When running from a bad relationship, I have learned one important thing. When you run, you will never run with money in your bag, and if you have a credit card when you run, it will be maxed out and unusable. When you run, it will never be the day before payday when you do it.
Further, you will never run with the right shoes on. You will be wearing killer shoes from hell when you make your grand departure. If it’s cold, you will be wearing a sleeveless tank top and Bermuda shorts. If it’s warm, you will run in your fleece lined jogging suit. I guarantee it.
For whatever reason, I have found myself wandering, no place to go that was safe, and no money on hand. Seems like a bad situation to be in, doesn’t it? I can assure you, it is. But, believe it or not, I have always had men come to my rescue. One man paid for a motel room for me (and did not request that he share it with me). One man drove me to San Jose from San Francisco, because I could stay with my friend there. One man invited me to stay at his apartment with no strings attached. I did so, and I was quite safe and unmolested in the experience. These were not men I knew. They were just random guys who wanted to help me.
There must be something about a woman who is clearly distressed that brings out the best in some people. I’m sure I have been lucky not to have encountered a rapist, a serial killer or worse. Still, I can’t help but wonder what it is about seeing a crying woman, hair askew, eye make up smeared, inappropriately dressed, (and wearing the wrong shoes), that makes a man pull over a car, a bus, or a motorcycle and walk over to you to find out what is wrong.
When I am not running for my life, I’m something of a fashion plate. I have good clothes and wear them well. I’m fastidious about my appearance and I dress tastefully. A lot of men tend to look at me, but not approach me. What is it that makes a devastated looking woman seem so much more approachable?
Frankly, when I see people crying and unkempt, I tend to avoid them because I don’t like messy situations. Whatever it is, I probably can’t be of much help. Also, I might fear that the person was mentally ill and then perhaps even a danger to me.
So when I’ve been “on the lam” if you will, I know I look like I very well could be goofy. I can only come to the conclusion that goofy, messy women do not turn men off. In fact, it makes me wonder why I didn’t spend more of my youth being goofy and messy. (Of course, one might say that anyone who had to run from relationships as often as I did might be a tad goofy after all.)