I’m a woman. I’m a woman who has dated men before meeting the love of my life. I’m a woman who has not moved from the town I was born and raised in, and therefore, I allow myself the opportunity to have inopportune run-ins with ex-boyfriends. So really, I shouldn’t have been surprised that eventually, I’d cross paths with a former flame.
Except, my former flames sure know how to stay hidden. I’ve had two long-term relationships before meeting my husband, and both men still live in the city. Yet, neither of them are on Facebook, Twitter or any other social media sites that would allow for mild cyber-stalking, which is of course completely acceptable and arguably a right as an ex-girlfriend. Of course, you’ve probably guessed by now that we do not stay in touch, which on some days is a shame, as it would relieve me from my online-creepfests and the disappointing results.
So I guess you can say that even though I have ex-boyfriends, they are somewhere in the city – doing their thing, living their life – just as I am. And as such, they are normally the furthest thing from my mind, and I’ve learned that the odds of a chance encounter are very low. Low, but not zero.
Cue the embarrassment.
It happened last week. I was rushing around, trying to juggle a thousand things like I always do. And, I was particularly stretched thin as I had been sick the week before – hence, I was in catch-up mode for everything from blogging to grocery shopping to getting my hair done. Last Wednesday, I was scheduled to host a private shopping event with AIR MILES for Toronto’s top influencers, and I sorely needed to have my roots touched up. So, I did something I don’t normally do; I scheduled a hair colour appointment for the very same day as the event….