I think what it really was
was that she had come from a rather wild family of rednecks, the sort that had that reputation around town, had been a stripper and a coke freak, and saw herself as damaged goods that no decent middle-class guy would really want if he knew what she was really like. As I said, I took everything she said in stride and was perfectly fine with it, as she was now working a mainstream job and raising her kids and generally being someone I wouldn't have an issue with hanging with. She saw me as this ideal guy and couldn't understand why I would be trying to get involved with someone as sketchy as herself- and that's what was making her crazy. She couldn't buy that I liked her for herself, as she had never had a man really express interest in her as anything but a pair of perky tits and a gorgeous ass. So, when presented with what she had always dreamed of having, she found that she couldn't handle it- like a battered old hooker suddenly confronted with a unicorn. She felt unworthy.

It startled the hell out of me, to say the least, and hurt at first- until I started seeing the humor in it and realized that she had far greater issues than I would really want to tackle anyway. Then it stopped being hurtful and became hilarious.

She was followed by the Postal Worker, and then the Mad Stripper (who I've spoken of before here and here.)

And that was when I quit dating.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Mon 26 May 2008, 13:47, Reply)