I generally consider myself an outgoing sociable person despite the fact I love living alone and rarely go out on, what would be considered, an official date. Yet, my ego was very flattered when a handsome guy at the end of a Bikram yoga class introduced himself, asked if I was single, then asked for my phone number and if we could have dinner some time.
Since we were both avid yogis, I suggested brunch after a Saturday morning yoga class at the restaurant just next door. A little number I often referred to as a “detox/retox,” given that the weekend brunch buffet included two mimosas.
We talked later that night after I’d attended a happy hour event with the regional recruiter from the insurance company that I’d recently joined. We had such a lively conversation as I drove home, which continued well after I arrived home. We talked so much that my ol’ ass iPhone 5 died. I had to plug it in and call him back. Of course he clowned me about that.
Turns out that we had a lot in common. In addition to being avid Bikram yogis and alpha personalities, we’d both published our first books in 2011. So, we agreed to bring a copy of our book to exchange at the restaurant.
I thought this date would be a slam dunk, starting with a HIIT yoga fusion class to work up an appetite, then eating at my favorite restaurant. I arrived at the restaurant first. I thought he was doing a “pretty boy” number, taking longer than the average woman to get ready. Turns out, he’d reentered the hot room to talk with the instructor after he’d already showered and changed, which was a curious choice given the fact that he broke out into another sweat!
Meanwhile, I sat in the waiting area and texted him that I’d put our name on the list for a table for two. A few minutes later, he came and apologized since he hadn’t seen me leave. Mildly irritated, I gave him a pass.
When the hostess led us to our booth, which was the last one in the row, closest to the kitchen, he shot past me, exclaiming, “I’m the alpha male! I gotta see everything,” before I could take that seat. I was shocked, but since he hadn’t actually tackled me, I sat in the spot facing the blank white tiled wall.
Know how I know that last detail? Because I stared at that blank white tiled wall and fumed while cursing in my head every time he fucked around with his phone. Every. Five. Minutes. Definite deal breaker. Who doesn’t know in this day and age that if you’re not referencing your phone as an integrated part of the conversation, then it’s rude.
Throughout our brunch, I replayed in my head how this man across from me seemed so enthusiastic to have a meal with me to get to know me. How he insisted that he have the seat with the view just in case “something happened” and he had to save me, which how in the hell would THAT happen when constantly bowed his head to his all-mighty electronic device?
I would have been far more entertained doing my usual thing of eating in front of the TV, then logging on to sell insurance, but no, I’d agreed to a date. So I could stare at a wall. Some people see the writing on the proverbial wall. I envisioned writing this piece.
I played it cool. I didn’t want to bring up any of the arguments that were going through my head because I didn’t want to run the risk of him showing his ass in public. After all, this was one of my favorite restaurants. I knew one of the owners. The long term strategy was to bide my time and not leave any publicly memorable bullshit involving me in the minds of the staff.
During one brief interlude when he directed his attention away from his electronic master, I explained that I’d recently switched insurance jobs because I wanted an easier, more profitable job since I was saving up money to move. I told him about how the last time I’d renewed my lease, the leasing agent had been so condescending toward me that I knew I wouldn’t renew it again.
His eyes lit up. “What you can do is move into one of my properties, then we’ll secretly rent your apartment and split the profits.”
“Secretly” must be the new word for “illegally.”
Either I had a poker face or his attention diverted to his phone before he could witness my expression change. Did this fool just provide yet another stopper? As if his phone addiction wasn’t enough.
So, he really expected me to commit a crime with a man I’d just met, and for which I’d be the sole one going down or at least getting the brunt of the consequences since my name was on the lease.
I couldn’t end that date fast enough. Normally, I’d hang out eating and talking for nearly two hours. I was outta there in record time.
I asked for the check while he was on the phone, setting up a massage appointment. I laid down my credit card and he threw down some cash. At least Alpha Male knew he should pay for himself. While he was still on the phone, he whispered across the table to me, “I included tip,” when he saw me signing my credit card receipt. I glared at him and said, “I know how to calculate 20%,” then finished filling it out.
He managed to finish his conversation with the massage therapist as we walked to our cars. I gave him a quick hug and hopped into my car without a lot of parting words.
And still.
He texted me about getting together the next day! I truthfully told him that I had plans, but added that we both needed to find betas. He couldn’t believe that after one date that I didn’t want seconds. Younger me would have pointed out the stoppers, but middle aged me knows that’s what you do when you want to work things out.
Please.
There are easier starts to relationships and why kick the can down the road as our two dominating personalities battle it out?
My philosophy is that every potential boyfriend will be a fixer upper, but I still envision that as “tweaks” and not major personality/bad habit reconstruction. I’ve already got many other things to do.
