I didn’t just dangle my toes into the dating world after separating from my husband, I dove in head first.

I don’t necessarily recommend this tactic, it just seems to be the way I’m doing things these days: with my eyes closed and a cavalier attitude. That is, until I smack my head against cement and say, “Ouch! Why the hell did I think that was a good idea?”

The first crash came quickly and suddenly.

One day I was stating I wasn’t ready to date yet and the next day I walked into a friend’s living room and saw Trouble. My soul sister, and dearest friend who has known me since I was 14, stopped midstride, looked at me, and said, “He’s for you.” And then we both said, “Oh shit.”

It was in the 90s that evening and when not being captivated by what Trouble was saying, I kept thinking, “Why doesn’t he take off his shirt rather than complain about how hot it is?”

He never did, so a few days later, I called him. We hung out a few times, I broke all of my, “I’ll never do that” pre-divorce rules, and I was captivated. Not only by his mind, but by his body, which I thankfully was finally able to see.

I called him Saturday morning to see what time he was going to come over to ravage me, or vice versa, and he said, “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Do this, with you. It will only end badly and I’m a mess and you’re clear and….” he babbled on. I didn’t catch most of what he said, because I was stuck on “this.” I didn’t know what “this” was, but for the time being I thought it was going to be physical. And I thought a man would be thrilled to hear that was all I wanted, but instead I was getting blown off.

“You can’t be my booty call?” I asked.

“Apparently I can’t,” he said.

Still in disbelief, I had to call my sister for a reality check.

“What!” she screamed. “What’s happened to the world as I knew it? It’s been a while, but back when I was dating if a girl wanted to get some, a girl got some.”

“I know,” I said. “ I thought it was the one constant you could always rely on.”

I walked around in a stupor for a day and then became captivated again. This time with a Greek man, which is double trouble. After three nights of talking about sex, beautiful mermaids, and the stars, I asked him if I could kiss him. And he said no.

“Wow, twice in as many weeks,” I muttered as he babbled about boundaries and the huge transition I was in. As soon as he left, I called my friend Angelina.

After several, “No ways!” and “You’re making this up,” she grew contemplative. Then she asked, “Do you know where you can get any roofies?” I laughed so hard I nearly fell off my chair, but she was dead serious. So I wracked my brain for possible drug dealers. Unfortunately, I don’t know any.

In less than two weeks, I went from being happy being alone to thinking about drugging guys so they’d kiss me. What’s happened to the world as I knew it?

Corbin Lewars (corbinlewars.com) is the founder of Reality Mom (www.realitymomzine.blogspot.com), author of Creating a Life (Catalyst Book Press, 2010) and the sexy mommy-lit book Swings (out for submission). She lives in Ballard with her two children.