Return to Innocence?

Hopefully, you've had an opportunity to read my last blog and truly taken it to heart.  Since that was an intermission, I used it to think about what I really wanted to achieve - am I going about this the right way?  Am I agreeing to meet people thinking it's not one for the books, but more like one for the blog?  So, I decided to go back over my filtering material and choose someone I might actually like.

We'll call him the Boy next door.  His profile was innocent enough - tall enough, fit enough, didn't smoke, no kids and no ex's.  How is that even possible?  I didn't ask at the time.  One, sometimes, should just say thank you and move on.  Well, I should have moved on ... more on that in a bit.

So "Boy" was polite and seemed nice.  We texted back and forth without incident and even talked on the phone.  He truly seemed okay.  We decided to meet at a local watering hole.  A place with happy hour until 7pm.  He had said something to me on the phone just prior to agreeing to meet that stayed with me.

"Time is a commodity I refuse to waste.  So, if I'm not interested, I have no problem telling you face- to-face, right then and there," he said.  I agreed without thought - I wanted to get off the phone.  But his statement stuck with me.  Of course, I would love to be able to tell someone straight up that I'm not interested but, and I don't think I'm alone in this, no one wants to hurt someone else's feelings right?

I shrugged it off and went about my business.  Before I knew it, it was time to meet "Boy".  I was pulling into the parking lot when I got the text.  "I'm here, I got a table, just waiting for you."  "Okay," I texted in return.

I parked the car, walked across the lot to the pub and went in.  I hate having to find someone, especially if you've never met them.  I mean, what if they don't look like their photo? (yes, it does happen).

The hostess asked me if I was meeting "Boy" and I said yes.  At least he had taken care of the hunt for that evening.  I was shown to a table.  From behind, Boy looked just like his picture. Straight back, broad-ish shoulders, dark brown hair... I found myself thinking - MAYBE?

Then I turned around the table and saw him.  REALLY saw him.  Sure, he was tall enough, fit enough and had his teeth (I think) and his hair (from what I could tell from afar), but the man was old enough to be my father.

He stood up and pulled my chair, sort of, out for me.  I sat down and immediately started thinking exit strategies.  Who did I tell I was going out tonight?  What was that word I had to use for the exit?  So many thoughts running through my head as I found myself sitting across from Boy.  What the heck was I thinking?  I know better than this.  I should have met at the bar - not the table.  Oh well, I'm there now, so I had to suck it up and go with it.

He started the conversation, innocuous enough, however, I couldn't pay any attention.  I tried to smile and insert an "oh really," "wow," or a chuckle here and there when seemingly appropriate.  He ordered us drinks, for me a beer and for him some seriously girly drink one might expect a 21-year-old boy to order (sex on the beach).  Yea, he had delusions of grandeur.

We sat for a while, I don't know how long.  Honestly, my mind was focused on the fact that I did not want to be there and this guy was not what he proclaimed to be.  I started to count his wrinkles.  There were so many.  They ran one right into the other.  He reminded me of the super hero, the rock man in the movie, "Fantastic Four."  He must have some mad filtering skills for his pictures!   I remembered what he said about not wasting time and telling people "up front".  I thought more on it as he ordered himself a second or maybe, a third drink.  I couldn't help it... it just came out.


"I'm sorry, I just can't do this," I blurted out.  Like word vomit.  I pride myself on being nice but sometimes words happen. 

"What?" he said.

"Look your pictures make you look at least 10 years younger and I know I should just be polite and allow you to prattle on but I can't.  I feel bad ... actually, you know what?  I don't.  You made the comment about time.  Not being wasted, etc.  Well, I'm not going to waste any more of yours or mine," I said as I wiped my napkin across my mouth and stood up.  "Thank you for the beer and good luck." 

The look of shock and perhaps a little bit of awe was apparent on his face.  I started to leave and realized I didn't want to.  I didn't want to leave the pub, just him.  So, I made my way to the bar by myself and ordered a bourbon.  Nothing like a nice stiff drink to take the edge off a bad date. 

It was interesting though, about 10 minutes later some buddies of mine from work showed up and I ended up playing pool and chatting with them for the rest of the night.  It turned out to be a good night. 

What's the moral of this story?  I guess it would have to be, "The truth shall set you free." 

Remember, on a first date, you don't have to worry about doing something wrong and saying something wrong - it's a meeting.  The sole purpose is to see if there is a spark or a desire or even a chance of friendship, love, etc.  So, be yourself!  Nothing worse than having to fake it!  Besides, YOU are a great person - just ask your friends!