Friday night. Date night. I went out with Number 13. I was there early, she was there earlier. It was cold last night. I had to walk a half a block from where I parked my car. It wasn’t the cold so much as the wind that did me in.
By the time I arrived I was shivering – way more than I wanted to in front of my date. She looks like Joni Mitchell.
She has a nice smile. She thinks that our “not immediately jumping into warm conversation” is a problem. I assure her it’s not.
This is the first date I’ve had in a very long time where I felt like I was doing most of the talking. When she spoke it was very quiet. A couple of times I had to ask her to repeat what she said because it was so quiet and the bar was so loud (Really? THAT many people are ordering drinks that need a blender? Seriously?)
We went to “Don’s Place”. I had been there a couple of times before. I’d love it if my house were designed that way. Maybe I’d have a little more carpet on the floor but otherwise very nice.
I drank a couple glasses of Pinot Noir. I don’t usually drink red wine but I was feeling froggy, so I jumped. She was drinking some watered-down gin. Her drink came with the largest cocktail olives I’ve ever seen. They were as big as ping pong balls.
Just so you know, there was no chemistry. It should have worked because our occupations are very close to one another, but it just didn’t. There’s nothing you can do when this happens. I think it was over when she mentioned having another date with the man she had gone out with before me. We’re adults. I then began practicing for future dates.
That’s when I felt I was doing all the talking. I’m usually not the one talking unless a question has been asked. I think she was okay with me talking.
I had been with the service a lot longer than her. She told me I was only date number 2. I could tell she wanted to go but didn’t know how to broach the subject. “We just go”, I said. “It doesn’t have to be a big production, we just go…”
We left. It somehow felt colder walking back to my car. “It was nice meeting you”, we say. Another shared event. They paved paradise to put up a parking lot.
By the time I arrived I was shivering – way more than I wanted to in front of my date. She looks like Joni Mitchell.
She has a nice smile. She thinks that our “not immediately jumping into warm conversation” is a problem. I assure her it’s not.This is the first date I’ve had in a very long time where I felt like I was doing most of the talking. When she spoke it was very quiet. A couple of times I had to ask her to repeat what she said because it was so quiet and the bar was so loud (Really? THAT many people are ordering drinks that need a blender? Seriously?)
We went to “Don’s Place”. I had been there a couple of times before. I’d love it if my house were designed that way. Maybe I’d have a little more carpet on the floor but otherwise very nice.
I drank a couple glasses of Pinot Noir. I don’t usually drink red wine but I was feeling froggy, so I jumped. She was drinking some watered-down gin. Her drink came with the largest cocktail olives I’ve ever seen. They were as big as ping pong balls.
Just so you know, there was no chemistry. It should have worked because our occupations are very close to one another, but it just didn’t. There’s nothing you can do when this happens. I think it was over when she mentioned having another date with the man she had gone out with before me. We’re adults. I then began practicing for future dates.
That’s when I felt I was doing all the talking. I’m usually not the one talking unless a question has been asked. I think she was okay with me talking.
I had been with the service a lot longer than her. She told me I was only date number 2. I could tell she wanted to go but didn’t know how to broach the subject. “We just go”, I said. “It doesn’t have to be a big production, we just go…”
We left. It somehow felt colder walking back to my car. “It was nice meeting you”, we say. Another shared event. They paved paradise to put up a parking lot.