Love and Danger in the Wild Wild West 

A few years back I lived in Scottsdale Arizona, a beautiful crazy ass place that is a biological Ecotone. A place continuously witnessing transitions between different communities: human, plant, animal, geographical formations, and so on. Once a desert town, Scottsdale is now replete with palm trees, golf courses, swimming pools, and hot tubs. My home was within striking distance of wonderfully named places such as Paradise Valley, Cave Creek, and Surprise.

A variety of men with unusual personalities abounded on Match.com. But none was more unique than the outlaw dentist Dave I briefly dated, although at least two came a close second.

I’ll start the story by telling “y’all” that multitudes of dentists work in Arizona without licenses, many of them having to go on the run when the law tried catching up with them.

Dave, my dentist friend, slept four hours a night and looked as if he struggled with anorexia. He told me he hiked Camelback Mountain every morning, a mountain famous for the deaths and daring rescues of uninitiated hikers. He would take pictures of himself while climbing, so I guess that meant he was telling me the truth.

Doing my due diligence I googed the guy and saw a website for a very snazzy dental practice, with beautiful blond hygienists and Dave looking quite handsome, while sporting various different hair colors. There were many positive patient reviews. Altogether, in his day it appeared he cut a striking figure, although, now in his 60’s, he was weather beaten and overly rough around the edges.

Dave told me he was using Match.com to meet potential dance partners. He was intensively learning ballroom dance with a private teacher in the heart of Old Scottsdale. Yes, yes, yes!!! I studied ballroom dance for years, game on!

We took some private lessons together. He bought me a beautiful dress for a dance party and arranged for me to borrow a pair of expensive dance shoes. At the party everyone seemed to adore him. The night was memorable, especially since he apparently did not want any of my kisses.  

A few days later, we had a lovely lunch at an outdoor Natural Food market, bordering on an organic farm. As per usual, Dave loved talking and listening to my dating problems. At the time I was still “in love” with a gentleman who had eventually come clean to me he had been into the BDSM scene for 45 years and was also polyamorous (I had to look up what these words even meant).

In the midst of all this Jim blurted out “Why are you going on about this character when sitting right in front of you is a guy who really cares about you?” Oh dear, and yes I really am that naïve.

He then said he was convinced I was an alcoholic because all my stories about BDSM man involved me having alcohol. And yes that was certainly true. I loved dancing in clubs while having one or two adult beverages, which was what BDSM man and I typically did together.

Dave said he would love to take me to his Home Base AA meeting. So, next thing I knew we were barreling down the highway, back to Scottsdale, where his Home AA Group was located. The meeting was great, many compelling stories were told. When the meeting ended Dave began bounding up to people for conversation, trying to give them a shuck and jive routine. He cleared the room quickly and was a sight to behold as he marched his tall body around the room. He was festooned with silver and turquoise jewelry and those rawhide bracelets and amulets that Johnny Depp likes to wear.   Gorgeous leather cowboy boots completed the outfit.   

Meanwhile I was trying to plan my escape. I could have walked the 5 or 6 miles home on my own except it was Arizona in summer, when the heat of the sun pounds mercilessly down on the concrete.

Once in the car, Dave continuously and mechanically spewed forth AA maxims, highly encouraging me to join the program. The car ride was tense. My experience of fear alternated from wondering if he would somehow drive off the road to fearing he eventually try to prevent me from leaving the car. Luckily I’ve had all kinds of self-defense and weight lifting training, so I would probably have ended up killing him if he even tried to breathe on me.

As we neared my home he made his final pitch. So I told him he was probably right, I probably was a raging alcoholic, even though I had only had one or two glasses of wine in his presence.  I said I was experiencing so much agitation in listening to him that I guessed I was not ready to face the truth about myself.

 Once home, I was out of the car before it even stopped rolling. Moments later he texted that he thought I was a lovely person but he could not consider dating me until I had made a commitment to sobriety and attending AA meetings. I was happy to receive that text, because I do not like the thought of humiliating another human being. In his case, it would have been way too easy to hurt him. And what would have been the point?