Burnett - Connect: how to know if hes really your man

I RECENTLY TRAVELED TO BEVERLY HILLS with my date, my handsome blond-haired, blue eyed eleven-year-old charmer. We had just arrived back at our hotel and were sitting poolside, cooling off with a drinknon-alcoholic for him, of coursewhen out of nowhere came a pushy dude wearing a suit, trailed by a skinny, long-legged blonde.

Excuse me, I said, but there is somebody sitting there.

He looked at me and shoved over an inch.

Do you want something to drink? he asked.

My date, being the bubbly social type that he is, was busy talking the night away with some Scottish tourist who I later learned was a very intriguing and spiritually awakened man who suffered some serious health problems at a young age, causing harm to some of the family jewels. But well talk about body parts later.

As my son excused himself to the restroom, Mr. Pushy Pants started a conversation with Scotty boy. Before I had time to remove the fuchsia paper umbrella from my drink, Ms. Skinny Blonde began peppering me with questions, which led into a longwinded drama worthy of the Broadway stage. Even though I had only known her for thirty seconds, she began sharing her whole life story, and gave me the complete rundown of her string of recent boyfriends, their considerable faults, and how they had been completely wrong for her. I just nodded and took a bite of my pineapple skewer.

As she continued to offload on me about her current dating situation, as if I was a columnist for a dating newspaper, she told me about her husbands battle and death due to cancer. Although I felt I empathized with her loss, all I wanted was to relax and enjoy the rest of my eveningand not get drawn into a total strangers dramabut she kept chatting.

She said she was all setwith her career and moneywisebut then up popped this opportunity (opportunity in dating, that is). She offered, Why take a breather? As if being single is a bad thing.

Oh here we go, I thought. I know where this conversation is heading... its complicated.

Yes it was. Anytime someone tells me they need to be with someone instead of finding happiness being on their own, its always complicated.

Then she dropped the bomb. She confessed that she was now dating a married man.

She asked me over and over how I felt about her dating a married man, and why I felt she was making that choice. Her desperation and level of detail seemed to grow with every glass of wine, which, at this point, was likely the better part of a bottle.

Maybe she saw the look on my face as she f lagged the bartender down for another round, so she told me, through highly slurred words, that she used to not drink much until she met Mr. Pushy Pants.

A bell rang in my head. DING, DING, DIN G thats the emotional and physical health railroad crossing bar droppingSTOP! If you are doing more of something thats not benefiting the quality of your temple, in other words, your body, then its time to step aside quietly and examine your actions. I had an imaginary counseling session in my head with Blondie, even as I nodded my head and tossed in an occasional, Oh, really? Oh yes, Im sure, as she droned on.

Do you drink more with your beau because its more fun, or does he just seem funnier, smarter, less pushy and more charming when you are under the influence? Are you trying to keep up with his level of drinking so you wont notice that he is actually drinking most of the time? Or are you drinking so much because you know what you are doing is wrongon so many levels?

I get it, I thought, Im not judging, just encouraging you to go a little deeper with your personal development thought process and really think with the left side of your brain as to why this guy makes sense in your life.