Friends of exes. Have you ever heard a story that turned out good about someone who dated a friend of an ex? I haven’t. And guess what? This one is no different.
I met “Steven” when I was still married to my ex. We all used to hang out at a local bar/pool hall. It was a quiet little hole in the wall so it was easy to get to know the local yokels and become one yourself. One of the afternoons I decided to hang out at the bar, I came across Steven hanging near the pool tables. He asked where my ex was (who I was still together with at the time) and when I told him he was at home he asked me to call him and see if he would come up there and shoot some pool. So I did. I told my ex that Willy was at the bar & wanted to shoot some pool with him. The guy looked over at me and said what? My name is Steven. To which I replied well I don’t think you look like a Steven, I think you look like a Willy. He wasn’t real happy with that so he agreed he could live with me calling him Steven-Willy, and so I did.
A few months later I was in the middle of my divorce process and was alone for the weekend. It was shortly after Hurricane Charley and I was waiting on a guy to come get a pine tree off my house. He left me a message and let me know that he would call when he was on his way. I, not being one to just sit around the house, decided I would head up to the bar and wait on the tree guy. I mean after all it was a Sunday afternoon, football was on, it’s two minutes from my house and I had time to kill.
When I got up there Steven-Willy was there hanging like he always was. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. It didn’t take long for him to wander over & start up a conversation. He asked about my soon to be ex and when I told him we were in the process of a divorce he seemed intrigued. He asked a few basic questions which I quickly answered and then he invited me to shoot some pool. We continued to talk, shoot pool and drink for most of the afternoon and into the evening when the conversation turned from innocent to not so innocent.
Well I guess the fact that I’m one to shy away from a sexual conversation got him hot and bothered and he told me to follow him home. And so I did. Shockingly, one thing led to another and the deed was done.
The next morning, I walk into work on time and with a big smile on my face. Let’s just say this is not my usual demeanor on a Monday morning. My friend sees me and blurts out. Oh my God. You got laid! “What? Holy shit! How the hell did you know that?” I guess it was the smug grin on my face which didn’t go away for a really long time. That was until my soon to be ex got wind of the whole situation. I guess when you frequent a small time establishment where alcohol is consumed, people talk. Not pretty. He wasn’t happy and really gave me hell, but since he had cheated on me for nine of the eleven years we were together, I wasn’t really concerned about his feelings on the whole subject. I did however want to get another piece of the action. Apparently Steven-Willy got read the same riot act from my ex and wasn’t nearly as willing to toss aside his objections.
Steven-Willy never called and when we both wound up at the bar at the same time, things just got awkward. Eventually the bar closed and I never saw him again. I know what you’re all thinking though. Whatever happened to the tree? When I got home that night after my romp with Steven-Willy, it was gone. I guess based on the disappearing act, the tree was a man too.
