It’s hard to maintain a sense of honor while dating the enemy

So now I’m back to dating. I was hoping I was past that once and for all, but I guess not. I’ve trimmed my toenails, ironed my best shirt, shined my shoes, paid down my primary credit card, told myself repeatedly how wonderful I am, purchased new cologne…I am again ready to rock and roll.

Problem is, my heart’s not really in it. I’m doing fine on my own, really (insert pathetic, sobbing sounds here), and I’m not exactly anxious to jump back on the dating bandwagon.

Oh, I’m anxious to date the right woman; I’m just not crazy about the idea of dating all those other women during what will be, if past experience is any indication, a long and arduous search. Frankly, I just don’t know if I have it in me to go through all that again.

But I will, because I don’t like living alone. I’ve admitted it before and I’ll admit it again; I like having a wife. Those of you who have one and don’t like it are probably married to the wrong woman. I know because I have been, on several occasions.

At any rate, in recent weeks I’ve been sort of dipping my toes in the water, just to see how I feel about things. I’ve been talking to a girl I saw last summer that I really liked. I’ve reposted my “profile” on the singles Website I frequented a while back. And I have gotten a few “hits,” some from girls who seem very nice.

But the one I’m most interested in at the moment is from a girl I always hated. I used to work for her, about eight years ago, if memory serves.

I’ll call her “Sue,” though her real name is “Deb.” Deb managed a hotel bar where my little weekend band played regularly. She managed the place with an iron fist; I wasn’t the only one there who hated her.

Nobody got away with nothin’ there. Not the waitresses, not the busboys, not the chef, not even the band! And the band usually gets away with murder everywhere.

But not at the bar Deb—I mean Sue—managed. She ran a tight ship; no free drinks, no smoking stinky cigars, no playing too loud or taking long breaks. To Sue, the musicians were employees, not spoiled, middle-aged rock stars. We like being spoiled, middle-aged rock stars!

Now, if I had been manager of that bar, I would have run things exactly like Sue. If a bar manager doesn’t keep a tight rein on things, the bar sinks faster than the Titanic. I’ve been in the business a long time and have seen this scenario played out repeatedly.

Even so, we all still hated Sue. This despite the fact she was super-cute, intelligent and basically a nice person, when she wasn’t “managing.”

Anyway, she emailed me the other day after seeing my profile on the singles Website. She said she saw my profile, remembered me from the band, and thought I was “yummy.” I’ve never been called yummy before, and to my surprise, I really like it.

So now, I’ve got to decide; do I give her a call, ask her out, see what happens? Heaven knows I want to. Like I said, she’s super-cute.

But if I do, I’ll be betraying all the guys I played with back then, some of whom I work with to this day. They’ll never forgive me if I sell out to the enemy. Also, there’s a code of honor between guys who play music together, a sacred bond that transcends male/female relationships, that…that…

Oh, who am I kidding? She thinks I'm yummy. Yeah, I’m gonna call her. I’ll let you know how it goes.

More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com