"Holy" Art Thou...

Entering the realm of which way to turn after divorce and a great number of faulty first starts on the dating scene, I flicked my arrow and sought yet another round with the dating crew. Couldn’t decide whether to go up the ladder or back two spaces, I ventured into the round of unknown potentials but still counting..ding!ding! with my friendly dating service. Surely there had to be at least a few good dates out there. After all, why would someone pay so much to use their services? Interesting question-don’t answer that!! I mean, I had met some nice, well maybe not the right term, men. But, nope they didn’t make it past the first date. Wait…was it me and I didn’t make it past the first date? Maybe, now there’s something to ponder! Did I have too high of standards? Was I giving off some crazy leach vibe or maybe just a crazy girl vibe? Not sure, but either way I was ready to enter the ring again with nothing to lose and knowledge to gain of what I want and don’t want.

It was a Friday night, Fall just around the corner. The girls had phoned in a request: could I meet this lawyer at the trendy wine bar down from the office say seven thirty? According to my new best friends, he was divorced, early fifties, tall and handsome, successful practice and one child in college. He enjoyed the beach, golf, tennis, running and boating. Okay, I am up for it! Sounds like a plan! Friday night came and I had plenty of time to run home from the office, change into some comfortable but nice going out clothes and certainly no panty hose or heels! I even had time to really shower! Wow, I kind of like the meeting a bit later plan although it’s a bit different than my norm.

I arrived a bit fashionably late thanks to the traffic, but rushed through the door only to be thankful there wasn’t a tall, handsome lawyer like guy pacing the floor awaiting his date. Whew! He’s not here yet! So, I glanced around the room and saw this suited man seated at the darkened bar starring at me. Ewww creepy! I think I will sit at the other end of the bar and await my date who is probably late thanks to traffic too. At the other end of the bar, Mr. Creepy was still eerily starring me down as the bartender took my order. As my wine arrived and I glanced at the television to see Sam Choy’s Hawaiian cuisine show on the Food Network, Mr. Creepy ventured my way. Oh crap! This is not happening…my date is going to walk in any minute and you are going to be embarrassed or more than likely I will. Either way, shoe fly…go away!! But, nope he kept on coming, making his way to the bar chair next to mine. Without much hesitation he asked if I was “Trish” and friends with “Gina?” Oh no…my date is Mr. Creepy! I should have lied, but I didn’t. I answered honestly it was me. (Trish is not my real name.)

We talked pleasantries for the first few minutes as he brought his drink down towards my end of the bar and I couldn’t help but notice as he crossed his legs there was a hole in his sock. Okay, why I noticed I am not sure, but I did. As the ground work was laid as to his successful law practice and his three divorces, one child in college and his knowledge of who’s who of our community, I began to be even more turned off. He was dropping names and titles like flies and I was hoping the bartender would hand me her fly swatter and I could shoe him away-for real! Not going to happen. He asked my schedule and flexibility, specifically stating he was attracted to our near twenty year age difference (What? I thought he was early fifties?) Depending on my schedule, he could meet for breakfast, lunch, dinner or even a quick snack in between. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? YUCK! I think this guy was just hinting at a little afternoon delight, but would be willing to tango anytime and I don’t mean dance either! Gross!!

By now Sam Choy was becoming REALLY interesting to me. For those who have clued in thus far, I’m not a big television fan. But somehow I was drawn to the boob tube and wishing that fly swatter was in my right hand! As Mr. Creepy explained he was an avid runner and had gone home earlier, ran five miles, then headed out to meet me, I couldn’t help but go back to the darkened suit with the pair of socks and large hole. Who puts on a suit after an afternoon jog to go meet a young woman with holes in their sock? At least stop by Walmart and buy a $2.50 pair of gold toes for Pete’s sake!! Cut the guy some slack on the suit part chica, maybe he had a late day court case or something.

Mr. Creepy lawyer guy went on and on about his vacation house abroad, his many trips and how he would love a travel companion for weekend excursions. Before he could get to the part of inviting me down south, however, he did want to ask me a few questions. I was beginning to think a trial on Trish was about to begin. “Okay your honor, I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” with my right hand raised and left on THE book. Asked if I had a sense of faith and belief in a higher power, I answered yes. Do I attend church services regularly? Well, not exactly but often. Pleased with my open and honest answers, he asked about my church and shared his. Then, came the all important question of the evening dropped like an atom bomb in my lap: “Do you believe in premarital sex?” What? Did I just hear you correctly? Oh my! I think I did! Hmm…let me think about this one for a minute, dear sir. My response was a pretty good one if I do say so myself: “one can always pay for just about anything: a lawyer, an accountant, a maid, a nanny, and even a girl-but not this one!”

Sensing my edge and protective barrier raised, Mr. Creepy began to back peddle. He was apologizing for offending me and even offering a refill of my wine, which by this point I was ready to toss whatever was remaining in his face. If you have to ask the question, what is the fun of trying to find out, at least on this subject anyway? The ever time is precious and I am wasting it became quite apparent. The plane had taken a sharp nose dive and he was thinking “May day, May day the plane is going down…we are going to crash! Pull up! Pull up!” Nope, plan B in motion and I am out of here. Check please, no refill of my glass of wine, thanks but no thanks! I would like to say that it all ended there, but it didn’t.

Mr. Creepy paid for my drink and offered to walk me to my car since the sun had set and the parking garage would be dark. Well, that is kind of him. So I accepted the offer and we made our way toward the parking garage. I was nearly sprinting at a fast walkers pace with him politely trailing behind. Once at my car, he moved in for a good night kiss…oh my precious holy art thou Jesus no! Uuuggg! No freakin’ way! Yuck! That’s not happening, but it was. I think I spun my head around so fast one would think I was from that horror film of the 80’s. I jumped in my car faster than a bolt of lightening, closed the door and put it in drive. I couldn’t get out of the parking garage fast enough. I waved a polite goodbye and was gone like the wind under superman’s cape! No phone numbers exchanged, no good night nothings, whew it was over! Thank you, Lord!