Column 46: “How can a 45-year-old man be so insecure?” | sex and relationships

Do you know that feeling with the eyes in your back? In the past few days, it’s been nonstop; As soon as I put one foot out the door, I was in the spotlight. It turned out to be the bright blue eyes of the new contractor on the neighbors across the street. And she didn’t stop at the looks. After a long dormant, he hit.

flick

“It looks like you’re also going to a fashion show every day,” the first thing he said when I just got out of bed Thursday morning and walked toward Vomar’s for breakfast. followed by: “I usually look very different. Now I’m covered in dust from renovation here and I’m getting dressed. But trust me I know my way around fashion too. Guy kinda immediately tried common ground to find. Now I take nothing from strangers (properly raised), so I answered politely but curtly; I had tasks to run and didn’t have an instant message to his building and flirting with progress.

golden hands

Of course, Bob the Builder was not easily eliminated. Every time he came down, he would come up with something new. What better lunch spots in my neighbourhood, if I have a drink with the other neighbors and more of this scaffolding talk. Then he threw his whole life story at me from scratch.

It was called Aeneas. He was half Turkish, half Dutch and had the brightest blue eyes ever (I’ve been drawn to dark eyes my whole life, but they even impress me). He was 45 years old, divorced, and already had two children. He lived in Castricum, on the beach, where I definitely had to go with him to catch a breath of fresh air. And Ennis was a contractor, and according to him, he had quite a few golden hands.

win win?

You can go two ways with that. But where I first saw a rather stupid handyman, I suddenly discovered opportunities. I’ve been wanting to remodel my bedroom for a while and maybe I can turn it on for me. I didn’t pay much attention to his person, but getting a discount in these troubled times by courting the builder wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

‘I get hired a lot on your street. I oversaw a big project opposite here six months ago. Don’t you have any plans for renovation?’, he started on his own. I’ve already seen my construction project costs cut in half. We exchanged numbers and I sent him some sketches of my plans. It’s hard to appreciate. I must see for myself,’ he sent to suggest taking a bite to eat in the brasserie on the corner later that evening.

Twilight Zone

I shared some pictures (my project isn’t that complicated anymore) and kept meeting up. But in case he didn’t provide me with his appointment plans, he didn’t come up with a build plan or price. Meanwhile, I could feel his bright blue lights on me and on my windows and after showering I didn’t even dare run to the wardrobe without my bathrobe. All sorts of proposals popped up on my screen (snacks, sailing a boat, motorcycling), but none of them had to do with my dream locker or the new wall I was preying on.

contractor with concern

I reacted more and more indolently and shouted his messages more and more to get attention. Every time I didn’t answer, I got a flood of five times the number of messages. Enes went from a confident entrepreneur to a desperate giveaway of pent-up emotions. “why do not you answer?” “No one sees me”. How can a 45-year-old be insecure? And this guy was standing at my door literally every day, eh… across the street, but you’d walk for him.

The way to sneak into the house

At some point, when I started a shortcut through the garage to go around Ennis, I decided it had to be over. Then no closet compartment. On the other hand, Enes was confronted with his unstable behavior in the app. He immediately gave up, promising never to disturb me again, and I had to rely on his twinkling blue eyes. However, Ennis did not guarantee himself. That night my phone was red hot with apps excessive in drama. I know some of my girlfriends have such antics out of insecurity, but I didn’t see that coming from an adult man.

Constructive diminishing message

In order not to drive his ego further to ruin, I sent him one last constructive message out of a kind of pity: that he should believe in himself and that jobs and ladies would line up for him. Then I prevented him and his desperate project towards me. I can be too nice sometimes out of manners, but: he’s not his handyman to me, and I’m not his mental trainer. And I’m sure I’ll find someone else who wants to come over and remodel my bedroom, Enes, take it from me, contractor!

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