The Green Grass Syndrome

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. I really hate that proverb. Why? Because it’s true. No matter how good you treat them, some women always think they can do better.

Julie and I had a really good relationship despite the fact that we had met under some questionable circumstances, or more accurately, circumstances involving our questionable friends. Julie had a knack for hanging out with women who had no problem blowing some guy out in the parking lot or banging some guy in the night club bathroom. And my buddy Kyle had no problem being ‘some guy’.

My pack of degenerates first encountered her tribe of misfits at the mandatory weight station for all middle-aged divorce casualties, Casablanca Nite Club. Kyle and I were making our way around the dimly lit meat market when Kyle stumbled over Lindsey, passed out on the floor next to her table. Jessica was playing a mean game of ‘Blind Leading the Blind’ while trying to pick her up and Julie was sitting across the high-top table, seemingly unconcerned and entirely unaffected by the entire mess. She stuck out her hand and smiled, “Hi, I’m Julie. I picked her up the last time.”

After an evening of drinks, dancing and assorted sexual favors, all of us wandered over to Steak n’ Shake before heading home. Julie and I were really hitting it off. We had spent the last few hours at Casablanca’s talking, laughing and marveling at the utter lack of morals exhibited by our friends in such a public setting. Now we were talking, laughing and marveling at the utter lack of money our friends had to pay for their meals. After watching a parade of lint covered change slowly accumulate on the table, I said, “Fuck this” and snatched up everyone’s checks and gave them to the waitress along with my credit card. Suddenly, everyone was all offended as if I had pissed in their Wheaties. “Fine, then give me your money.” Here comes the change parade again. Screw this, I signed my charge slip and walked outside with Julie in tow.

Little did I know at the time, but my display of impatience was a big hit with her. In fact, it helped to charm the pants off her the very next night. Let’s just say that our date could not have gone any better, and we’ll leave it at that.

The first symptoms of the Green Grass Syndrome appeared the following week on our second date. We had double dated with Kyle and Lindsey for dinner and after, we were all going to go to Julie’s house for drinks. Julie and I were in my car, and Kyle and Lindsey were following us in his car. As soon as we got out of the restaurant parking lot, Julie asked me if I minded that she dated other people. Surprised, all I said was that I had no control over what she did, but I don’t share well with others. She kept half-assed asking me about it the rest of the way to her place and I kept giving her the same answer. By the time we got to her house, I was pissed about it because I liked her. In fact, I liked her a lot. I didn’t want to date anyone else, and I was hoping she felt the same way about me. But that was apparently not the case.

After a few drinks with Kyle and Lindsey, Julie asked me to stay the night, and we headed back to her bedroom. Kyle made up some excuse about not being able to drive home, and Lindsey chimed in with a “me too”, so they were camping out in Julie’s living room. By the time Julie and I went back to her bedroom, I was still pissed about our conversation on the way to her house and wanted a direct answer. So I asked a direct question, “Do you want to date other people or not? Yes or no.” She looked at me, paused and said hesitantly, “Yes, I think I do.” I gave her a calm, simple reply, “Then I’m outta here.”

I walked out of the bedroom, down the hall and past Kyle and Lindsey rolling around in the dark on the floor in the middle of the living room. Kyle’s voice sounded muffled, from God knows what, as he asked me, “Where in the hell are you going?” I replied, “I’m outta here,” as I closed the front door behind me.

Kyle called me the next morning to congratulate me on screwing up his night with Lindsey because the two of them spent the next three hours consoling Julie. He said she was crying her eyes out because I had left. He told me that she was crazy about me and was devastated when I walked out. She really didn’t want to date anyone else. She was just scared of the fact she had fallen for me so quickly.

My dose of shock therapy put the Green Grass Syndrome in remission for about three years. During that time, things were pretty good. We travelled, spent holidays together; we even talked about marriage for a couple of minutes. But, sadly, Julie eventually succumbed and the relationship had to be put down, mostly because of some dick-head with shinier toys and a really good fake life on Match.com.