STRANGER THAN FICTION: GHOST OF BOYFRIENDS PAST HAUNTS COLUMNIST

There's some sort of cruel law of the universe that states when a woman is sitting in curlers eating bon-bons on a Saturday night, nobody will call. When she is in a great relationship, men beat down the door.

My friend Jon said it was because fulfilled women don't give off "desperation vibes." If a woman gives off desperation vibes, a man won't walk near her for fear she will sink her claws in, biological clock ticking wildly, and beg to have his children.

I believe Jon, because he has spent the last few months sitting on barstools and attempting to read women's vibes -- or anything else they have -- every chance he gets.

Yes, we've all had our desperate times when we begged the Lord to send us anything employed with his own car and maybe, if we were lucky, no major diseases. So help me, I've dated a few men who didn't even meet those requirements.

The men of my past are best learned from and forgotten. I finally dragged one into the boat, stuffed him and hung him on my trophy wall to be smiled at proudly for years to come.

Seriously, I'm thankful I landed The Other Half, who is employed, has his own car, is very healthy and has a lot of other great qualities besides. So you can imagine my surprise when the phone rang the other day and a former love was on the other end.

I recognized him immediately by his Spanish accent. It was "Joe," the name everyone called him because Elpidio Padua was far too tough to remember.

That blast from the past brought to mind all the boyfriends my parents hated, and some of them rightly so. I remembered Joe's calls to my folks house -- "Aalo? Ees Heidi home?" -- and how Dad quaked as he handed me the phone.

Their biggest problem with Joe was that he was 40 when I was 20. Oh, and did I mention he was divorced twice, having been married to two women in two different countries at one time, and had five children between them?"But age doesn't matter," I cried to Mom and Dad. "I love him, and maybe you can stop me from seeing him now, but we'll never break up!"So here I am, five years later, married to someone else with Joe on the other end of the phone."How are ju, Sveetheart?" he asked."Married," I replied.

So that was that.

There were other disastrous boyfriends worth remembering.

WILLIAM. When William and I dated, he drove a 1974 Malibu with the bottom rusted out. You could actually see the highway whizzing by beneath you as William sped to one location or another.

Did I mention he was 28 and still lived at home with two thirtysomething brothers who hadn't moved out either.

Ironically, after we broke up, he bought a brand new Ford Taurus. It didn't seem fair.

JON. Yes, the friend I mentioned earlier. When we first met, I mistook his silence for depth, later realizing he didn't have anything worth saying, except maybe that desperation theory.

When he did talk, he expressed an unnatural fascination with Tasha Yar from Star Trek: The Next Generation.

It just didn't seem right.

RANDY: I should have known things just weren't meant to be when the girl who introduced us said, "Randy feels fine if he stays on his medication."I always thought she meant some sort of physical affliction until the third date, when Randy screamed, "You women are all the same! Always trying to change us! Change, change, change, that's all you want!"We were in Pizza Hut.

It just didn't seem normal.

Heidi Nieland is a member of the Southeast Missourian news staff.