I’ve been pestered for months about my sad lack of love life—here, by my surrogate fathers—and in my real life. It’s been six months since the spilt with this one and I haven’t been ready to get out there and date again. It took me a long time to find him and it took a long time to get over him, too. He was precious to me. But lately my mother is asking me every day “when are you going to start dating again?” and now my friends have joined in on the chorus. So Friday night I agreed to go out on a date. A blind date. Here’s how it went.
We were set up by a friend who knows me much better than him. We had exchanged pictures and some flirty banter via email and text before we met and I liked what I knew of him. His name is Daniel and he is 5 years my junior. I’ve never gone out with anyone younger than me and I’m really only attracted to guys my age and older but this guy seemed cute, clever and interesting. What’s one glass of wine?
We agree to meet at the bar of the Four Seasons, which is a stunning space-- beautiful architectural details, multi-leveled and overlooking the lake. It is a sexy environment for a first date. Driving over to meet him I am nervous so I play my favorite Tom Petty song and sing it at the top of my lungs.
“She’s gonna listen to her heart. It’s gonna tell her what to doooo-ooo.”
It’s after dark but it’s still 97 degrees and humid outside. My air-conditioner is going full blast but my hands are still sweating. Daniel is excited and keeps texting me as I drive over.
I’ve got a table at the bar. Do you like wine? What kind? Hurry up. What are you wearing?
At the next stoplight I text back: I am driving. B there in a sec.
I walk in and the bar is full of activity. I walk past a young man who looks like Daniel but he has two glasses of wine and a plate of appetizers in front of him. Is that him? His head is down, as he furiously texts on his iphone. I get the musical alert that I’ve a new text. It’s him.
“Daniel?”
He stands and smiles broadly. We hug and then sit. Smiling, he pulls his chair closer to mine and I settle in. It is very warm in here. I notice my feet are sweating and I’m shaking a little bit. Did I mention that I am shy? Oh boy, am I ever. The first few minutes of a first date are like an 8 on the Richter scale for my nervous system.
“Alright!” he says, enthusiastically. “Okay! Look at you, you’re beautiful. Wow, you are really beautiful and sexy-- very attractive. Yeah.”
Okay, high praise. But why did this not feel like a compliment? It felt like an assessment. This is not what I am used to. This guy is…something…I don’t know yet but this makes me feel a bit guarded, being the first thing out of his mouth.
“Oh, well, thank you. That’s really-
He cuts me off. He leans in and grabs my hand. It is sweaty so I shyly pull it away.
“Whoa, that’s not a good sign” he says.
“No, I’m sorry, it’s just really sweaty. I’m sorry, please don’t read anything into it.”
“Okay” He grabs my hand again and leans in close. “So, Dharma, what are you looking for in a guy?” He leans back. “Oh, and what about me? Do I look like what you were expecting? Do you think I’m cute?”
Cute? He is adorable. He looks a little like the guy from Entourage. But cuter. His skin is pink and dewy. He has clear braces on his teeth-- braces that are obviously new because he cannot stop running his tongue over them. I find it endearing. But his forward manner is really sending me into retreat. Something about him reminds me of an actor. Or a car salesman.
“Oh, you are very cute. And I love your braces.”
He closes his eyes and drops my hand. He is self-conscious about the braces. He leans back and launches into a long description of meetings with his dentist. He talks fast and keeps interrupting his story with tangents. It’s jarring but I’m listening.
He leans forward and touches my knee.
“So Dharma, tell me about your studies- you’re studying some kind of psychology, or, but I know you’re like a kinesiologist or something, right?
“Well, yes I am a-”
He cuts me off again.
“I knew it was something like that, yeah. I love working out- I work out everyday. Can you tell? How do I look?”
There is nothing in the world I find less interesting than talking about working out. If he'd let me finish he would know what I actually do for a living.
“You look great”, I say.
“You look great, wow! Man, you are sexy and amazing. And look at these arms!!”
He caresses the outside of my right arm. He is smiling broadly. My heart is racing. This guy has no boundaries and it is making me even more nervous. Touching someone 3 times within the first 5 minutes of meeting is very forward. I am a very demonstrative person when I am involved with someone. But I just met this guy. This feels like a bit much.
“You know what I think, Dharma? I think I’m looking at my next girlfriend.”
I swear to sweet Jesus, I am not making this up.
He winces and leans back in his chair.
“Hey, can you get rid of this pain I have in between my should blades? It’s right here.”
He leans forward and puts one hand on my shoulder and the other on my upper back, inside my dress. I am wearing a light sundress with thin straps and he slides his hand right under one of the straps. The couple next to us is watching. I would too. This guy has adult ADD and cannot keep his hands to himself.
“Right now? I mean, yes, I can probably get you out of pain but um-”
He goes into a spiel about his chiropractor. I listen and ask questions. Then he remembers that he asked about my school.
“So you’re studying what, again?”
“I’m studying Cognitive and Somatic Psychology, it’s the-”
He cuts me off again.
“You know, I am totally open-minded when it comes to that stuff. I mean, last night I was getting into this big discussion about this very thing. My friend’s wife sees an Acupuncturist and we were talking about that and does it work? I don’t know, but what I’m telling you is that I am open-minded.”
You, dear reader, are getting the abridged version.
He leans in and grabs my hand again.
“So Dharma, why don’t we kill these (he indicates the glasses of wine before us) and head next door and have a bottle of wine and watch a movie?”
“Uh, what’s next door?”
“My apartment. I live right next door, but hey, I don’t rent, I own so cut me some slack, okay?”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. We are downtown and there a loads of hip new condos and apartment buildings down here. It’s the hot place to live now. But he would have to hog tie me to get me to his apartment on the first date.
“Let’s just stay here for now-- enjoy getting to know each other.”
He drops my hand and leans back again. He shifts gears.“You know what I think, Dharma? I think no one really knows anything. I mean, you never know when you’re gonna go."
WHA?
“My dad passed away this past September.”
“Oh, Daniel. I am so sorry.”
He is 33-- young to lose a parent. He is devastated. I wonder why he has brought this up on a first date, apropos of nothing. He goes on to talk about his father but he continually interrupts his narrative with unrelated tangents.
“Are your parents still living, Dharma?”
“Yes.”
“Are you close to them?”
“Very. I talk to them all the time. I see my mother at least once a week.”
He is smiling at me. His eyes are wet.
“Man, that’s great. Great. Great that you are family oriented. I like that. You know what Dharma? I think I’m looking at my next girlfriend.”
I laugh nervously. At this point he is so over the top that I feel like someone is playing a practical joke on me.
There is a band-- or rather two old hippies playing guitar-- on the stage to my left. They are very close in proximity to us and when they are not playing I overhear them discussing what to play next. Across from us are 3 women in their 50’s. They are wearing bright colors and they are sunburned and loud and drunk.
“Play some Johnny Casssshhhhhh! Play ELVISSSSSS!”
They just finished playing Johnny Cash. They don’t want to play another. My date leans in.
“Hey, um, hey!”
They look over their shoulders at him.
“Play “Tight Jeans”. Play some Conway Twitty.”
They look bemused. “We would if we could but we don’t know any.”
Nor do I. I'm from here and I was raised on Willie and Waylon and the boys but I have never, ever in my sweet Southern life met anyone who listened to Conway Twitty.
One of the old hippies looks at me.
“How about ‘Helplessly Hoping‘?”
“Yesssss!”
Sweet old hippies like their Crosby, Stills and Nash. I ask for it as much for them as for me. They commence to playing it beautifully. My date looks pained.
“What kind of music do you like, Daniel?”
He is watching the band. “I like everything”“What was your favorite band when you were 10 years old?”
“Oh, God. Poison! Yeah, Poison, all the way.”
When I was 10 years old I liked Stevie Wonder. He doesn’t ask but I thought you, gentle reader, might like to know.
“So why won’t you come home with me? What’s it gonna take to get you outta here?”
I’m thinking, “So what’s it gonna take to get you into a Toyota today, Dharma?”
This guy is smarmy. A salesman. He leans in close to convey sincerity and I am left feeling the opposite. Too bad because he is very cute.
“I’m sorry, Daniel, but I would never go home with someone on the first date.”
“Give me a reason why not.”
“Well, we just met.”
“I promise to keep my hands to myself”
He hasn’t kept his hands to himself here in the bar!
“And I’ve class early tomorrow morning.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and reads a text. He smiles and then thumbs at his phone for a bit and then turns it towards me so that I can see a picture of a toddler. It’s his nephew and he’s got a story about him. He goes on about his nephew and then he talks about his step-dad. He texts his step-dad as I sit and drink my wine. His step-dad has prostate cancer. Mine had it too and I say a sentence or two in comfort and condolence.
He looks grave and then leans in and says something I cannot hear.
“I’m sorry?”
“I said I’ll be right back.”
He gets up to leave just as the band is taking their break.
5 minutes pass. Then 10. After 15 minutes I text him: R U okay? Only then does it dawn on me:
My date has walked out.
The band returns from their break and they look at me sympathetically. They didn’t think much of my date for his musical preferences and they think even less of him now.
“How are you doin, darlin’?”
“I’m alright, how are y’all?”
“What can we play you, pretty lady?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m leaving. But thank you. That was lovely.”
I slip 5 dollars into their snifter and turn to walk away.
“Safe home now, darlin.”
And so I am.
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Matt Paust
sagemerlin
Sparking
consonantsandvowels
kmbearden
coogansbluf
Salon.com
Comments
What a terrific narrative Dharma! And about all you can do about it is shake your head, head on home, play a bit more CSN&Y and know that at some point you'll meet interesting people with whom you can thoroughly enjoy yourself and there may even be this thing called "chemistry" that goes along with it.
Peece,
dj
I loved it when he said, "I think I’m looking at my next girlfriend.”
What a piece of work!
If this was a screenplay we'd say, No, no -- the guy's too creepy. The line, "I think I'm looking at my next girlfriend" makes me shudder.
(Incidentally, I LOVE Conway Twitty. I even have the Conway Twitty Box Set. I swear to God, all of his songs are about sex.)
Well, the idiots leave you with good stories, and it's--almost--worth it when eventually someone with whom you click happens along.
That was really jerky. Have you said anything to the person who set you up? Like what were you thinking?
Lucky you to only go thru a couple of hours with him!
Rated for putting up with such an inconsiderate so-and-so.
Walter: Welcome to my blog, sir, and thanks for the praise. But hopefully this is not the *definitive* dating story.
Shel: Lord, baby, the regal beagle? lol. And yes, you know you may.
"when you believe in things/that you don't unnnerstand..."
Jim: Thank you for the kind remarks. In the 'real world' I treat people beautifully and that is (usually) what I get in return. This was completely out of the realm of my experience. No one has ever stood me up or walked out on me.
This date was not sponge-worthy but was he ever blog-worthy?! Mmmhmm.
Life1/2lived: I KNOW!! I laughed out loud when he said it. Maybe that's why he walked out....
Owl: A hug from you is always welcome, doll.
Ralph: I know, I know!!!
Oculanervosa: You *are* the lucky one. That is very rude.
Suzie: It makes for an even better stand-up routine. I have performed it for about a dozen friends, now. Oh, the cringing!!
And I'm sorry to diss your Twitty. I will give him a 30 sec. listen on itunes on your behalf.
Floyd: Unlike you, I have no talent for fiction. I just write about stuff that happens to me. So yes, he actually said that. Twice.
With your sensibilities, I don't think you're likely to be satisfied with a younger man unless he's extraordinarily mature. Consider that a little fatherly advice.
Speaking of which, you broke my heart with this line: "There is a band-- or rather two old hippies playing guitar". I resemble that remark, hell, I can even play some Conway Twitty, Only Make Believe -- not that you'd want to hear it! And you certainly don't want to hear Conway's Tight Fittin' Jeans or Mel McDaniels' Baby's Got Her Blue Jeans On.
Ah well... it's a great story, and just brings you that much closer to The One.
I'm sorry. I often think about your first post.... and I always wonder how you are, but have been reticent to ask. I wish you much, much happiness.
Dorinda: thank you, sweet gal. my friend is on vacation and i didn't want to text him on an island to tell him my lousy news.
Dorelvis: I did laugh, girl. Thank you.
Deborah: 80 minutes. Only 80 minutes. Ty for coming by:)
adfem: yes, I am owed-- owed some lovely karmic reward:)
Cartush: clearly this fella lacks the attention span to read a full blog, tho I'm sure he twitters and is a pro at the quickie im. probably an expert at quickies...;)
Hey, everybody. I've lured Tom back, if only for a moment.
Okay ((((Toms))) you know that I was thinking of you with my request. And I knew you wouldn't approve of that clown. Nor would my actual daddy.
Newsie: thank you, sweetie. And you also deserve someone who is completely covered in awesome.
Waking: okay, lovely, why did I know that after newsie you'd soon follow? i am well, horendous dates aside. ty, sweetheart.
thanks, aphra. thanks delia. just grist for the mill.
Conversation is where so many people screw up relationships (or should I say possible relationships?)
Conversation involves listening more than talking sometimes. There is nothing I dislike more than someone who cuts me off in the middle of what I'm saying, unimportant as it may be, to "trump"my story with their bigger better story.
Personally I am content to listen and let the other person tell me what's on there mind, and then instead of giving my perspective asking for more details from my friend whoever they may be.
I'm content to let someone else do the talking as long as they are comfortable. I call it the art of conversation. Next Trig post? Hmm..
You are adorable OK? OK . You are just fine without a relationship right now and the universe is unfolding exactly as it was meant to. Don't rush into anything.
You told this story beautifully for what it's worth
: (
good news, you got that over with. in the future, sweetheart, and you will get past this nightmare and do this again, you meet someone for coffee and you leave after 15 minutes if there is nothing there. seriously. that's what i always did.
and, shit, what a gift that he walked out and away!!! love lvoe love. i'm wiped out tonight but i will come back and give better comment.
I had a similar (but much lower-key) experience recently - met a nice gentleman and it was really only after I was driving home that I realized that the entire time (20 minutes over coffee) had been about him-him-him, and even my occasional comment only provided a tangent for him to go off again. Then when he eventually e-mailed re another get together ('dinner' at Wendy's), it had been so long because he'd forgotten. (I declined the dinner date - and anyway, I was about to go to Europe and eat well, in the company of a charming and considerate man ... gay, but hey, no relationship is perfect.)
Trigger: I am honored by your long, sweet and wise comment. Yes, Tom rules (both of them) and I love that song to pieces.
I agree that good conversation-- a good balance of give and take-- is an art form and I would love to read your post on that. It would be a terrific addition to the trig palin oeuvre:)
And as for the adorable-ness? Right back atcha, sweetie.
Teddy: I guess I've been conditioned to think that anything less than an hour is rude. I need to re-condition myself. But I look at it this way: not only did I get a post out of it, I can also write a paper about it for school:)
T+ sympathy: Love your name, doll. And thank you for the praise. People keep asking me why i stayed after all the inappropriate touching and stuff and part of it was because of the surreal quality you mention. I had to see how it played out because it was almost like I was watching a movie. This guy was a real character, that's for sure.
Asta: thank you. And no, I won't give up. Not a chance.
Darryl: I know. A case of the good stuff, for sure!
Lea: I know! What I need is a nice mensch-y guy.
Myriad: he wanted to take a woman like you on a date at Wendy's? Criminy! And I didn't read nearly enough about your trip to Europe!
Brian: Don't be afraid, sweetie. I've been on many dates and none were as bad as this. Although, there was one fella who continually called me by the wrong name. EVEN AFTER I CORRECTED HIM.
I loved your telling of this story - sorry it was so crappy.
Grif: Thanks, love. And where have you been for the month of June?! Really, on my drive home I was thinking about how I would blog this. I'm not too broken up about it:)
Ash, icedmilkcoffee: I know! I KNOW!!
Leeds: That's what *that* crazy 33 year old acted like. I won't judge his peers based on him. But I think I'll go back to dating the older fellas, just the same:)
BBabbles: Or maybe just some Patsy Cline-- "Crazy", I'm thinking:)
I was in the coffee shop now and people keep looking at me laughing my head off in the corner. Honestly, though, the texting on your way there should have been a HUGE clue.
I wonder if compliments from a guy like him are effective? I mean, later on, do you still feel good about his compliments? He sure seemed to think you were very attractive - that has to count for something, doesn't it?
I loved this post - just LOVED it!