the timely death of IKEA love

the story of Home Teacher man has a conclusion.  

a definite period { . } to end all the confabulation and confusion and chaos.

the world may be a small place, but it is even smaller in provo.  dangerously so for some dating endeavers. 

tonight my darling new-ish friend nigel invited me to go see Sherlock Holmes with two of her friends, who i discovered in the dark of the theater are my friends as well! {i love randomly hanging out with jill and abbey!}

nigel and i made yet another discovery, beyond our mutual friends.

we were swapping war stories of dating.  i couldn't wait to tell her mine about Baseball Player {emphasis on the 2nd word.  he may also be references as "gum stealer"} and Home Teacher man.  now that we were both moved out of the ward i felt safe in sharing my tale of an obvious mutual acquaintance.

i began with date #1 where Home Teacher man and i had a fantastic time, went to the volleyball game, watched (500) Days of Summer, and he put his arm around me.
nigel started giggling. 
 i ventured on to tell about disaster date #2, 3 weeks of no contact, the random invitation to go see Date Night where he lifted the arm rest and initiating hand holding, and his subsequent refusal to acknowledge our semi-friendship in any setting {even when he helped me "move" a t.v. which is another story entirely of awkwardness and frustration}. 

by this point nigel is nearly bursting at the seams with laughter, and gushes that last saturday (one week after Home Teacher man held my hand) he took her out, they went to a volleyball game, they watched (500) Days of Summer, and he put his arm around her. plus last night they cuddled again and he went in for the kiss... but she denied him. thank heavens for both of us.

oh my goodness.  

 he used the exact same move, on BOTH of us.
         we have been John Tucker-ed.
                    he's probably watching (500) Days of Summer with some other girl right now and canoodling her!
                          the questioning of what he was doing while not talking to me has clearly been answered.


that comical coincidence sealed our friendship, both due to the incredible irony, the stupidity of Home Teacher man to not think we would find out, and our pact {after unveiling his devious little actions} to refuse all future invitations and cast the line that we {nigel and i} are friends and know  all of each others' secrets.  including his dirty little secret of being a serial dater.

Home Teacher man, our IKEA love has come to an end. for good.  it shall never be recesitated again-- no glimmer on the monitor could ever induce me to shock that potential back into pulsation because your dirty little secret killed it stone dead.