Dear Diary,

These past couple of weeks I have lost what little faith I had left in men.Well, that’s a lie – I’m still a hopeless romantic. But still, some shit has gone down…and it involves a married man. Let me start at the beginning though.

Last weekend I went to a party with people I used to work with. One of the guys from the show had added me on Facebook after I left the job, and had been messaging me while I was in Portugal. I knew he was married, so just figured he was being friendly. When I got to the work party, I spent a bit of the evening talking to him and his wife, but she had to get up early, and went home. We continued drinking, and I told him and one of my good friends, Missy, about the guy with the amazing Condo. After the night we spent together… sexless… he had emailed me, asking if I wanted to come over again to watch a movie. The married guy said that meant he probably just wanted to get in my pants, and said that was a common desire among my former male coworkers. Who knew? He also kept saying other "nice" things to me that a married man just should not say.

In my drunken state I naively thought he was just being nice. When the three of us were the last ones left from our shindig, I decided it was time to roll on home. As I hailed a cab, he asked where I lived. "I’m right near there," he said, and got in too. On the drive uptown I talked more about the guy who’d asked me over. He seemed to be very touchy as he listened to me talk. When we pulled in front of my place he said "Can I ask you a favour?" "Sure," I replied. "Can I kiss you?" "…You’re MARRIED!" I shouted, shocked. He leaned forward, practically mid sentence, and kissed me. Unfortunately, it was actually pretty good. Probably because it was so wrong. I got out of the cab and shut the door.A couple of days later I was supposed to go see Condo Guy, but I was having second thoughts. Mr. Married Man was right about one thing, it was obviously a booty call, and I was looking for something more than that finally. "What to do, what to do?", I was thinking, just as Goldilocks came online. He was friends with Condo Guy, and also an ex-lover of mine, so I decided to ask him what he thought. He insisted on staying out of it, but did give a thumbs up as far as character went, saying he was a good guy. Ok, why not. I texted my former dance partner, and said I’d be over around 8.

When I got there, he had rented a movie and opened a bottle of wine.Half way through the flick and the second bottle, we started to make out. That quickly moved to the bedroom, which obviously led to sex. Damn my weak will. We then went to a bar, got even MORE drunk, the headed BACK to his lovely condo to hump some more. I never heard from him again.

Well, that’s not true, we exchanged one friendly email, but clearly, he just wanted to fuck me. These friggin’ boobies o’ mine. I heard rumour that he was a boob man…which was proven with the evidence he left on mine. The next morningI noticed they were completely covered in hickeys. Ridiculous. So, what have I learned this week?

1) Maybe I should stop looking for a relationship, because even a wedding ring won’t stop men from being jerks.

2) Don’t have sex at least until date number five. Ok, three.