The guy--let's call him Mr. First Date (or Mr. FD for short). Mr. FD calls on a Saturday afternoon. Instead of asking me out for that same night, he is calling to ask me out for the following Friday. Planning ahead and expecting me to already have plans tonight, I think. This is a good sign already. Even better, he has the idea for the date already planned out when he calls. Too bad, Mr. FD... I have a work event this Friday night. (Seriously, I really did. But that sure worked out great, didn't it? hehe...)
We make plans for Thursday instead, and he asks if he can call me back later in the week with the details of our outing. No problem, I say, that would be great. And later in the week, he does just that. We are going to a jazz concert and dinner at a nice, but not too nice, restaurant. Creative, trying to impress me for sure, but not too crazy. So far, so good, Mr. FD.
On Thursday, he picks me up at 7:00. After opening the car door for me, we stop for a drink to kill time before the concert. Over a drink, we chat about work, living in Miami, out-of-work interests, etc. Conversation is easy, and he is very likeable.
Of course, my dumb luck has to intervene at some point....
We arrive at the concert and run smack into a lady that I teach with—Mrs. A. Now, Mrs. A is super nice, so this is not a bad thing. Mrs. A and I had met at the beginning of last school year when we had bonded over the fact that she and my then-husband had both grown up in the same rural area, only 45 minutes apart. Every time Mrs. A and I ran into each other at school, we would talk about her side business, how it was going, and catch up on school gossip and such. So, of course, Mrs. A sees me and Mr. FD in the lobby of the concert and comes right over to say hi:
"Hey there, my dear, how are you? How is your summer going?"
"Great!" I say. "Really enjoying it. Oh, Mrs. A, this is Mr. FD. Mr. FD, Mrs. A."
Mrs. A gives Mr. FD a warm smile, shakes his hand, and then opens her mouth: "Oh so nice to meet you finally! Now, I hear you are from nearby [insert hick town name where she is from]."
My jaw drops. Of course. I'm an idiot. It's not like you start spreading around, "HEY! I'M GETTING DIVORCED! ISN'T THAT FANTASTIC?!" rumors when this stuff happens to you in life. Poor Mrs. A thinks this is my husband!
Mr. FD figures it out quickly (thank goodness) and laughs it off: "Oh, nope—that's someone else...[insert awkward chuckle here]."
She looks confused but moves on to a new topic. Whew. Crisis adverted. Except why is Mrs. A giving me funny looks now and quickly ending the conversation? It takes me a minute or so to figure out that she is now thinking that I am having an affair, since I am out with someone other than my (ex-)husband. Fan-freaking-tastic. First day back to school should be a good time.
So we're in the concert, and, after a while, he casually puts his arm around me, which is totally weird for me since I have not seen this move since I was in college. But still, normal. Normal is good. It's really crowded, so we're sitting pretty close together, but the jazz concert is loud, so we're still having to lean close to talk to each other. At one point, I lean over to say something to him, and he takes my hand and holds it.
Okay, now. We are on the fence of "normal." Is this okay? Do people hold hands on the first date? It's been a while for me, so I'm really not sure. But let's evaluate everything up to this point. So far, Mr. FD was doing everything right:
- Asked me out for a date almost a week in advance;
- Made plans for our date. Didn't just say, "what do you want to do?";
- Picked me up at my place and opened car doors for me—so far, a gentleman; and
- Paid for our tickets. I mean, he invited me out after all...
We decide to leave at intermission and head for dinner, since we both have to work in the morning. We arrive at the restaurant, park in the parking lot, and I'm just about to get out of the car when I feel him put his hand on my arm. I turn my head towards him to see why he's stopping me, and he has already leaned over to me and plants a kiss right smack on my lips.
No, I am totally not kidding. I have been ambushed! Too shocked to do anything to stop it even, I swear. I mean, I was all prepared to defend at the end of the night against any unwelcome goodnight kisses that might or might not be attempted, but halfway through the date? We hadn't even had dinner yet! And speaking of dinner, we still had to sit through it, so what's a girl to do? Pushing him away would have made a longish dinner totally awkward—had I not been completely waylayed and even had the opportunity to push him away before it happened!
Not really knowing what else to do, we go into dinner. While I look at the menu, I am still puzzled by the kiss—obviously this guy is pretty confident that the date is going very well. Did I give some crazy impression that kissing was okay at this point? I am quite sure I have not, so when Mr. FD leans over the table and kisses me again and IN PUBLIC none the less, I decide that Mr. FD is way too presumptuous for me to take this date seriously any longer.
Dinner proceeds to be awkward, despite the fact that I haven't pushed him away twice now (though I should have). We have simply run out of things to talk about—and it certainly doesn't help that he will not stop giving me this stupid puppy-dog-in-love smile all through dinner. I have to go to the restroom just so I won't laugh in Mr. FD's face.
Lesson #1 in Post-Divorce Dating: Be on guard against unwanted affection throughout entirety of date. Men seated next to you are closer (and swifter) than they appear.
Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée
Ahaha! I love that line, "Men seated next to you are closer (and swifter) than they appear." I will have to remember that ;)
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