I Kind Of Hope Your Wife Sees This

Mrs. Mississippi will not find out from me what a dirtbag her husband is I suppose.  But there’s a secret part of me that thinks Jeff From Mississippi should get dumped square on his ass.  Since I’m not the kind of person who would actually send these to Mrs. Mississippi (and be the one to ruin her life), I figure I’ll just put them here for all the internet to see. Hi internet, read on!

And so it begins…
Subject: Is this Leah from [insert bride’s name here] wedding?
Sent: Monday, September 07, 2009 10:07 AM
If so gimme a buzz back so I can apologize for disappearing last night.  If not, sorry for the spam.

My first mistake was ever knowing Jeff From Mississippi to begin with. But my second mistake was replying to his email:

Subject: RE: Is this Leah from [insert bride’s name here] wedding?
Sent: Tue, 8 Sep 2009 15:07:53 -0400
It is indeed that Leah.  I didn’t even notice a disappearing act. It was nice to run into you again.

And of course, my pretending that everything was okay (and that stupid habit of being polite just for the sake of being polite) just made it seem to Jeff like he should just email away with all his innermost thoughts:

Subject: RE Is this Leah from [insert bride’s name here] wedding?
Sent: Tuesday, September 08, 2009 1:50 PM
Ah well perhaps it was just me then heh.  I kept trying to finish a conversation with someone so I could go flirt with you but I’m really not very good at cutting chats off.
Perhaps I could get another opportunity when in town again.. it was great seeing you as well.  I’ll even go so far as to admit that I *hoped* you might be there.  Imagine my initial chagrin when you feigned ignorance of me.. 🙂
By the way, we were at Dulcinea’s, and it was <gasp> 2.5 years ago.  Time does fly.  When we wound up there again after the wedding I was like, aha!
Why’d you leave so early?

As a sidenote, the one person who has seen these emails had the following thoughts:

“This dirtbag gets even slimier the more I think about it. Why was he acting all coy about possibly meeting YOU before, when he clearly knew all along?…Because he fancies himself a man of mystery, and intrigue is his foreplay weapon of choice? Then again, why am I taken aback by his deceptive prowess, when his entire life is a big fat pair of skeezy pants-on-fire…What are the community property laws like down in Mississippi? I hope the wife and/or same-sex lover gets everything,” are her condensed thoughts on the matter.

So I left it alone, lest Jeff From Mississippi attempt to groom me into mistress material.  But how lovely it was when, unsolicited, I received another email:

Subject: Actually not a stalker
Sent: Wednesday, September 09, 2009 3:05 PM
After having a chance to consider my email yesterday to you, I realized that I probably came off fairly stalkeresque.  I’ve never been accused of such a thing and definitely don’t want to start now, so I’m really sorry about that.
I seriously did enjoy seeing you again, you strike me as a very interesting and fun person.  As an added bonus, you apparently have pretty wild tales to tell on a regular basis, which always makes for good conversation.
Anyway, I’d certainly understand if you are keen on avoiding me after my rather boorish email yesterday, so this is the last you’ll hear of me unless you are willing to give me a chance to show off my rather fun and normally unstalkerlike side.  Just let me know.
Hope life is treating you well..

Immediate thought: only a stalker would send an email expressing he’s not a stalker.  Second most immediate thought: Give you a chance to show off your rather fun and normally unstalkerlike side? What’s your wife think about that?

But then it turns out that Jeffy did his homework.  After sending emails to my work address he also sent one to a personal account that hasn’t been used it so long I had to clean out the cobwebs to even find his email.  But there it was:

Subject: Hey there
Sent: Mon, Sep 7, 2009 11:30 am
I’m sorry about last night– I got caught up talking to an old friend and next thing i knew you were leaving.  We didn’t really get a chance to catch up.
I just looked– it’s been friggin 2.5 *years* since we last hung out.  That’s crazy talk.
Write me back if you get this, this address is apparently very old.

The Jeffster is damned and determined to make a mistress out of me. And I’m damned and determined to never ever see his face again.

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