House of Representatives

Have you ever looked at your significant other and asked yourself, "Who are you?" What happened to the person you met 3, 6, 12 months ago? Where is the guy who called all the time and wanted to spend every free second in your company? Where is the girl that dressed to kill and shaved her legs on a regular basis? It looks like the person you initially started dating. It even smells like them. But unfortunately, it's just not that person. I hate to be the one to break this to you, folks. But that person never existed. They were just a phantom. You didn't fall for the person that stands before you right now. You fell for their representative.
The first time I heard about this representative concept was about 2 years ago when I started dealing with Mr. Way Too Into Himself. He made it a point to tell me that he was not sending out his representative to meet me. What I see is what I get. What I saw was a guy who spent a bit too much time trying to figure out which tie matched his salmon pink shirt, and what I got was a guy who flirted with another chick right in front of my face on Valentine's Day. I don't know how the two correlate, so I'm not sure if I should've seen that debacle coming. But that's neither here nor there. Ever since then I've given a whole lot more thought to the idea that when two people first begin dealing with each other they aren't really dealing with each other. The representatives are sent out in place of the actual person.
It looks something like this. A man and woman meet. They find each other attractive and decide they want to get to know each other better. The man calls all the time. He is attentive, sensitive, giving, all the things a woman needs him to be in order to for her to fall butt crazy in love with him. In turn the woman is always gorgeous, in training to be the iron chef, and the coolest most non clinging chick a guy has ever met. After both parties are past the point of no return, something happens. Dude stops calling 3 times a day. All of a sudden weekends are for football and you don't exist. All of the cute things he used to do when he first met you don't get done anymore. In the blink of an eye old girl has traded in skirts and dress and heels for sweats, t-shirts, and flip flops. She gives the leg stubble some time to really sprout before she shaves it, if she shaves it at all. And almost overnight, she forgets where the kitchen is. Both parties are suddenly aware that the person they are involved with is NOT the person they met. The end result is incessant fighting, whining, and nagging.
People send out their representative because they know that no one in their right mind would willingly date them if they knew what they were really like. The representative is there to do the dirty work. They're the one that gets Mr. or Ms. Wonderful to fall and fall hard. They're the one who hammers out the relationship contract. And once the unsuspecting party has signed on the dotted line with their heart, the old bait and switch happens. The representative is gone and the real person takes their place. So basically you're stuck with a relationship that isn't even worth the experiences it was built on. Yes my friend, you've been hoodwinked, bamboozled, led astray, and run amock. Sucks to be you.
But don't feel bad. I've been there. More times than I care to count. Hell, now that I think about it, I've sent out my representative on numerous occassions. Anyone who knows me is well aware that shaving my legs rarely makes it onto the priority list. However, if I've got a date with a nice tall piece of man candy you better believe my legs will be as smooth as a baby's butt. I do realize the unfairness that the representative brings, so I've made it a point to never shave again, so that no man can say that I've misled him.
On my end, I've become so familiar with the representatives that men send up to bat for them, I can spot them a mile away. I've now adopted a warning that I give to all men I deal with. If you cannot or will not keep up a certain positive behavior for more than several weeks, don't start doing it in the first place. If you don't like the phone, don't call me every night and talk to me for hours on end. Women are creatures of habit and once you get us used to something, we're gonna come to expect it. The second you stop doing that thing, we're going to think that something is wrong and nag you without rest until that behavior resumes. Men don't want to hear it and we don't want to do it, but we're forced to. If you don't like spending all your free time with me, don't even start doing it in the first place. The second you're unavailable, we're gonna go into clingy mode. Once again, neither party wants that, so don't set it up so it will occur.
How about we make a pact. Guys you promise not to make us think you're prince charming and ladies, let's promise not to make them think we're June Clever and Heather Hunter all rolled in one. Now, let the dating commence.