At last, at last, a gentleman selected me from my dating service bio. I was very pleased and anxious to read his and to watch his tape. As I did so, my anxiety slipped away as it was easy to see our differences , while I hopefully held tight to the few similarities. Consequently, I agreed to meet him. What the hell–Columbus took chance! After two unsuccessful attempts to reach him by phone, I dropped him a note.
Naturally, my note and his call crossed . Our conversation was more like ‘his’ conversation which left me almost numbed by its inanities. Considering I was so quiet, I was surprised Richard was eager to meet me then and there. My gut feelings of that being an error when he set the ‘there’ at a less than popular ice cream shop in 30 minutes. The place, the time, the voice, the attitude were all wrong...but did that hold me back? No!
Reluctantly I dressed casually and headed for our rendezvous. I was surprised to arrive first, five minutes early. Had he not appeared on the stroke of seven, I would have been out of there without the excruciating (pleasure?) of meeting Richard. A quick handshake, his averted eyes and stubble on his face confirmed my pre-conceived picture.
Richard talked, oh, my lord how much he talked about himself and what he has been doing for the last ten years....bucking the system, fighting committees , writing thousands of letters to prove his point, win his battles. Attila the Hun could have done no more. His partially toothless mouth wasn’t pleasant to watch, as it hardly closed. It took my strongest concentration and terrific fakery to appear interested in his rambling. And when, like a bolt out of the blue, he asked, ‘How do you like me?’ I was floored. Thinking about his long description of purposely living in the street for a year, made me blurt out, ‘You are certainly different than any man I have ever met.’ Most likely he took that as a compliment but it was not.
With his fudge sundae finally wiped from his moustache and my coffee cup dregs cold, Richard had to dash off to catch his bus home. No car, no evening together, no rapport (at least on my side), AND NO FUTURE. The usual polite remark of ‘I’ll call you’ was received with a smile but thoughts of ‘please don’t’. Back I drove to my beautiful home, not even disappointed. There was almost a smug feeling in my heart as I chided myself, ‘You were right, Dummy.’
Did I learn a lesson? NO. I’ll probably be foolish many other times as I keep hold of the wheel, trying to steer my own Santa Maria to a safe harbor.
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