What Was I Thinking?

At 18 I snagged a 24-year-old, 6'4", blond boyfriend. Are you pretty impressed? Wait...

Our first date was spent at the Big Boy on 15 Mile and Telegraph. He implored me to break up with my then-boyfriend, a mere "boy" of 18 from Windsor. I agreed.

Then I spent as much time at Arby's as humanly possible.

"Mark" loved Arby's as a baby loves his bottle. Our second date, in fact, took place at the Arby's on 10 Mile and Greenfield. I sat rapt as Mike shoveled bite after bite of roast beef sandwich into his huge mouth. These were not everyday bites; he opened his mouth as wide as his jaw would allow and crammed in as much sandwich as would fit. Then he would begin to chew, but before he could swallow, he stopped long enough to stuff in another awe-inspiring piece of meat and bread. His cheeks would bulge like a hamster's does as he prepares for the winter fast. This over and over again, until foil wrappers lay empty and spent, nothing left but a few lonely sesame seeds scared out of their wits.

This display was truly horrid, yet I exposed myself to it again and again. I liked Mark - he was gorgeous, older, had a decent grown-up job, and hadn't lived with his parents for years. But he was rather repulsive, too. He had some of the strangest habits of anyone I've ever known. For example, once a week he'd ask the counter girl at Arby's for an empty styrofoam cup which he would then take home and use over and over for his water. (I think he was stalking Arby's - not a particular one, all of them.) He smoked a lot of pot, too. I would see him sitting on the couch stoned, reading a magazine. Then, hours later when he was still reading the same magazine, I would notice that he had spent the entire night on the same page, just staring at it.

And the Arby's dates continued. He just could not get enough of that place. He was obsessed with cheap, greasy roast beef on refined white flour buns. I liked it okay, but this is what he considered acceptable as a regular date venue?

When I started to grow up a bit, I realized that this guy was just freaky and that I had no business being with him. So I broke up with him. But I had to do it again and again because every time I did it he would tell me that he was going to check into a mental hospital. So, like a young, inexperienced, scared fool, I'd say, "Okay, let's get back together."

Finally, finally, I was able to get away from him. Lessons learned?

1. Looks aren't everything and very often don't count for an iota of anything.

2. Be way of any man who thinks Arby's and Big Boy constitute a date.

3. When you break up with someone who threatens to commit himself, let him - he probably needs it.

Oh, and people who treat styrofoam fast food cups as stemware are probably in need of detox.