Mistaken Identity

Abby’s making gift bags while Savy finishes the photo frames

I spent the day with my grandkids (Abby and Savy) baking cookies, finishing presents, and going to a play of Junie B. Jones:  Jingle Bells, Batman Smells. My friend Joan came over to help me with the baking. we all had a good time but I was ready to deliver the kids home in the late afternoon.

I received many messages from different guys from a dating website today. I finally noticed it after I left my son’s house. These emails seem to come in cycles. There will  be weeks when I get no interest and then a few weeks when I’m a hot prospect. I have no idea why. As I’ve stated before, I’m reactive not proactive on the dating website. I never go looking at guys’ profiles. That says something about me but I’m not sure what except that I’m the opposite of desperate.

One of the fellows wanted to meet me tonight. I figured what the heck. I could use a cocktail and some adult company. I agreed to meet Daniel at Eddie’s House, one of my  favorite Happy Hour places. I went home, put on makeup and changed my clothes. I called Daniel to tell him I was on the way. I thought he said he was already there.

When I walked into the restaurant there was only one single guy and he was sitting at the bar. walked up to him, smiled at him and said “hi.” He smiled back and I sat down next to him at the bar. I asked him what he was drinking and he said vodka and grapefruit juice. Definitely not my thing. I ordered a lemon drop. He asked the bartendar where his flatbred was. I was surprised that he had already ordered.

He didn’t look anything like his photo from the website but that’s not unusual.He looked like Kirk Douglass, in his later years. He barely gave me a chance to talk. He went on and on about his farms in Nebraska, his house in Prescott on the Arnold Palmer golf course, and his place in Costa Rica.

When his flatbread arrived, he put it in front of himself and didn’t offer me any. I knew right then I’d never agree to meet him again. I ordered my own Happy Hour food, a steak quesadilla. This guy went on and on about all the big shots he knew.

I did notice a good looking fellow a few seats down the bar. He looked a lot more interesting.

When my date asked for the check, the bartendar asked me If I wanted mine. I don’t expect every guy to pay for my drink, but even the bartendar knew this guy was cheap. I paid my bill, anxious to get away from him.

I took out muy phone and looked at it. There were quite a few calls and texts from Daniel. How was that possible? I had just spent a very long hour with him. So I listened to part of one message asking where I was. What? I called him and the guy I’d been talking to didn’t answer. I looked around and the guy at the end of the bar was on his phone! That was Daniel, the guy I was supposed to meet. I hung up and moved to the bar stool next to him. He told me he had waited outside the door for twenty miutes and figured I had stood him up. I was so embarrassed I wanted to melt into the bar.

He was a good sport about it and we laughed and laughed. That felt terrific. He had already made another “meet and greet” appointment since I hadn’t showed. I’m sure he’ll never call me and I don’t blame him. Next time I meet someone I am definitely going to confiem that I’m speaking to the person I promised to meet.

 

 

 

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A Nine Hour First Date

 

I never took myself off the dating site POF (Plenty of Fish.) Occasionally I get emails. This past month I’ve gotten quite a few. Since The Roadie hasn’t contacted me for a month, I’m assuming that dalliance is over. It was a delightful nine month ride.

I agreed to meet a man from POF on Saturday. He said he lived in East Mesa and suggested we meet for coffee. I chose Merci Café, a French patisserie and restaurant near my house and he agreed.

The first good sign was that he looked like the photo on POF. I look like mine, maybe not as good, but close. We immediately recognized each other. I had tea, he had coffee and we talked. And talked. And talked. We shared a dark chocolate tart. Yummy and rich. He enjoys a good dessert, another good sign.

I had to go to Radio Shack, next door to the café, to buy a holiday present. He accompanied me and was surprised and liked my choice. Another point for him.

He likes old cars. He drives a 1980 something Mercedes hard top sports car. He suggested we take in the Car Show at The Pavilions. It’s on every Saturday afternoon and evening. Not my thing, but it was a gorgeous day, so I agreed. After perusing the cars he asked me to dinner at the nearby Chipotle. I hadn’t eaten there in ages and it was good. We kept talking.

He suggested going out but I told him I had to write 1,500 words for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month.) The challenge is to write 50,000 words of your novel during the month of November. I was close, but it was November 29, so I was under a deadline. He came over and read The Times I hadn’t gotten to while I knocked out the chapter.

After I was finished we went the The Rhythm Room and listened to Tommy Dukes. Another two points for him. He likes to listen to live music and dance.

Tommy Dukes Band

Whom should I see but Roger Smith, the bass player for The Monday Night Blues Band? That’s the band the Gal Pals from Munds Park follow around Flagstaff. Roger plays with Tommy’ band, too. My date, now christened The Car Guy, and I listened and danced to the mellow and lively music.

So the date was nine hours long. I gave him my cell phone number and he’s texted me every day since but hasn’t suggested getting together. Hmm. Is the ride with The Car Guy over?