by Maggie Voysest

Gigi and her Gentle Giant… no, not a fairy tale, but yet another horror story

“Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of Gigi’s new man…” Gigi shook her head in dismay, thinking that her life was the very opposite of a fairy tale. Other women met Prince Charming. Or princes disguised as frogs. Gigi met Prince Nightmare. Or trolls and monsters, disguised as princes. Her friend Brie said that her Prince Charmings inevitably turned back into toads, so at least Gigi was not alone in her fantastical encounters.

Would Gigi never learn? How could she have thought that her Gentle Giant would be the one to rescue her captive princess self from this godforsaken and loveless land? She’d had such high hopes, right from the very beginning. He had promised that he’d be the one to rescue her from loneliness. That she could just go ahead and resign from all and any of her dating websites. Because he was THE ONE she’d been looking for, and her search was now officially over. HOW could Gigi still believe in what men, strange men, totally unknown men, lying, cheating, scumbag, married men, told her? Oh Gigi… Well, at least she met something new this time… a narcoleptic man who fell asleep on Gigi… several times!!

Why did Gigi always believe them, with at least a small part of her brain, and a large part of her heart? She’d meet someone, and somewhere in her mind, she could picture the two of them in an unrealistic happily-ever-after, seeing her lonely days and nights as a thing of the past. She knew deep down that the chances of this being true were slim to none, but she saw happy people around her, and she still hoped it could happen to her. Why couldn’t it happen to her? I guess it’s a good thing that she still had hope, that the trolls and monsters hadn’t soured her life, and that she still believed in princes. I just hope that one day she doesn’t give up, and let the monsters win.

How sad it would be if the trolls and monsters made the existence of princes an impossible dream. Impossible dreams. Gigi had always loved that song. She had once played a part in the play of Don Quixote. No, she wasn’t the sweet and beautiful Dulcinea, just like she wasn’t Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Even in high school plays Gigi had no luck. In the Wizard of Oz, she’d been the Tin Woodman (on a quest for a heart since he had none, yet another irony in Gigi’s life). In Don Quixote she was Sancho Panza, that paunchy, uneducated, ever hungry, comic relief, who followed his deluded master through his crazy adventures, fighting windmills that were giants in his mind, on a quest for the love of his sweet Dulcinea, who didn’t even know he existed. Gees, was Gigi’s life pre-ordained from way back then? Was she destined to always be on the search for love and a heart, and never find one? That play and song seemed to parallel Gigi’s life!!

Yet that song had always been one of her favorites, as she was growing up and looking for that unattainable love. Funny now, looking at the words of the songs, how it could almost be the theme song to Gigi’s life:

To dream the impossible dream, (of Gigi ever finding true love)
To fight the unbeatable foe, (fight with love, of course)
To bear with unbearable sorrow, (and still retain sense of humor throughout)
To run where the brave dare not go. (who else would do all that Gigi has done?)

To right the unrightable wrong, (hmmm… can one right all the wrong done?)
To love pure and chaste from afar, (ok Gigi loves from up close, and not so purely)
To try when your arms are too weary, (oh so weary!!)
To reach the unreachable star. (that hard to find true love)

This is my quest, (or Gigi’s, the knightess in shining shoes)
To follow that star (where are you star?)
No matter how hopeless, (and we’ve seen how hopeless it’s been so far)
No matter how far. (and we know Gigi has traveled far in her quest)

To fight for the right (darn it, hasn’t she earned that right?)
Without question or pause, (without questions? I think not… WHY??!!)
To be willing to march (in killer designer shoes of course)
Into hell for a heavenly cause. (ok, maybe not hell, but hellish at times)

And I know if I’ll only be true (Gigi is always true to herself)
To this glorious quest (the quest for true love)
That my heart will be peaceful and calm (oh can you imagine just how calm?)
when I’m laid to my rest. (she’ll try till it she can try no more)

And the world will be better for this, (or at least much more amused)
that one man scorned and covered with scars (or a woman in this case)
still strove with his last ounce of courage. (with her last ounces)
To reach the unreachable star. (that love always out of reach)

Is this not true of Gigi’s life as you’ve come to know it? How she always is reaching out with very weary arms, to follow a quest that seems hopeless and out of reach? And hasn’t Gigi been scorned and scarred so many times, and yet she still strives to reach her unreachable star? I’d better stop, or I’ll be reaching for tissues, as I sing along. Funny that as I write about Gigi, all these parallels pop up about her life, things that can and will be used in her book and someday movie.

Someone asked me recently when Gigi’s memoirs will end. All I could say was that as long as there are men out there, she’ll keep on trying. A new friend of Gigi’s, Charlene, had a great idea for the Gigi and Helen t-shirts that will soon be made on the website that publishes her memoirs. Another friend, Bob, had found the perfect pictures, of old vintage pin-up girls for the Tshirts that will say:

• “As long as there are men to date… there are Gigi and Helen”
• or better yet “You call it dating, we call it research”
• or my personal favorite “Gigi and Helen kiss and kiss and kiss and tell and tell and tell, and tell it all here on T21”

Charlene said one time that reading Gigi’s memoirs was a little like a guilty pleasure of reading someone’s private diary, which of course is a big no-no in a woman’s world. And yet Gigi didn’t want her memoirs to be seen as reading a secret not to be shared. She wanted other women, and men too, to know what she was going through, to laugh and cry and commiserate with her. Because if she wasn’t finding love, true love, then at least she would darn well laugh at what was being thrown in her path. She wanted others to identify with it if they had had the same bad luck; or at the very least sympathize with it, if they were the lucky ones to have a special someone, and hadn’t gone through the online terrors that Gigi continuously went through, or the horrors her friend Helen experienced.

Funny how almost everything that happened to Gigi sooner or later ended up in one of her memoirs. Her friends were now very much aware of this, and loved their comments showing up in future stories. Well, most of her friends did. One had not appreciated being written about, which is why I will not mention his name, or ever write about him again. Which of course there won’t be any need to, since Gigi is no longer talking to him, not after the rather nasty message he left on her phone over a month ago, telling her that who he currently dated was his business and not hers, and how dare she stroke her ego by writing about him… Ego? What ego? Gigi had only mentioned his current dating life to show that it no longer affected her in the slightest… Sheesh!!

Funny how someone once so very important to her was now completely out of her mind and heart, and that she’d been able to totally move on without him. Oh oh, will you now be able to guess now that it’s David I’m talking about? Oops, did that just slip out? So sorry if you’re reading this, David, but you were warned by Gigi that anything you told her could show up in her future memoirs. And really!! Why would you get upset with Gigi, just because she mentioned you were dating someone? She never ever spoke badly of you or blamed you for anything that happened between the two of you. Don’t you understand that writing has become Gigi’s way of finding closure and moving on? And that she was finally able to “write you out of her hair” in her own crazy version of the famous song from “South Pacific” of washing men out of one’s hair. If only if it were that easy to do… So fare thee well David, and never fear. This probably IS the last time Gigi will ever write about you or think about you again, because she is sooooo not returning your phone call.

But back to her Gentle Giant (yes, a GG for Gigi, yet another funny irony in her life!!) . He had found her on just one more online device, one that she no longer searched on herself, but was still a free member of. At this point in time, Gigi had given up on actually looking for a man. She’d decided to leave it up to karma. Gees thanks, karma!! Not very nice of you to send yet another dirt bag into her life. Dirt bag. What a great word. Gigi had heard some of her friends use that word the other day, and had immediately written it down in her Gigi mental files. And funny how Gigi not only believed in karma, she actually knew someone named Karma, who predicted the entry into her life of the Gentle Giant. Unfortunately he didn’t turn out to be what Karma had hoped Gigi would find.

John, or Gentle Giant, as he soon became known on her face book account, was everything that Gigi loved: African American, tall, handsome, and intelligent. He even had some qualities she’d wanted and not always found. He was HUGE… linebacker huge!! What were you thinking? Although, hmmm… No, I was talking about height huge, as in over 6”4’, with a deep Barry White voice. A voice that sent shivers down Gigi’s spine the very minute she heard it. She’d thought it was almost karma, because he appeared in her life right after Karma, a new friend of hers had read her latest Gigi story. Her face book friend Elsie (and president of the Gigi fan club) saw the Giant’s photo, and thought he was scary looking. Oh when will Gigi start listening to her friends’ advice?

Karma was a beautiful African American man himself (of course happily married and off the dating market). He had left a comment on the website, telling her that her latest story had made him feel bad for her, and that he truly hoped that she would find her “Romantic, Black, Knight in Shining Armor to sweep her off her feet.” And just days later, Gigi got an email message from John, who was black, said he was romantic, and was certainly big enough to be able to sweep her off her feet. His message to Gigi was written with nary a mistake in it. Such beautiful command of the English language. He told her everything that he was looking for in a woman, and it was like a Gigi check list:

• Loves to laugh – check (we all know Gigi can find humor, even in her crazy life)
• Loves to travel – check
• Homebody – check
• Beautiful – well, I won’t check this one, but according to him, he thought she was drop-dead gorgeous from her photo (and it was a current photo!!)
• Loves public displays of affection – check
• Loving – check
• Sexy – check
• Sensual – check check
• Good kisser – check check check
• High sex drive – check to the nth degree check
• Likes to go out to dine – check
• a woman who loves to cook for her man – check check, and “please come home to mama,” thought Gigi…

She had to read his message several times. She looked at his profile and saw that he had just joined the website (the one where she’d met her poet and her British guy, so she really should have run like the wind). But no. Gigi stupidly thought she’d give it all just one more try. After all, what did she have to lose? Hmmm…how about more of her dignity, several amazing and huge meals (big men have BIG appetites) she ended up cooking, and just a little bit more of her trust?

So they emailed back and forth, exchanging the usual information on things they liked and didn’t like. He truly sounded like a man who wanted a good woman to pamper and spoil him, to love him and give him lots of love and attention, which is just what Gigi wanted. It was right up her alley. Her forte if you will. Making a man feel special and needed. John said that she sounded like a real woman, and on the phone told her all about his parent’s life long and loving marriage, and how his father told him to look for someone just like his momma.

He told her this on the phone, and the sound of that Barry White voice was almost more than she could handle…just the thought of hearing that voice whisper sweet nothings in her ear. When she told this to John, he said, “Oh no baby. Never sweet nothings. Only sweet somethings for you.” Gigi smiled at this, at the time, of course, and later kicked herself, hard, for believing in him. Pity she didn’t bruise herself hard to remind herself not to fall for these lines ever again. She ignored other bruises to come too… no, don’t worry, not bad ones, just love bruises.

Why is it that Gigi always believed those sweet nothings? Because that’s what they always turned out to be. Sweet nothings. He might have said that he was romantic and loving, and looking to be spoiled and to spoil in return, but he wasn’t, and once those first few weeks went by, it was more of a “Woman, cook my meal for me, and massage my feet” kind of deal, and not the “Baby, let me take you out to dinner tonight, and massage your aching feet.” He’d said that he was tired of the demanding, high-maintenance drama queens, and then ended up by being Mr. drama king himself…

Gigi thought that he was just what she was looking for. They emailed back and forth one day, moved to yahoo messenger, and were soon exchanging phone numbers. He was an impatient kind of person, just like Gigi was, and he asked her to go out for dinner with him, and go to the movies. Now here is where the red flags began to wave like mad, and Gigi just ducked under the flags, and kept on moving forward, blindly running towards another dating disaster.

The first red flag: he told Gigi that he lived in Ann Arbor, about an hour away from her, and that he was still living with his ex girl friend, but that he would soon be moving out, and coming to live much closer to Gigi. I know. I KNOW!! Things heard many a time before, but Gigi had promised herself a long time ago that she would never let one man’s lies and faults make her blame and not believe a new man. She herself had lived with her ex-husband for many a month until she was able to move out. At least with John, she believed that he was free to date, because they called each other and texted very late at night, and first thing in the morning. This would not have been possible with a wife or girl friend… right? Who truly knows in his case.

The second red flag: they made plans to meet the next night for dinner and a movie, and then he told her last minute that he had no money to treat her, that he wasn’t getting paid until the next day. Now Gigi thought long and hard for this, Ok, no. She thought about it for just a minute. But God only knows that she had been on dozens of dates and dinners in which the man had paid for it all. She could definitely afford to pay for this one. And she thought it was a good thing that he simply said they would have to pick another night on the weekend. It was Gigi and her darned impatience that made her tell him that she didn’t mind treating him. He immediately said that he would pay for the next night out.

Third red flag: he arrived late for their first date. They made plans to meet at a Middle Eastern restaurant near by because John had told her that he loved eating lamb. Which was one of Gigi’s favorites. And we know how Gigi believes in signs. So off she went to the restaurant. And there she sat. Alone, for over forty minutes as he arrived late, texting every ten minutes or so to tell her he would be right there. Gigi hated it when people were late. It showed such disrespect and disregard. Especially on a first date when you are supposed to be on your best behavior.

Fourth red flag: he walked in wearing a sweatshirt, baggy pants, and ear phones in his ear. He had not even dressed up for her!! Where, oh where, were the well-dressed men of Gigi’s dreams? Oh right, they were married, like Karma (always beautifully dressed). Why did she even bother waking up to face a reality of under-dressed tardy, rough and scruffy men? And yet, he was such a looker, and he had a killer smile, and a killer body, and these huge yet gentle hands… and yes, Gigi had to wonder what else about him was huge…

Dinner was a success, in that there was a lot to talk about, and never a dull moment. Later on though, Gigi realized that she did all the talking and he did all the asking, but shared very little about himself, other that he had an 8 year old son who lived with his mother, and whom he saw occasionally. He was in real estate, and also worked as a personal trainer at a fitness center. He had these huge arm muscles, and probably could have lifted Gigi like some new kind of weight training machine…in fact… no, that’s skipping to the end of the story… you’ll just have to wait for that part.

He was polite to the waiter, but even still there were more little warning flags that Gigi managed to ignore. He was very particular about every little nitty gritty detail. Everything had to be just so, prepared just this way, with none of that and lots of this, and this instead of that, and an, “Oh no. I can’t eat that pita bread, because it is in those little foldable sandwich bags, and who knows who stuck their fingers in it at lunch time today, taking out one pita bread piece, and leaving the other three behind.” Gigi was eating the pita bread herself, with no problems, and dipping it in her favorite garlic paste, until he put his dirty paper napkin in the middle of the garlic paste! Really!! Guess that was his way of telling her she was not allowed to eat garlic while out on a date with him.

Because another huge warning flag was that he’d actually told Gigi what he expected of her, asking what she was wearing to the date, and giving what Gigi thought at the time were suggestions, and then he told her not to wear any perfume. This of course, after she had sprayed herself with her favorite French perfume Amarige. She had to then wash it all off, because as we well know Gigi likes to please her man.

After dinner, they went to a nearby theater, following each other in the car. He kissed her senseless before she got into her car, and maybe she temporarily lost her mind, because of the things she did later that night, things she might never be able to confess here. It will be totally left to the imagination of her readers.

They made out for a while in the car, and then went into the movies right before it was about to start. Rather than sit down immediately, they stood in the long corridor leading into the movie screen, leaned against each other and did some very heavy making out, the lengths of which they went to shall never be admitted to under any court of law. It was a very flustered Gigi who finally sat down by her Gentle Giant to watch a dramatic movie that he quickly fell asleep to. Evidence one of his narcolepsy.

After the movie it was back to their cars, and more making out. So all in all, Gigi was happy with the date, and the making out made her forget all the warning flags that had flashed ever so merrily. Oh and the last huge warning flag? He asked to borrow $20 to put gas in his car so he could get home, and Gigi actually lent it to him!! Yup. Her friend Helen gets men who buy her rings and laptops. Gigi finds men who borrow money from her…

John told her that he loved receiving phone calls, and she was able to call him several times a day for the next few weeks. He told her that he couldn’t wait to see her again, and that she was everything he’d been looking for. Gigi invited him to come over for dinner a few nights later, to prove to him that a) she was a homebody (ok, albeit one who hated housework) and b) that she loved to cook, and was a very good cook. She innocently asked him what he wanted as a side dish to go with the sherry chicken she was making him, and he actually texted her a list of things NEVER to cook for him, and gave her the following list of what he did want:

• Wheat bread, not white
• Miracle whip, not mayonnaise
• Cranberry juice (the jelly kind)
• Spinach, boiled with butter and salt
• Rice
• Butter, not margarine
• Skim milk, not regular milk

And he didn’t mean one or two of these things. He wanted ALL of them with the chicken. And he ate. And ate. Six pieces of chicken. Two bowls of rice. A whole bag of spinach. Four pieces of wheat bread, slathered with miracle whip, folded in the middle, and placed on the side of the plate, just so. Two huge glasses of milk!!

And then he had two huge helpings of dessert. Gigi-style dessert. Right after eating, without even breaking a sweat. Picking up Gigi and doing things she’d never even dreamed would be possible, since she was not a teeny, weeny little bit of a thing. Her arm ached for days, without her realizing that he’d branded himself on her, with a huge bear-paw like bruise that covered her whole arm… a bruise that guess who saw first: Nick her favorite massage guy!!!

A few days later Gigi had walked into the massage room ahead of Nick when he exclaimed with concern on her bruise. “What bruise,” she’d innocently asked as he gently turned her to look in the hallway mirror. “Oh my God,” said Gigi and blushed from head to toe. Nick told her that only he was allowed to bruise her, and asked if he had to go beat someone up for her. Gigi smiled at the thought of cute, yet little Nick standing up to 6”4′ Gentle Giant to defend her honor. She told Nick not to worry, and that it had been a pleasurable event that had left her bruised, not a violent one.

The second time Gentle Giant fell asleep on her was after this meal and the dessert. But Gigi felt that he’d earned it. She woke him up when it was time for her to go to bed, since they both had to work the next day. She invited him to stay over, waiting to see if he’d stay or run home. He actually wanted to stay, which warmed Gigi’s heart, since she loved snuggling at night in bed. Yet that was not meant to be. As she led the Giant into her bedorom, she heard a loud thwack, and looked back to see him reeling from smashing his head on the door frame. He swore up a storm, asking if she lived in a “*&%$# midget munchkin house.” Well, Gigi is only 5″3′ and he was her very first Giant, suddenly not so gentle anymore.

She had to bite her lip not to laugh. He had to bend forward to enter her room safely. He fell on the bed, passed out, ice cubes melting over his forehead. Despite having told her that he loved to snuggle at night, he spent the whole night, far far away from her, more worried about whether her cats had ever slept on her bed, than holding Gigi. Oh yes, did I forget that bit? It turned out he was allergic to cats, and he had spent the whole night asking Gigi just where her cats would normally sit… as though Gigi kept a tally of places touched by her cats. Gigi lied and said her cats never sat on the couch or slept on her bed. Thank God she had vacuumed and de-haired the place that morning. And don’t men allergic to cats ask that very important question before going over to someone’s house? So it wasn’t her fault!!

Gigi and her Giant spoke all week, and made plans for another meal at her house, And he asked ever so sweetly for her to make the exact same meal. So she made another huge meal, and then waited. And waited. He called at 8 PM saying his ex-wife hadn’t picked up his son yet, but that he should be there in an hour. The hour came and went, and soon he was two hours late, and there were no more phone calls. Now Gigi, the old Gigi, would have called to find out where he was, and when he was coming. The new Gigi would have nothing to do with that. She dumped out the spinach, the cranberry sauce, the disgusting skim milk, and made plans to share the chicken with Helen and their sons the next day. In fact she could have fed a small African country with what he made her cook and waste.

The next morning she got a yahoo message from him, apologizing profusely, saying his ex had never shown up, and he and his son had fallen asleep in front of the television. Now despite the advice given to Gigi on face book (face book was the other way Gigi vented from her life), she decided to give him one chance. Everyone deserves one chance right? Wrong!! But after all, Gigi told herself, she had seen him fall asleep twice, so she knew it was a big possibility he was telling the truth.

That afternoon he called her to see what she was doing. She told him she was taking his meal over to Helen’s to eat. And he hung up on her. He. hung up. On her!! He sent her various angry texts saying how dare she take HIS meal to another man. She quickly cleared up that she was eating it with a girl friend and their sons, thinking that would mollify him.

Oh no it didn’t. He proceeded to text her that she should have saved the meal, and…ready for this? Packed it up to serve as his lunches for the next few days in his busy work filled week. WTF!! Gigi told him (texted him) that he had some nerve. That he had been the one to fall asleep. That she she hadn’t known when she’d seen him again, so she’d fed the meal to her sons and one of her best friends. How dare he be angry with Gigi at that? Whatever happened to the “I promise to make it up to you’s” from that morning?

She didn’t hear from him in two days. And then he sent some little innocuous texts for the next few days, supposedly waiting to see if she’d ask him for forgiveness, ask to see him again, or be the sweet and sexy Gigi he’d liked from the start. Well, he was no longer the sweet and sexy Giant she’d liked so much. And the only thing she did was tell him that the meals and movie were on her, but that she wanted her $20 back. It took her four days of texting, but they finally met in that same movie theater parking lot. He gave her the money, and came up with an excuse on why it was so late. Gigi stopped him with a simple look. Telling him that life was difficult for everyone, but that we needed to live up to our promises and honor them. And she drove away without another word or text, her head held high, and a big smile on her face, glad that for once, she’d gotten her money back and had the last and final word. And that was the end of the land of Gentle narcoleptic Giants. Let him try and fee fi fo fum himself another woman like Gigi who would do all that she had done with him and for him. So there!

To read Part XXIV, see The Adventures of a Thoroughly Confused Gigi – Part XXIV