the doctor is in...

By now my new best friends at the dating service were helping me out and setting me up on as many dates as I would take: lunch here, dinner there, drinks after work. I would even be open for a quick coffee if that’s what would work best for the guy. (Notice a little giving trait here-personality flaw or feather…you decide.) I just wanted to experience dating. So much had changed in the last twenty years and despite many one date’s, I was determined to keep going. One Friday night I had a work/ community function to attend. The art exhibit was a private showing featuring a local artist in which proceeds would be donated to a local charity. So up my alley and interest level! One problem, the dating service called and there’s a doctor looking at Friday night after work drinks, could I squeeze them both in? Well, why yes I can!

I showed up just a little early to the little bar/ restaurant downtown and did a quick rush to the ladies room to freshen up after working all day. When I came out, my date had arrived; he was medium built and Italian looking features and handsome, but not stop a train G Q quality either. He introduced himself as Rob and we set foot towards a little booth in the back corner. We each ordered a glass of wine and a quick appetizer to share. He was really easy to talk to, although I think he was a bit more nervous than I. After all, I was getting use to interviewing as well as being interviewed at this point. We each took turns explaining simple things: hobbies, interests, travel, etc. Then, he asked if I knew he was a doctor and I said yes. Our conversation turned somewhat medical, but not the least bit boring to me. For my job, I am around physicians, surgeons, patients and families often in a medical crisis. I am comfortable in the medical arena- to a certain point, minus any blood and guts stories. I listened intently as he described the specifics of his job. It truly was interesting. You can call me a geek, but I like numbers, which is probably why statistics and math were some of my more fun subjects in school and he was happy to share numbers and more statistics.

Before I knew it, that one hour time slot was almost over and the art exhibit was about to begin. Because of the content, I thought he might just enjoy seeing that side of medicine outside of the numbers and the office or hospital. He was, how shall I say it? …like an eager beaver on a log in the lake! We decided to take my car-a control thing for me, and he could ride along. Once at the art exhibit, where the liquor and wine as well as the heavy appetizers were complimentary, he handed me a glass of wine and had a few himself. Because I was “working the room” and saying my hello’s after promising just an hour, I truly lost track of him and his location at the exhibit. The exhibit wasn’t huge, but there were probably a good 100 people or so there for the two floors. Probably because I am so use to attending these types of events or functions solo, I wasn’t too attentive in all honesty to him. After almost an hour, he came to me and announced he was ready to leave and get some real food. As we walked out from the exhibit, he said he wanted to drive to a place across town. Well, I was sensing a tad difference in his gait and thought he might even be a little intoxicated. We were walking to my car and he grabbed my hand to hold…wait just a minute, friend! Hold it, right there…I’m not ready for that!

We arrived at a small restaurant downtown, against his desire to go clear across town, but really close to our original meeting spot. When we sat at the table, before the waitress even had a chance to go over specials or anything, he ordered a bottle of “the nicest red wine you have for my lady friend and me to share.” RADAR! Mayday, I think we are getting ready to crash! But, dismissed the hypersensitivity side as, well, that could be nice to share. He ordered a real meal, meat and potatoes with a salad while I ordered a light fish smaller portioned meal. As the meal was being prepped in the kitchen, we continued small talk and he drank one after another glass of wine. I had barely finished my first glass and he was already on his third when our food arrived. By this time, I had truly honed in to the fact he was indeed intoxicated and I was sharing my night with a nervous and probable man who had some issues with at least alcohol, maybe more. Then, out of some strange, neurotic twist he started to shove a bite of his steak towards my mouth. Oh no way! You are not feeding me or even trying to! That only happens when you love someone and you are sweetly sharing…not like this! But, he was…and I turned away.

Then, I heard the melodious sounds of Bocelli playing in the background. Trying desperately to change an awkward moment into something…anything, I asked if he knew who was singing. He did and I asked if he understood what Bocelli was singing in Italian. Well, to my surprise he did, affirming that first impression of Italian features. Having spent almost five years living in Italy, I understood most of what was being sung and asked, “Ti parla italiano?” (Do you speak Italian?) and with a look of love and wonder, he said, “ma certo, Roberto mi chiama.” (But of course, my name is Robert-in italian). So our conversation turned to Italy and his parents having emigrated from Sicily, coincidentally where I had lived. I thought maybe things might turn around. Nope, not that lucky because he announced that his parents were now living in New York and “they are going to love you!” What did you say? Did you just they “they are going to love you?” Why, yes you did! I know my ears did not deceive me and as he leaned over to kiss me, I said, “I think it’s time for me to go.” I’m pretty sure we sat in almost silence until the waitress came. He polished off the remainder of the wine, paid for the meal and I was doing the fast walk race to my car, with him trailing behind.

As we drove on to meeting place number one, I honestly was going at least ten miles over the posted 15 limit for the city and praying not to be pulled over by one of those little cop cars with two wheels and a helmet policing the city streets at night. I don’t need that too tonight! I have had about all I can handle for the Friday! Lord, my plate is full-no more mashed potatoes please! I can’t remember anything he said as I drove to the original meeting place. I know I was thinking the seconds seemed like hours and the minutes were like days. He did explain that he parked in the parking garage as we were getting closer. Too freakin’ bad, buddy, your ass is getting kicked to the curb, literally. Out he went onto the side street as I waved good-bye and good riddance! Way too much for me on this night-or wait, better to say he had too much! I'm sure we've all heard they old saying: the doctor is “in” but for me, this doctor was “out!”