Sunday, May 15, 2011

My first "Mature" date-The Attorney

    Being an outside sales representative in the medical community allows me to meet people everyday.  My favorite part of my career is developing genuine friendships with the people I see on a consistent basis.  In order to achieve that bond with my customers, I need to disclose personal information about myself.  For example; my marital status. 

   I don’t run into my customer’s offices and yell out I’M SINGLE!! That would be weird.  I reveal this information through casual conversations over a period of time.  The typical reaction or statements from my customers are:

“I can’t believe you’re still single”
“There has to be something wrong with you, what is it?”
“You must be too picky”

     My generic response to these questions is; “I just haven’t met the right guy yet.” 
A lot of times my customers change the subject but once in a while I get; “I have the perfect guy for you!”

    That’s what happened one Monday afternoon.
  
   “He’s older than you, I think he’s about fifty.  He is an established attorney and a very sweet guy.”  My customer said describing the man she desperately wanted me to meet.

   I was thirty-three at the time and only dated men my age.  It never occurred to me to date someone older.  As my customer continued to talk about The Attorney, the wheels in my head turned.  The thought of dating a mature man sounded appealing.  I found that the men I dated close to my age kept their options opened.  It seemed like they were looking for something better to come along.  Not to mention the fact that settling down was the furthest thing on their mind. 

    I interrupted her description by shouting, “I’d LOVE to meet him! When can you set it up?”  I startled her with my eagerness but I didn’t care.  I assumed that an older man might be interested in a relationship and maybe open to marriage someday.

     My customer gave The Attorney my phone number shortly after I left her office.  He called that same afternoon.  We talked for a few minutes before he invited me to dinner. 

    We met at beautiful restaurant overlooking the Connecticut River.  It was a Thursday night and the place was crowded.  He requested a quite table with a view of the water and we got it.

    “You look gorgeous!”  The Attorney said after the hostess sat us at our table. 
    “Thank you.”  I sheepishly replied unsure how to complement him.   He was far from being gorgeous but I couldn’t tell him that.  He looked odd but I couldn’t tell him that either.
    “You look nice.”  I said which wasn’t a total lie. 

    He wore a sharp suit and his overall appearance was well manicured but the first thing I noticed was his tan.  Well, the more accurate description would be his orange tinted face.  It wasn’t his worst feature though.  He had thinning hair and his poor attempt to conceal it distracted me.  The comb over barely covered the orange glow that illuminated from his head.  I wanted to ask him if he was aware of how bad his fake tan looked but I didn’t want to be rude.

    The waitress handed us menus and I focused on it intently rarely lifting my head.  He asked me what looked good and I answered; “The house salad.” 
    “What do you mean?  What does it have in it?”  He asked
    “Pine nuts and pears.”  I said.
    “I have Diverticulitis.  The pine nuts will kill me.  What other types of salad do they have?”  He asked.
   
   Having spent many years in the medical industry, I knew what Diverticulitis was so I didn’t ask any questions.  Instead, I looked for items on the menu that would not cause him to run into the bathroom.  Each time I described something on the menu he informed me that it was a trigger for his illness.  It was obvious that he wanted to talk about it but I just didn’t want to hear it.  It felt like I was having dinner with an elderly man who wanted to disclose when he had his last bowel movement.

    “It’s not that I don’t like what you’re suggesting, my body can’t handle it.”  He said before describing his last episode.

   “I was in the bathroom for hours.  I can not tell you how much pain I was in as I sat on the toilet!”  He said shaking his head from side to side.   I was speechless. 

   “Read me something else.”  He requested so I obliged.  After his next rejection I suggested that he reads the menu himself.

   “I can’t.  I left my glasses in the car.”  He explained.
    “Why don’t you get them?”  I asked
   “Because I don’t want to wear them.  They make me look old.”  He said just as the waitress approached our table to take out order. 
    “What do you suggest?”  The Attorney asked her.  She made a couple of recommendation, which he didn’t like.   She looked at me looking for assistance but I couldn’t help her. 
    “Just give me a steak.”  He said as he handed her the menu.  I ordered the salmon and a glass of wine. 
    “What do you think?  Do we make a great couple?”  He asked the waitress before she walked way,
    “Excuse me?”  She asked as her voice trembled.
    “Me and her.  What do you think?”  He asked motioning to me.  His question made her visibly uncomfortable and I felt bad for her.
    “We look great together!”  I proclaimed and reached over to touch his arm.  The waitress let out a sigh of relief before she walked away.

    “I have a boat.”  He announced while we waited for our food.
    “Really?  That’s nice.”  I said.
    “Yup, a big boat.  I’d like to take you out on it someday.”  He said with a smile. 

His teeth were shockingly white and freakishly big.  I immediately commented on the river to hide my startled reaction.
  
“I knew you’d like this place.  I take my boat on this river all the time.  You will love it!”  He said still smiling.
   “I’m sorry but I don’t really like boats.  I get sea sick easily.”  I said.
    “You’d like my boat.  It’s different from boats you have been on.”  He said.
     “Does your boat float on water?”  I asked
    “Of course.”  He replied.
I sat quietly trying to think of a way to tell him his boat wasn’t anything special without hurting his feelings.
    “Well, what do you think?  When can I take you out on my boat?”  He asked again.

     “I don’t think you’ll get me on your boat.  I’m sorry.”  I said just as the waitress brought us our dinner. 
    “You’d come on my boat wouldn’t you?”  The Attorney asked the waitress.  She just giggled and asked if we needed anything else.
   “See, girls love boats.”  He said proudly.
  
    The Attorney inspected the plate of food in front of him then proceeded to describe his illness again.  The image of The Attorney sitting on a toilet popped in my head.  I couldn’t shake that disturbing picture.  It was confirmed, I never wanted to see this guy again.

    The next hour creped by but I got through it.  He talked about his boat and told me stories that took place years ago.  At one point he raised his hand looking for a high five.  I’ve never high fived a man at dinner before but I didn’t want to keep him hanging.  As I slapped his hand I knew that I could never come back to this beautiful restaurant.

 I thanked him as he walked me to my car. 
   “It was really great meeting you.”  I said extending my hand to shake his. 
    “It was great meeting you too.”  He said leaning in to give me hug.  I didn’t want his orange skin to touch mine so I stepped back and said;  “I don’t hug on the first date.” I jumped in my car and waved to him as I drove away.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Speed Dating

     “Speed dating!!”   Were the first words I heard when I answered my phone.  “Who is this?”  I asked knowing exactly who it was. 
     “It’s Carrie.  Listen, I heard about this thing that local bars are doing called Speed dating.  We have to do it.”   Carrie said with excitement and hope in her voice. 
   “Well, actually, you have no choice.  I already signed us up.”  Carrie continued. 

I was upset at first.  Committing to something that I didn’t know anything about made me very nervous.  I didn’t want to tell Carrie that I wasn’t interested right away so I didn’t interrupt her as she explained the process. 
    
    “You know as well as I do that dating is a numbers game.  Just think; we’ll get eight dates out of the way in one night!  Who knows, we might actually meet someone we like, stranger things have been known to happen!”  Carrie said which made perfect sense to me.  She convinced me to go and I was looking forward to it.

     “So, we’re all set for Friday night.  I’ll meet you at the bar.”  Carrie said before hanging up. 

Of course I had to do my own research and found that this could actually be fun.  Meeting eight guys in one night and discreetly rejecting the ones that I never wanted to see again!  How could I say no to this?

The week flew by and before I knew it, it was Friday night.  I proceeded with my “getting ready for a date” ritual and exited my apartment.  I jumped in my car, turned on the radio and headed to downtown Hartford.  I anticipated rush hour traffic so I made sure I left early enough to beat it, which I did.
I arrived a lot earlier than Carrie so I bellied up to the bar and ordered a drink.   I sat in one of the chairs at the bar and saved the seat next to mine for Carrie.

I looked around the crowded bar and tried to figure out who was there for the main event.  I noticed a group of young girls standing by the door gushing over a table of guys close to them.  Standing next to me at the bar was a group of guys pretending not to check out all of the girls in the room.  
    
    “Is anyone sitting here?”  Asked a beautiful blond girl. 
    “I’m waiting for my friend.”  I said as I pulled the empty chair closer to me.
     “Well, can I at least order a drink?”  She asked as she leaned over the bar to get the bartender’s attention. 

The blond got her drink then I heard her say to her friends; “I’m obviously the prettiest girl here.”   She was pretty but she neglected to point out that she could very well have been the biggest bitch here too.

Carrie finally walked in and climbed onto the chair next to me.  “Do you see anyone good?”   She asked after ordering her drink.  
“Not really.  There are a lot of young guys here.”  I said while motioning to the group of guys next to us at the bar. 
   “They’re our age.”  Carrie said then sipped her drink. 
   “Our age?  Carrie I’m at least seven years older than you.”  I reminded her. 
   “Oh yeah.  I keep forgetting that.  Don’t worry, you don’t look it.”  She said reassuringly.   I kept an eye on the front door in hopes that a group of older men would walk in.

We were surrounded by so many young and gorgeous people.   I tried to ignore everyone in the room and focus on my conversation with Carrie but it was difficult.  I have to admit; I was a little intimidated by the people there.  
    
   “Is it me or is it really loud in here?”  I asked Carrie wondering if she felt as insecure as I did. 
   “It is loud.  Maybe we should mingle.”  She suggested while looking around the room.  “Ok, lets.”  I said hopping off the bar chair. 
      “Where should we start?”  I asked. 
   “I don’t know.”  Carrie replied while scoping out the room.  The two of us stood close to each other and plotted our next step as we stared into the crowd. 
     “Looks like we have some stiff competition. “  I said hoping Carrie would say out loud what I was feeling and suggest that we leave. 
   “Yeah, I’m not worried.” Carried replied before ordering a round of drinks.   It looked like I was stuck there.
  “Let’s get this thing over with.”  I said after she handed me a drink and the two of us walked over to where the event was taking place. 

The people running the event handed each of us instructions and explained the rules. 
     
   “I don’t get it.  Where do we sit? When do we move?”  Were some of the many questions I asked Carrie. 
     “I have no idea.  Let’s just follow their lead.”  Carrie said then walked away leaving me alone with many unanswered questions.

Out of nowhere a woman screamed, “Ok! READY! BEGIN!” And the sound of a bell echoed throughout the room.  Loud chatter and laughter encircled me as a hundred of smiling faces raced to their assigned seats.  I stood still for a few seconds trying to figure out what exactly I was supposed to be doing. 
    
   “Quick! Find your seat!” shouted one of the women in charge.  I wanted to ask for directions but it was too late.  Everyone was seated except for me.  I looked for the only empty seat available and hurried towards it.  I plopped down and smiled.  
    “Am I at the right place?”  I asked the pimple faced guy seated across from me.  He looked at the card in my hand and said; “You’re in the right place.” 

It took me a few seconds to get settled in.  I made sure that my handbag was secure on the back of my chair and I felt the need to wipe the condensation off of my drink glass.  By the time I was ready to ask my suitor of the next eight minutes my first candid question, the warning sound blew. 
    
   “What does that mean?”  I asked him.
   “It means the date is half way done.”  He answered.  I could tell he was irritated so I tried to joke around with him to lighten the mood, he didn’t laugh.

    “Is this your first time?”  He asked.  “Yes it is.  Could you tell?”  I asked in a flirty manner.  “Yup. You know we only have like 2 minutes left.”  He replied. Clearly my flirting was not working.   
    “Do you have a question for me?”  I asked.  
   “Nope.”  He said then looked away from me. 
  “Ok then! Let’s just sit here in silence until our time runs out.”  I suggested then crossed my arms across my chest.  I stared at his oily face until the sound of the bell prompted us to get up.

The rest of the night continued to go badly; I kept getting lost and annoyed the people who knew what they were doing.  I could tell that the guys I got paired with were not interested in me the second I sat down. 
  
   “Oh, it’s you.”  One guy said as I sat down.  “What does that mean?”  I asked.  “Nothing, sorry.  Let’s get this over with.”  He said before asking a stupid question. 
    “Can you please repeat the question?”  I asked.  He repeated his question slowly and I had to stop myself from punching him.

I was having a horrible time and to make matters worse, my buzz was wearing off.  The bell rang after the longest eight minutes of my life and I made my way to the front of the room.

   “Do I have time to get another drink?”  I asked the woman behind the megaphone.  “No, go find your next date!”   She yelled directing me to where I was supposed to be. 

I arrived at my next date and sunk in the chair.  I looked across the table at him and wanted to die, he looked like a child.  
   “I’m too sober for this.”  I said slurping down whatever vodka I had left in my glass.
   “How old are you?”  I asked this obviously young man.  “How old are you?”  He asked.  “You shouldn’t ask a lady that question.”  I said.  “You shouldn’t ask a man that question either.”  He said right back at me. 
    “I’m guessing that you are about twenty three.  Is that right?”  I asked him sternly.  I was not going to let this child talk to me like that.
   “That’s about right.  What are you, forty?”  He asked.  
   “No fucker, I’m not.”  I said.  I stood up and leaned into his face and roared; “I’m thirty two!” Then stormed away from the table and searched for Carrie.  I found her tucked away in the back of the room.
   
   “Carrie!  I give up! Meet me when you’re done. ”  I screamed in her direction.  “OK, I’m almost done here too.”  She said ”Great! You know where I’ll be!”   I said before heading to the bar.