Despite the Kehar Singh mess, I did not lose faith and agreed to having friends set me up, which is how I met Cat Boy.
Now, when you live in Minnesota where January temperatures can hit -20 degrees Fahrenheit, having friends in warm placs is a must! And it was over one of my winter trips, during a Mexican dinner that my friends introduced me to Cat Boy.
Before meeting Cat Boy, I was warned that he was heavy set, bald, had two cats and a Jain. Jainism is an ancient Indian religion that practices non-violence for all living forms, not only avoiding meat/seafood, but also root vegetables like garlic and ginger. So they tend to be VERY vegetarian. But they are also a very learned people, which was attractive about Cat Boy.
Dinner was pleasant and after I returned to Minnesota Cat Boy emailed and expressed interest in getting to know me. Although I found his weight issue slightly bothersome, I decided against being superficial and penned back a pithy note. We began emailing, chatting and meeting up again. In time I learned he worked in finance, had an annoying fidgeting habit, and a card carrying member of P.E.T.A. He did not think People Eating Tasty Animals was very funny. Yet I could not help thinking it peculiar that an adult male in his mid-30s had the cremated remains of his first cat in a box in his house.
A few months past and we were in a long distance relationship, chatting three times a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays and one of the days on the weekend. Since I was two hours ahead of him, he’d leave work, go to Taco Bell for vegan bean burritos and call me. This probably sounds unromantic, planning and scheduling, but it suited both Cat Boy and me.
I was never “in love with him” and didn’t find him attractive. And I certainly never wanted to tear off his clothes and make out with him like a drunken co-ed. But I thought, in terms of a life partner (I know, oh puke!) he’d be all right. Until ...
One evening in our fourth month, Cat Boy informed me he had cleared out some space in his closet for my shoes. Okay, I thought. I mean, we had never talked about getting married or living together. And whenever I visited him I never stayed with him --- which should have been a sign. Then Cat Boy he asked me if I wore black pants at home. I said no. Then he said, if I did, he had lots of lint brushes so I could roll the cat hair off my clothes. Again, I said, okay. Then Cat Boy stated, like he was running for President of the United States of America, if we married I could not keep meat in the house.
I don’t know how much you know about India and Indians, but each state has its’ language, food, culture, dance and a strong identity. Which I can only presume makes governing India a potential nightmare. But anyway, my family is Punjabi, hailing from the state of Punjab. For centuries we have been defending India against invaders, eating meat, dancing bhangra, farming and consuming vast quantities of alcohol. We are loud, gregarious, throw fabulous parties, and have earned the reputation of not being as intellectually advanced as other Indians.
Since my childhood dinners consisted of lamb biryani and tandoori chicken, asking me to agree to this, no meat in the house was not only impossible, but unreasonable (I have an unhealthy love for bacon). Cat Boy did come up with a peace offering --- I could eat all the bacon and fish tacos I wanted … in restaurants. By now I was seething. It would never occur to me to ask someone to change for me. So I could not believe that the same respect was not returned. In that moment I was pretty sure no one ever told the warrior goddess Durga where and when she could eat bacon! And this was the final straw.
In order to make this relationship work with Cat Boy I was going to have to:
(1) Move and leave my friends and family
(2) Live with cats and lint roll brushes
(3) Have sex with a sedentary fat man with high blood pressure
(4) and sneak out of the house have a contraband breakfast meats?
Yeah … I don't think so. I was not sad when that relationship ended.