Little ventured

It is a sad cruelty of life that anyone should have to go on a first date at the ripe old age of 63. But the twists and turns of life often deliver us to a station that is far from where we thought we would arrive. These are the thoughts that meandered through her mind as she was getting ready for the unlikely outing.

It was only the at the insistence of her friends that she had tried the online dating site to begin with; having no intention of actually finding a prospect. She signed up solely to shut up her magpie friends. Yet once the hurdle of a crafting a profile that was honest and yet created an illusion of being desirable was accomplished, she found herself browsing the faces posted there like mugshots late into the lonely nights. It was odd, in as much as all these men were looking for a companion, but what a strange new world it is when you shop for a companion the way you would for a winter coat. Would it fit? Is it comfortable? Would it be warm? Would it look good? And most important, can you easily return it if it wasn’t just right?

Then one night, after many glasses of her favorite Merlot, (her current date…) she saw a face that was intriguing. He was not particularly handsome, but something in his eyes looked well, soulful. Ugh, she told herself it must be the wine causing that thought. And with that she closed the laptop and went to bed.

The next morning while she readied herself for the day, her eyes kept darting to the laptop that sat in the coffee table where she had abandoned it last night. Oh, what the hell, one more look to see if he was as interesting in the morning light with coffee wouldn’t hurt anything. She fired up the computer and while she waited for the site to load she laughed at herself. She was sure that in the light of day the prince would surely be a frog.

But that was not the case, he still looked attractive to her. Something about the eyes. A sense of abandon she rarely experienced overtook her and she hit the “like” button and sent a “wave’. Closed the computer and walked away.

Throughout that day she found her mind wandering and wondering if he had seen her wave. Would he wave back? Or was her face too lined with the road map of life for him to take the time. Did her profile break the rules of the game? After all unlike so many other seekers, she had been honest. She did not tell her story with the grandiosity others so obviously did. Even her profile picture was not the heavily filtered type women so often posted these days, (did they think it wasn’t noticeable?) hers showed her reality. A real man would want that, she reasoned unconvincingly to herself.

At long last the work day was over and she found herself anxious to get home and check the site. That was uncharacteristic for her, but she smiled at the thought.

Once home she threw her keys and bag on the counter and grabbed the laptop. Wait, I need a glass of wine for this. There was still wine in the bottle she had opened last night so it was a fast fix. Opened the computer, logged on to the internet, found the site, logged in to it and there it was, a response. She momentarily froze, took a breath, then a quick sip and with the anxiety of a 15 yr old opened the message.

It was surprisingly normal. After a thank you for the wave and brief update to the profile he had posted, he got down to the brass tacks. “We are at the point in our lives where wasting time is no longer an option, would you like to meet for a cocktail, glass of wine, coffee? Whatever suits your fancy, is fine with me,” he offered.

Wow, he’s direct, I like that, she mused. And without hesitation she typed one word, Yes, and hit send.

The response back was almost instantaneous. He was glad she responded and they should make plans. Perhaps Friday, after work? He suggested a restaurant she was familiar with, not on her favorites list, but oh well, time for new things all around. She typed back that was fine, how about 6:30? That would give her time to freshen up after work before heading there. He said that was perfect and was looking forward to it. Then said he needed to go because he had something to attend to but would be counting the days till Friday. And just like that it was done.

The week went by so slowly. Somewhere along the line she had made what she now knew was a mistake, she told her friends of the upcoming rendezvous. They all had so much to say; the single ones gave suggestions on topics for conversation and what to wear; the married ones were living vicariously through her, imagining a Cinderella experience. Thursday rolled around and when she arrived home from work she decided it was time to decide on an outfit to wear. She could just go in her work clothes, simple business casual? Perhaps an elegant sun dress, flowing and light? Or she could change into jeans and a youthful top to seem more “hip”. Was hip a word anyone used any more, oh my she was so out of step. In the end she decide to wear what made her feel most comfortable and herself, jean jacket over her favorite t-shirt and a pair of leggings with brown suede booties. Nice.

On Friday the work day seemed to trudge a long at a snail’s pace. A few texts and calls from friends who were all so excited for her made it seem exciting as opposed to nerve wracking! At long last it was time to head out. A quick trip to the ladies, a little blush, lipstick and run the brush through her hair and she was ready. She gazed at herself in the mirror and smiled, proud of herself for taking this step. Even if he wasn’t Prince Charming, she was glad she had been brave. It was a first step.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she told the hostess she was meeting someone. The hostess said she had not yet seated anyone who mentioned they were waiting for another, but she could seat her to wait. The hostess smiled knowingly and brought her to a small table in the back. Hostess said she would keep and eye out for him and gave her a wink. The waiter came by, “Can I get you something while you wait?”

“Sure” she smiled and said “A glass of red wine, please.”

“Do you have a preference?” he queried.

“Surprise me.” She replied. There's that abandon again, she thought.

The wine arrived, she sipped and played on her phone. Waiter came back, “Would you like another?”

She glanced at the time, 7pm, “One more.” She said, beginning to wonder if he had been delayed. Second glass of wine went down faster than the first. 7:30 still no Prince. She should have gotten his phone number, at least then she could have texted him to see what the delay was. Eventually, she gave up.

“Can you bring the check, please?” The waiter complied. She placed her debit card out and finished paying. She saw the waiter and the hostess talking. She felt embarrassed. How stupid of her to have thought this could be real.

She drove home carefully. While two glasses of wine in an hour and half didn’t likely put her over the legal limit, still caution was good. Arriving home, she was past , now she was past being embarrassed, now she was just mad.

Home safe she poured another glass of wine and flipped open the computer. I’ll just give him a piece of my mind; how dare he treat anyone with such disregard. Signed into the site and looked for him, but the profile was gone. Maybe she mistyped, tried again with the same result. She took a sip and thought, “His loss”. She deleted her profile and the dating site and got ready for bed. As she considered the entire event, from start to unfortunate finish, she still felt good about it in spite of the outcome. She had been brave; she had been assertive and after all tomorrow was another day.