So! I was sitting up late on Saturday night and for some reason, "I had a neighbor named Cosmo Brockington growing up!" popped in my head. So I decided to see if good ol' Cosmo was on Facebook. And he is! Right there with a great big deer head, but there he is! And then I started thinking about growing up in our little neighborhood called Parkwood in Florence. And then I started thinking about who I was dating right before we moved out of Parkwood. And then I decided to see if I could find him on Facebook, too. He has a much more common name than "Cosmo Brockington," I'm afraid, so there were umpteen to choose from, mostly with those shadow figures for profile pictures So then I remembered his middle name and tried googling. Then I remembered what state he was from originally and googled again. And then I went pipl.com all over his butt and found the one I thought might be him. Another quick search with the new information, and there he was! I thought...I wasn't sure. No picture. But there was an email address! So I sent a very vague, "Excuse me, but are you the same so-and-so who was stationed in NC and sprained both ankles in a parachute jump and didn't believe in Valentine's Day? If you are, hey! It's me! If not, I'm sorry to have bothered you."
Fast forward about 24 hours and............it's him! Of course the first thing he wanted to know was how I found him. Then he wanted to know about me. Told him I had a daughter and worked in radio. He said he was married with no kids. Wanted to know if I was still married. Told him I wasn't, and then you know what comes next.............
"So! Do you Yahoo chat?" Uh, no. "So! What are you doing right now?" Shopping. "So! Are you buying high heels?" No, a black tee shirt. "Black is so sexy..." All righty, then.
What is up with guys??? If he was single, sure, I'd play along with a "Yes, I'm shopping for high heels and I happen to be doing it NAKED." But the fun of just running down an old boyfriend and seeing what's up turned all dirty super fast and now I'm just waiting for his wife to call me up and say, "Who the hell do you think you are messing with my HUHS-bund!"
I might be out of this looking-up-old-boyfriends phase. One strike and I'm out.