It’s likely happy trails again for cold cowboy

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DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: At 19, I had a store-clerk job and my own rented attic apartment on the edge of Winnipeg. I soon fell for an “urban cowboy” type who hung out at the nearby pub. One night, he was drinking too much and dancing up a storm. He asked me to join him. I sure did.

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Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 04/03/2025 (584 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: At 19, I had a store-clerk job and my own rented attic apartment on the edge of Winnipeg. I soon fell for an “urban cowboy” type who hung out at the nearby pub. One night, he was drinking too much and dancing up a storm. He asked me to join him. I sure did.

Later, he was strong enough to carry tipsy little me up the stairs to my suite after the pub closed. Not much talk, but lots of action.

He generally had little to say on the dates that followed, so dancing and sex were everything that summer — and we produced an “oops.” I got pregnant with our baby girl.

I loved her before she even arrived, but my boyfriend was obviously bored and restless — he didn’t want to hold her or be a young father, but he was contributing to the rent.

He said I should get myself a job again to start making more money, so I did. I brought in two small paycheques and then the jerk left me to move to Alberta to work on his uncle’s ranch.

He did leave a note and six months worth of guilt money for rent in an envelope on the bed. I kept that money and moved in with my folks. Then I started university last fall with tuition aid from my parents and my mom’s willingness to babysit.

What an investment university turned out to be: my next love was standing right in front of me — an assistant professor. He was brilliant, although not smart enough to stay away from a young mother. I married the sweet guy, and he loves both my daughter and me.

Then guess who came knocking last week? Mr. Sperm Donor. He’s single and living back in Manitoba, so he came over to see his daughter, “check her out” and tell her he’s her dad.

She was sweet to him — she’s just an innocent kid.

My husband hated him on sight and now the birth father is demanding his visiting rights. My husband wants to bust his jaw. What should we do?

— Torn, St. Norbert

Dear Torn: See your lawyer even though this guy may not actually stick around for long. He was naturally curious to see his daughter, so insist the next visit is a group visit with games and activities set up at your place in case things are uncomfortable for your child. The kid needs you and your husband handy.

If things are a little uncomfortable, so much the better. It will be time for the cowboy to get back on his horse and head home.

Dear Miss Lonelyhearts: I’m looking pretty hot if I do say myself. I used to be a heavier guy with bad teeth, but my older sister made me her project. She took me to her dentist and helped me pick out great clothes and a flattering new haircut.

I started university after Christmas, and frankly, I never looked so good. So who do I run into in one of my classes but the girl who dumped me in Grade 10 because she thought she could get a better-looking older guy. She didn’t get him, either. Ha.

I was cool but polite to her and now she keeps coming over to sit and chat. I don’t want her company. What do you suggest I do?

— Lonely, but Not That Lonely, Fort Garry

Dear Lonely: Get busy and honestly have places to go after you finish a class with her. You need to get involved in activities to make friends on campus. To get to know other people in your classes, speak up about the issues covered and ask people afterwards about their thoughts on topics. Yes, interview them.

Please send your questions and comments to lovecoach@hotmail.com or Miss Lonelyhearts c/o the Winnipeg Free Press, 1355 Mountain Ave., Winnipeg, MB, R2X 3B6.

Maureen Scurfield

Maureen Scurfield
Advice columnist

Maureen Scurfield writes the Miss Lonelyhearts advice column.

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DEAR MISS LONELYHEARTS: At 19, I had a store-clerk job and my own rented attic apartment on the edge of Winnipeg. I soon fell for an “urban cowboy” type who hung out at the nearby pub. One night, he was drinking too much and dancing up a storm. He asked me to join him. I sure did.

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