Let’s Revisit Dating 101

Dating
Dating

How long has it been since you’ve gone out on a date? A date night for spouses is a great idea to keep the marriage fresh and loving. This is not what I am talking about.
I am talking about you being single and going on a date with someone you may have known or met for the first time. A first date, in other words. For me, it’s been since the Paleocene Era. Really.

The last time I had a date must have been when my daughter was in high school. Not wishing to reveal her age, though her birthday is coming in less than a month, let’s just say if has been a few years. This fellow was a man I knew well from church. He was a really sweet person and he knew the gospel very well. He just wasn’t for me. But I couldn’t say “no” because he was tenderhearted and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. We ate Kentucky Fried Chicken at my dining room table and had a wonderful discussion. I enjoyed his company and he mine, I guess, because he asked to take me miniature golfing. When he shook my hand good-bye, I was grossed out. He had really sweaty palms. It could have been from nerves at being with me, but knowing him from church he was just a really sweaty guy and his palms were always wet, not damp. There are some things that are too much for me. Sweaty palms may be a little thing causing discomfort, but I just wouldn’t be able to hold his hand.

My children did not want me seeing this fellow other than at church activities. He reminded them of Tweedle Dee (which was actually an accurate description, but they also thought he was too emotional, and didn’t have a full-time job.) I backed out of the second date. Not on account of anything my children said, but because of my feelings. Shame on me.

Let me be straightforward about myself. I consider myself to be a genius, actually, this is true. I have a great sense of humor and I love holidays and reading. I am overweight, short, middle aged, and have thinning hair, courtesy of the matriarchal side of my family, and a big Hungarian schnoz courtesy of the patriarchal side of the family. Honestly, I am not much to look at. So I don’t have any doubt as to why I haven’t had any invites out. My children tell me it’s because no one wants a woman with two grown outspoken children attached at mama’s hips. And that I am too independent and self-assured for guys’ egos. Hmmm.

But there was the time a year or so ago when my daughter and I were volunteering at the library used book sale and there was this thin Asian man with a hat and very large-framed glasses hovering around. I got up to straighten up the books and he came over and asked me to go to for a coffee with him. He was rather geeky and I didn’t feel at all interested so I told him I don’t drink coffee and thanked him. Poor excuse but true. I don’t drink coffee. My daughter had watched the small scene, though; she couldn’t hear the brief conversation. However, she grilled me sternly. I told her what happened and she responded that I had better not accept his invitation. She didn’t “feel good” about this. I teasingly told her I missed my chance at love and she gave me that hands-on-hips there’s no way look. After we got home Daphne immediately told my son and he gave me the spiel about no one touches his mama.

So those are my dating misadventures. I bring this up because, believe it or not, some guy at the gas station asked me for my phone number twice a couple of days ago. I didn’t get any geek vibes. He was nice looking. He had a fairly new car and was on his way to WORK! I can only account for him hitting on me because it was 6 am and dark outside. He didn’t get a truly good look. He initiated the conversation as I came out of the mini-mart. He told me to smile. It was a good day. I wasn’t frowning; rather I was concentrating on what traffic would be like. (I had started day shift 3 days before and still couldn’t gauge the traffic right. Please refer to my last blog post.)

So I smiled. He started talking to me about my car. I happen to be driving a 2003 Mitsubishi Eclipse GT. (Hey, my son picked this out. I’m a Jeep girl through and through. I just currently don’t have one. By the way this car was the one driven by Paul Walker in the first Fast and the Furious movie. Not really my car, but the same model.) The car is sleek, fast, and has these awesome fins. He liked my car and wondered how fast it went. 150 mph. How many tickets did I have? Zero. He complimented me on this. I told him I don’t know how many tickets my son had driving it (actually none – which is a joyous surprise), and he told me I shouldn’t let Adam drive it.

Then he asked me what my husband thought of the car. Now, what do I say to that? I don’t have one and haven’t since I was pregnant with Daphne. Hemming and hawing I couldn’t think of a good answer. I knew where this was going. I am an honest person and don’t tell lies so I flat out told him I didn’t have one. Oops!

“A woman as pretty as you?” (Remember it is 6 am and dark outside. I probably should have offered him my glasses.) “That isn’t possible! I would love to have your phone number.” More hemming and hawing. I didn’t get any funky vibes from him. He really seemed like an okay guy. Quick thoughts went through my head: I am older than I look, I have 2 adult children living with me and an obnoxious dog, I’m short, stubby, and have varicose veins,  I’ll bet he’s not of my religion, who wants a person with debt piled to the ceiling?

So what awful excuse did I give the guy? “I don’t think my children would like the idea.” That’s the excuse I gave? What a nut! His response was, “It’s not your children’s decision.” To which I acknowledged that was true. As he got into his car he said again he wished I would give him my phone number. Darn it! I should have but I just turned and put my gas cap on the car. As he drove away he smiled at me and waved and I waved back.

What a dipstick I am! He really was a nice guy. So now, I lament that I could have lost my middle-aged Romeo. Aye yi yi. I need to sign up for Dating 101 in case the very rare opportunity comes along again to get hit on.

Blog You Later!

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