The evening of my forty-fifth date marked a landmark occasion, since it was the first time I'd gone out with someone I didn't meet online. I had called Bina - the woman who surprisingly made the first move at SuperBar - and asked her to meet me for coffee. I felt and sounded great on the phone with her, and asked for the date after only a few minutes of conversation. The fact that she was the pursuer had inevitably given me complete confidence, and it showed.
She texted me shortly before we planned to meet, asking if we could go someplace with food instead. I agreed, and we decided to go to T.G.I. Friday's.
The dynamic intrigued me. The only things I knew about her were those which I could ascertain from a few minutes at SuperBar and a few more on the phone. There was no eHarmony profile giving me a snapshot of her life. There were no e-mails to review for potential conversation topics. It was also different in that there would be no defining moment at which we'd be meeting for the first time after such conversations; that was already done.
I felt no anxiety.
We sat and talked, and I felt completely confident and relaxed throughout the conversation. I had a few obvious topics in mind (for example, SuperBar, siblings, television, and school since she'd been studying when I called), but it was easy to think of things to say anyway. We'd met the traditional way, but it was no different than the dates with my online dating site matches.
I wasn't sure how interested I was. I felt some physical attraction, but as we chatted, I became more and more aware of one issue that never occurs with online dating. That is, when she mentioned things like being at the same company 9 years and, well, cassette tapes......it was obvious that she was significantly older than I. I couldn't help but wonder how much older. When the waitress asked Bina for ID when she ordered an alcoholic drink, Bina laughed, blushed, and thanked her for doing so, all as if it were a ridiculous thing to do.
She has at least 35 years to my 25.
I usually hit a wall and clam up when I'm not interested, but that didn't happen on this date. I'd started out with a steady, relaxed supply of lighthearted humor, and there was no turning back. Things were clearly going well: when there was a break in the conversation, Bina broke the silence by asking, with a vocal tone and facial expression of slight worry, "Are you having a good time?"
I told her I was, but I felt a little sad hearing the question. I knew what it was like to be rejected, and I didn't want her to experience the feelings I've come to know all too well.
We were together over two hours until I said I'd better get ready for my office party the next day. As we stood up, she said she hoped I'd had a good time. I saw her lean, attractive body, and thought that at least maybe there was a chance. I walked her to her car, and she said she'd had fun. I said "me too" and told her I'd talk to her later.
Remaining the pursuer, she called me three dates later. I returned the missed call, but she didn't seem to have anything she particularly wanted to say. I could sense her anxiously sitting on the other end, waiting to see whether or not I'd deliver the dreaded Friends Speech.
Although it'd be interesting, I did no such thing. Instead, I asked her a couple questions, made a comment or two, and said maybe we'd do something when she returns from holiday travel. After that, I simply got off the phone. She sent me a text Christmas afternoon, and that's where it stands.
She texted me shortly before we planned to meet, asking if we could go someplace with food instead. I agreed, and we decided to go to T.G.I. Friday's.
The dynamic intrigued me. The only things I knew about her were those which I could ascertain from a few minutes at SuperBar and a few more on the phone. There was no eHarmony profile giving me a snapshot of her life. There were no e-mails to review for potential conversation topics. It was also different in that there would be no defining moment at which we'd be meeting for the first time after such conversations; that was already done.
I felt no anxiety.
We sat and talked, and I felt completely confident and relaxed throughout the conversation. I had a few obvious topics in mind (for example, SuperBar, siblings, television, and school since she'd been studying when I called), but it was easy to think of things to say anyway. We'd met the traditional way, but it was no different than the dates with my online dating site matches.
I wasn't sure how interested I was. I felt some physical attraction, but as we chatted, I became more and more aware of one issue that never occurs with online dating. That is, when she mentioned things like being at the same company 9 years and, well, cassette tapes......it was obvious that she was significantly older than I. I couldn't help but wonder how much older. When the waitress asked Bina for ID when she ordered an alcoholic drink, Bina laughed, blushed, and thanked her for doing so, all as if it were a ridiculous thing to do.
She has at least 35 years to my 25.
I usually hit a wall and clam up when I'm not interested, but that didn't happen on this date. I'd started out with a steady, relaxed supply of lighthearted humor, and there was no turning back. Things were clearly going well: when there was a break in the conversation, Bina broke the silence by asking, with a vocal tone and facial expression of slight worry, "Are you having a good time?"
I told her I was, but I felt a little sad hearing the question. I knew what it was like to be rejected, and I didn't want her to experience the feelings I've come to know all too well.
We were together over two hours until I said I'd better get ready for my office party the next day. As we stood up, she said she hoped I'd had a good time. I saw her lean, attractive body, and thought that at least maybe there was a chance. I walked her to her car, and she said she'd had fun. I said "me too" and told her I'd talk to her later.
Remaining the pursuer, she called me three dates later. I returned the missed call, but she didn't seem to have anything she particularly wanted to say. I could sense her anxiously sitting on the other end, waiting to see whether or not I'd deliver the dreaded Friends Speech.
Although it'd be interesting, I did no such thing. Instead, I asked her a couple questions, made a comment or two, and said maybe we'd do something when she returns from holiday travel. After that, I simply got off the phone. She sent me a text Christmas afternoon, and that's where it stands.
No comments:
Post a Comment