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.