On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check out TheGloss dating page.

I had actually conveniently forgotten about The Marrying Guy. It was only because of my mother’s friendly reminder this past weekend that it all come flooding back to me.

I wasn’t looking for anyone serious when The Marrying Guy came in to my life. He was actually the first person I had dated who already had a couple marriages under his belt — a fact I’d find out by date number three. When I agreed to go on a date with him via a work connection we had, I knew he had been married once before, but since he was still young, at only thirty, I wasn’t too concerned. Some people fall in love and get caught up in the moment and actually try their hand at the whole marriage thing. Although it wasn’t for me, I wasn’t about to fault him. And it wasn’t like he had kids or anything.

The first two dates went well. He wasn’t terribly boring or terribly exciting, and his conversational skills, although leaving much to be desired, were OK. I knew I wasn’t going to end up with him, but we’d go to dinner, he’d pick up the tab and it was a break from the usual men who have come in and out of my life. He actually pulled out the chair for me when we went to resturants and the rest of that type of chivalrous stuff that most women assume died out in the 1950’s.

By the third date, I had decided to give him one more following date to see if there could possibly be any chemistry, but we never made it to a third date. After dinner as we walked toward a bar a few blocks away, he told me that he had been married not just once, but twice before. Once seemed fair, but twice, considering his age just seemed to be a little much. Not only that, but he confessed that he “loved getting married.” He did not say he loved marriage, mind you, but actually loved the physical part of ceremony and party. Why? Because, to use his words, it’s the happiest day of your life. Lucky him! He had two “happiest” days in his life!

Once we reached the bar he started asking me if I had planned out my wedding. Honestly, I had as a kid back when I was quite certain my bridal party would be in lavender and I’d get married barefoot on a warm beach somewhere, but that had been when I was 10 or so, and the thought really hadn’t crossed my mind since. But The Marrying Guy was more than excited to tell how he wanted his next, where it would be held and how he thought he’d give his other brother the opportunity to be the best man the next time around. Living in NYC where men wanting to get married is a rarity, I was intrigued by his compulsive need to get married again and so quickly. He even suggested that he could see us getting married at a glamorous hotel somewhere on the coast! It was mid-way through a third date! I was not planning on marrying him; if anything I was planning on running out the door as fast as I could.

While part of me was intrigued as to why he had chosen tulips over other flowers for the bridesmaids to carry — yes, he had decided the attire of the bridal party — I started to realize that I really need to get home. It was just all too bizarre and frightening. I politely excused myself by telling him I was suddenly feeling sick and he was kind enough to walk me home, but not before telling me he’d be calling me later to check in on my status. He did call, and he called several times a day for the next week or so before I finally mustered the necessary courage to tell him to take his marrying ways elsewhere, as I was not prepared to be wife number three.

Since I no longer work at the job and he eventually went someplace else, too, I have no one to confirm whether or not he got married again or again or again. But I’m hoping he did, because as he stated it’s the “happiest” day of your life, and having four, five or even 10 of those can’t be a bad thing, right?