My ‘Get lucky. Take a chance!’ ad in the paper stirred up some action as well as my confidence in the ability of American men to read and understand. Clearly I had written that I was a W/J/F/NS/Sr who loves golf and the good country lifestyle in Boca, but what I asked for and got were entirely different. 3/4 of the responses were from men 52 to 62 years old who didn’t play golf, didn’t live in Boca and weren’t even Jewish. In fact, I was shocked by a 52 year old WASP who wanted to be my lover and be kept. Another was Latin and had not yet learned to spell. Those went into my ‘laugh’ pile. Then I began to do the best I could with what was left. The first meeting did not produce a prize.
Milt’s age was perfect, 70, but that was all that was right. My choice of a meeting place was an inexpensive restaurant/bar. As I prepared for our date, thunder rolled and lightning streaked the sky–but they were the only sparks that flew. Seeing the slight man wearing tan slax, held up with white and green wide suspenders over a long sleeved rayon shirt didn’t excite me, but I was there and had to go through with the meeting even though I wanted to keep on driving. My ego flared a bit at Milt’s puzzlement of my not having been snapped up before he got lucky enough to meet me. ‘Why are you still alone? How can such an attractive lady not have a man in her life?’ I puffed up like a balloon but had no answers as I had asked myself the same questions many times. Within ½ hour Milt tried to set up another date the very next day, but fortunately for me, I could honestly say I was busy. Either not remembering or not willing to take ‘no’ for an answer he asked me two more times during the too long evening.
In the booth next to ours an adorable but annoying toddler yelled, laughed and cried right in his ear until I suggested he sit next to me instead of across. He was delighted. I regretted my idea quickly as his proximity and constant talk about his hobbies and interests made my skin itch to leave. Forgoing coffee and dessert and hoping Milt would just fade away, I had to say okay when he asked to stop in my place for a little while. What else could I do? In the ensuing eternity I got a lot smarter learning about oil painting techniques and commodity pricing but not smart enough to tell him ‘we’ will never work and it was time to rack up and go home. I wasn’t even strong enough to tell him not to call me again because I didn’t want to hurt him. I realized I merely put off the inevitable.
Even though I struck out with my first ad answer, I will roll the dice again, and again, and again. Maybe one of these times I will be the lucky one.
No comments:
Post a Comment