Maybe I emptied his panty drawer into the crisper bin.

Welcome Future Minions! Help yourself to another tale of online dating woe courtesy of your most lovely future leader.

This future ex-boyfriend I met on a personals site we'll call...Wahoo. Again, a seemingly normal guy. With two notable exceptions.

First, he was a nevernude. He wore jockeys AND a pair of swim trunks with the mesh liner to bed. And a t-shirt. He couldn't shower if his cat was in the bathroom with him. He took his clothes into the bathroom and immediately dressed upon exiting the shower.

Okay, so once or twice I snuck in while he was in the shower and stole his clothes. And towel. And hand towel.

And maybe once or twice I hid all his little colored briefs--brighty tighties, I call 'em. Maybe I emptied his man-panty drawer into the crisper bin in the bottom of his refrigerator where he'd never think to look for them.

(It was only years later while watching Arrested Development (brilliant but cancelled) that I learned it was a Very Serious And Real Condition.)

Here's the other notable exception to his seeming normality.

He liked to wear women's shoes. Liked it meaning it gave him a big stiffy.

And the way I discovered this was I was poking around his closet looking for my Christmas presents, and I found these thigh-high cream colored glove leather stiletto boots. Big ones--like size 13. And I came out of the closet and said "Honey? Who's shoes are these?"

(Him) "They're mine."

(Me) ...

(Me) "Do you have other women's clothes to go with them, or is this it?"

(Him) "Just shoes."

(Me) ...

(Me) "Okay."

And it WAS okay. I get it--some guys get turned on by not-your-usual-sort-of-thing. In the grand scheme of things, wearing women's shoes is pretty vanilla. It's not like he owned a series of hamsters or anything.

So how did it end, o wonderous open-minded goddess? Well, I'll tell you. He bought a motorcycle.

Let me clarify. He bought a crotch-rocket. Never mind that he said he couldn't afford to drive up and see me, so I had to come see him every weekend. Never mind that the insurance and storage was going to cost him an arm and a leg.

He didn't know how to ride a motorcycle. He had never even sat on the back of one.

So I think the moment our relationship took a turn for the worse was when I let him know how ridiculous and asinine it was to buy a $10,000 motorcycle when he didn't even know how to turn on the ignition.

Apparently, he took offense to this.

Meh. I was running out of hiding places anyway.