still a confusion.  I did go out with a sniper from some police department.  He said it was really pretty boring.  No crashing through doors, no “shoot on my command” no waiting for the right moment when the woman who has a gun to her head moves just enough to “take the shot!!!!”  Lots of sitting around, staring at a house, or post office, or car and waiting for the negotiator to get the guy out or the guy to kill himself and then everyone takes their marbles and goes home.  He did, last I heard, go to Iraq to work for BlackWater.  I bet there was no taking your marbles home there.

There was the estate jewelry appraiser. I thought he was gay but I bet some other woman is getting nice Christmas gifts.

There were a few entrepreneurs (aka unemployed folks), some day traders (also unemployed) and the random ‘contractor’ contracting what was never really clear.  Either those guys worked for the CIA or…..unemployed.

I once dated a shipping magnate, long ago.  He was about 30 years my senior at the time so I’m guessing by now he’s dead or senile, because I’m pretty sure I will be in the 30 years (most likely the latter).  He went by the name of BJ.  That’s all I’m gonna say.

One guy owned his own paint making firm.  One guy sold cars.  They were both gay in my opinion but what do I know?

One guy owned a cheesecake factory and I don’t mean the chain restaurant where fat people go to get fatter, I mean he actually owned a big place that made cheesecakes wholesale. Did you know when you buy those at Whole Foods or wherever they buy them naked but decorate them in store so that they can say they were made in house.  I don’t think that’s really the reason but I happen to know they buy them from this guy.  Things you find out….

A screenwriter, an unpublished author, a published author and an aspiring comedian. You pick which are unemployed.

2 professors.  NYU and Sara Lawrence because even as a job I might as well discriminate for good schools. One was….omg…..a man who actually broke my heart on the 1 to 10 scale by hitting a 13.  The other was into spanking.  I won’t say who came from which school. Think about it. It’s harder to figure out than you’d imagine.

A printer: that’s the job description for a human.  I haven’t been reduced to going out with inanimate objects.   Yet.

An ivy league running coach. Also a big drinker.  He had a bad memory but I guess when you’re job is watching people run in circles your memory isn’t such a big issue.

I once spoke to a pedicab driver, but declined to meet, although I suppose that could fulfill my taxicab requirement.

There was the guy who ran a fireman training school. He wasn’t a fireman.  He wasn’t even a ‘drop and give me 40’ guy.  He was a paper organizer but we all embellish.  It’s more glamorous to push paper at a fireman school than at the car tow pound.  At least it is for a minute.

Oh and there was the pirate.  His vocation wasn’t really being a pirate but he cut up ships underwater. It improved the environment and paid a good buck.  That was until he cut his arm off with an underwater cable cutter.  They didn’t give him a hook but it sure locked in the moniker of “pirate” in my mind. A hook would have been so much cooler.

I had lunch with a terrorist once.  A retired terrorist. I think he was in politics now.  We never got to the dinner he promised me.  I had dreamt up a story of him returning to the fight for greater good but I saw him online about a year later so I guess I had just gotten the blow off.  I’m sticking with my first version if anyone asks.  As if ……

I once spoke to a news man, I won’t say what network.  He’d been in the business too long though and was seeing conspiracy theories everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE.  Either that or we really are all screwed.

No firemen but once, long ago, I dated a policeman.  He came to my office to resolve something.  Very cute, not so bright. We saw Quest For Fire which without dialogue was too confusing.  Brains and brawn is probably too much to ask for but fun to pursue.

There was the model, the aspiring model cum bartender.  The actor, the aspiring actor cum bartender.

There was a physical therapist, not mine although damn I was sometimes wishing I’d hung around for the benefits until I ran into him years later and he’d had both hips replaced and walked with a pronounced limp. Healer heal thyself….so much for that.

There was the opera agent, although never the opera star.  He did a wicked good imitation of Borat although I never knew if that was some correlation to his working too much with Divas.  I couldn’t find the correlation but it was a great rendering just the same.

No magicians, although a few have done some amazing disappearing acts.

There was the Canadian who opened a chain of dry cleaning/washing machine stores in China.  This was a puzzlement to me since in New York it seems like the majority of dry cleaners are owned by Asians and yet apparently in China there’s a dearth.  I believe he’s a very wealthy man at the moment.  At least he’s very clean.

I once went out with a guy who was in HVAC, he said, and then it turned out he was a coke machine repairman.  I guess that’s HVAC, I mean it must be the AC part to keep them cool.  I don’t know.  I don’t drink Coke and I certainly don’t know anything about machines. He loved his job though and it’s a rare person you meet who actually loves his job.  Still, we weren’t a couple despite his being very cute.

There was gangster John (names have been changed to protect the innocent).  He wasn’t really a gangster but his photo online was in a shark skin suit (is that what that sort of shiny material is called? because it wasn’t an actual shark suit, like “Land Shark”, <= see Saturday Night Live in the Gilda Radner era).  He was actually a banker.  Although I guess the difference between banker and gangster these days isn’t as far as it used to be.  Or perhaps the difference between banker and land shark was never that far apart, so I guess, all in all, it’s an accurate description no matter how you slice it.

Lastly was the guy who counted bolts. He worked between the architect and the builder. Between the drawing and the putting together someone has to figure out how many beams, bolts, screws, yards of duct tape (<=kidding) are needed to put together a sky scraper.  It’s one of those things you don’t think about, at least I never did but of course, someone has to do it; they don’t just keep those things laying around until someone needs them. I don’t know, I thought that was fascinating.  Perhaps I’m easily amused.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

So there you have it.  No astronauts, no NASA scientists, no race car drivers, no psychologists, no politicians.  I’d like to nip the whole thing in the bud but it’s good to know, if I can’t, at least I haven’t exhausted every potential.

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