Page 31 of It's Not PMS, It's You

I held up my hand. “Stop right there! We are not on the same page.”

Dee smirked. “We are not even on the same planet. Earth to Ruth, wake up. Hang on a second.”

I heard the trash sound effect on her computer.

I pointed to her laptop. “You deleted my document, didn’t you?”

“You bet I did. I told you we were doing this my way and the first rule is you arenotallowed to choose his profession or the size of his portfolio. Size doesn’t matter.”

“What are we talking about here?”

“Youknowwhat I’m talking about.” Dee sat forward in her chair. “I already opened an account in your name on this dating website and created your profile.” She turned the laptop around so I could see. “Now these are realistic qualities that you want in a man.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this.” I glanced at her list that she wrote for me on the website. “Honest, a sense of humor, compassionate, patient . . .” I laughed and glanced at Dee. “This is you! I should just marry you.” I pushed the laptop back in her direction.

“Laugh all you want, but you already have thirty-three messages in your inbox since I posted your profile last night. Men want you.”

“Let me see that.” I pulled the laptop back in front of me and scrolled through the pictures of some of the men who had messaged me. “Hmmm. Some of these men are handsome, I’ll give you that much, but we can get rid of this guy here. I’m not going out with a bus driver. Delete.” I deleted his message and went to the next message. “This man is a fisherman? No way. He’s going to smell when he comes home from work every single day. Delete.” I deleted his message and scrolled to the next one. “A nuclear power reactor operator? Seriously? Who willingly, of sound mind, would want to do a job like that? No brain cells is not attractive. He’s going to infect me with radiation and one of my eyeballs is going to fall out of its socket.Notattractive. Goodbye, radiation man.” I deleted his message and pushed the computer back to Dee again. “Already, I can see your way is not going to work.”

She sighed. “You’re not even giving these guys a chance and they could be amazing people.” She pointed to her screen. “And what about this guy? He’s a hunk.” She started to turn her laptop back in my direction.

I threw my hand up to stop her. “I’m not even going to look at his picture. Just tell me what does for a living.”

“He’s a plumber.”

I made the sound of a gameshow buzzer. “I’m not going out with a plumber, regardless of how much he knows about pipes.”

“Basically, I need to go through all these messages and ignore all blue-collar workers.”

“Pretty much! Look, I agree that there’s a chance that some of them may be decent people, okay? But I would like to meet someone who works in an office environment or is a business professional who understands business, at least. Then they will get what I’m trying to do with my career and support me. And I don’t mean support me financially. I mean they will be on my team and root for me as I go for my dreams. A plumber is going to come home, show me his butt crack, and ask me what’s for dinner.”

Dee laughed. “He only shows his butt crack to his clients andyouare being completely ridiculous.”

I laughed. “Yes, I know I am, but I’m just trying to get my point across. I will never have a thing for blue-collar workers!”

Nick appeared in the backyard on the other side of the screen doors, looking in our direction. “Good morning.”

“Good morning!” I said with too much enthusiasm, trying to cover my gaff in case he heard me.

“Good morning,” Dee said.

Nick continued toward the other side of the roses where the fountain was going to be installed today, dropping his tool bag on the ground.

I leaned in toward Dee and whispered. “Please tell me that landscaping is not a blue-collar job.”

“Sorry, I just can’t do that.” She took a bite of her second croissant and shook her head.

Crap.

Now, I felt horrible.

Dee gestured toward the backyard. “And you would rule out a gorgeous man like Nick just because of what he does for a living? The man is fine. Who cares what he does? Then again, Brandon is gorgeous too, and of course he is closer to my age. Brandon is H-O-T!”

Brandon appeared in the backyard on the other side of the screen doors, carrying a box and looking in our direction. “Good morning!” He was looking at Dee, not me.

“Good morning,” Dee and I said at the same time.

Now it was Dee’s turn to lean toward me with what I can only imagine is the same horrified look I had on my face just a minute ago. “Please tell me he didn’t hear that.”