When It Rains, It Pours


 

It’s been raining for two weeks, thunderstorms with cracks loud enough to lift me out of my chair and rain falling so hard it bounces up from the pavement like a kid jumping double-dutch.

 And it’s been pouring dates. Last Monday, I went to Sedona to meet Mr. Vortex. I named him this when he suggested we meet at a coffee shop, then adjourn to a red rock vista to fill up with the energy of the vortex. He was a massage therapist and I thought perhaps body nirvana was in my future.

I drove to the Firecreek Coffee Shop. It was one in the afternoon and I arrived before him. He texted me to let me know he was running late. I don’t drink coffee, only tea. They had no black tea, so I ordered iced green tea. It was awful. I sat down at a table and started to read.

Mr. Vortex showed up, looking like his profile photo from Plenty of Fish. He got himself a cup of water but didn’t order anything. He started the conversation talking about cranial sacral therapy and an institute he had attended in California to learn it. I was getting bored until we segued on to our families. We got into our philosophies of life. He was into transmigration of souls and was a bit taken aback by my total lack of belief. Then he got into “Everything happens for a reason.” I told him that didn’t work in my life. I saw no reason why my daughters were killed in a plane crash. He answered that I had a lesson to learn from a previous life. That reminded me of why I broke up years ago with Mr. Spiritual Journey. He gave me the same line and I didn’t accept it then or now.

After a few minutes, I told Mr. Vortex that our philosophies were too disparate for a relationship.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said as I got up and headed out into the pouring rain.

 On Tuesday afternoon, Mr. GQ drove up from Phoenix to see me. We have a casual relationship that suits both of us. We had a good time hanging around downtown Flagstaff.

On Thursday, I did a quick trip to the Valley. I had to pick up some things at my home in Scottsdale. I had breakfast with my youngest son and his fiancé at The Cracked Egg. Their $4.99 breakfast can’t be beat.

I met The Zookeeper at the Musical Instrument Museum. It was our second date. I call him The Zookeeper because that was his job for ten years at The Phoenix Zoo. Now he’s a teacher. He texted me to let me know that it was Teacher Month at the museum, and if I had a school ID, admission was free. I dug out my retired teacher ID from Alhambra School District. What a deal!

I was disconcerted to see him limping toward me. The last date we had was at a Starbuck’s, and I didn’t notice the limp. He said his knee was hurting but he would be fine. He was dressed nicely in a long-sleeved striped oxford shirt and khaki pants.

I wanted to see the exhibits from Africa, particularly Tanzania, since I’m going there in October. He looked miserable walking around, but he soldiered on. When my head was too full of music to tell the differences from one country to another, we went to the café for a drink. I had Diet Coke while he had a lemonade and yogurt.

We talked about our families, his job and my writing. This man wants to get married, which I nixed on the first date. I told him honestly that I didn’t know if I could live with anyone. There was hope, as a friend had lived with me for five months while her condo was being re-done. But I do like the freedom to eat ice cream for breakfast with no one giving me the stink eye. He didn’t seem the type who would censure my terrible eating habits.

I do like him and will see him again when I’m in the Valley. We made a date for dinner after his first day of school with the students. I’m going slowly with this one, as he has the possibility of more than a casual relationship.

I haven’t sent out any more messages to men on the dating website. I think I’ll wait to see how things with The Zookeeper turn out.

 

 

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