The Race is On...

The Race is On…

So, pulling my beautiful lace big girl panties up and moving on, I turned to friends for a date excursion and introduction. I trusted that they have known me for years and would know what I liked, didn’t like and would surely find me a guy.

One afternoon, my friend Julie called to say she knew this banker guy, Bill, that was single and a super guy; a little older than I, but he liked golf and boating too. Had two kids in college, and would probably be a lot of fun to hang out with. I said sure, I would like to meet him and go from there. Julie arranged a quick meet together over a lunch shared with a group of people. He was handsome, but definitely a little older than what I would ideally choose, but hey, I am up for meeting new people. He had a good sense of humor and indeed when we started talking about golf, I really became interested. Plus, he threw in a little banking knowledge and I was in-like Flynn! He asked for my number and I gave it-easy as that.

Over the next few weeks we talked on the phone quite a bit. He called in the mornings while I was making my way to the office just to see what my big plans for the day consisted of. How nice! He shared his multiple meeting schedules and how busy the banking business was. I was interested. After all, I was in charge of my finances now and getting the “inside” scoop was really cool! One day when he asked if I would like to get together over the weekend, I said sure, why not. When he told me maybe Sunday after church he could pick me up and make me dinner, I was completely in awe! WOW!! This guy is going to make me dinner! How cool is that? “Plus,” he said, “the race is on.”

Well, over the next few days, I thought about that last sentence: the race is on. What race? The Preakness is on Saturday’s. Triple Crown isn’t even close to happening. What in the world code is that he is speaking? The race is on…perplexing. Just running with it, yes, the race is on…whatever that means.

Sunday service was great! I was half listening to the pastor preach, but rejoicing in the good ol’ gospel music and singing praises of “I have a date” after this. After service, I drove to the parking lot of our rendezvous point to meet Bill. He picked me up in his Jeep and we headed off to his house on the water for the race. He was wildly excited and talking about his home made chicken salad he would be making and it was his grandmother’s recipe. How sweet; he’s showing a sensitive side and even sharing grandma’s recipe with me. There’s some potential here. We drove for what seemed like an hour, way back through winding roads, swamp land…Where the hell is this guy taking me? Finally, we turned off the highway onto a small, two lane paved road skirting the waterway lined with old colonial style homes and beautiful landscaped lawns. He turned left into the driveway of a quaint, colonial cottage. How cute! There were pretty flowers in the bed and roses in full bloom: a girl could really like this garden!

As we entered the cottage through the side door, he politely showed me the restroom through the kitchen and then did something so man-cave-like: sat comfortably in the big chair and turned on the television, exclaiming “the race is on!” Without certainty of what he was talking about, I asked “What race?” THE RACE”, he explained. Clueless, I asked what race again. Well, the answer was right there in front of me: on full 52 inches of high definition, complete with surround sound- Nascar. A bunch of cars lined up getting ready to go. Are you kidding me? I know nothing of Nascar and auto racing! Being a gentleman, he tried to explain. For probably forty minutes I watched these cars go round and round, bumping into each other, spinning, stopping, re-starting and all the while he is trying to explain the who’s who of auto-racing, positioning, why they are jockeying for position, the pay out at the end, etc. It was totally reminding me of Larry the Cable Guy’s short skit on auto-racing and the maxi sliding into position! That is truly the extent of my knowledge on Nascar. What is going on? Despite Bill’s attempts to share his obvious passion of auto-racing, I wasn’t buying it. And, I was stuck-in a house across from the water and inside on a beautiful Sunday afternoon watching colorful hamsters…aka cars…go round and round on some track. It was loud and obnoxious and completely out of my realm of knowledge, much less my interest.

So, I did what any good girl would do: excused myself to go for a walk and check out the waterfront neighborhood filled with mosquitoes and pray to be carried away on this glorious, God given Sunday! As I walked the great outdoors, I thought of Rule #2: Never get stranded without a way out! I probably walked outside for an hour, returning to find him in the exact same spot he was in when I left: that big, chair in front of the boob-tube watching cars go round and round! What to do? In jest, I was thinking that John Lennon song: I’m just sittin’ here watchin’ the wheels go round and round…I really love to watch them roll.” Oh wait, that might have been a different trip! I grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags and headed out to the garden to pull weeds. Yep, you are reading correctly. I did bag some five bags of yard debris and weeds in Bill’s yard for the next hour or so while the race was on! He was lucky…a cute, yard girl for free! A little different than a pool boy, but a yard girl just the same! All he really needed me to say was, “honey, can I get you a cold one?” and it was a dream come true! What a joke! By this time, I was wondering: where’s grandma’s chicken salad?

To my surprise, he came out side and announced the final thirty laps, which means the race would soon be over. It was the most exciting time of the race, according to Bill. In my brunette head I was thinking: “my dream has come true-the nightmare is ending!” My stomach is eating my backbone and there’s no sign of any chicken doing anything, much less cookin’!” He couldn’t believe I had been out pulling weeds, but thanked me none the less and invited me in to share the last moments of the race. He continued to explain the minor bumps and crashes, who pushed who out of what lead and it would all be over in maybe thirty minutes. Thank God! As one crash led to another; finally that damn checkered flag was waved. Then, without a beat another crash-it was all over! The winner of the race was the one in the lead at the time of the crash. What? You are kidding, right? They can’t even finish, like the horses and cross the finish line? Nope! The race was over.

What a ridiculous day! And the day wasn’t even done. I still had to wait for chicken salad and take that hour long ride through the winding trails of North Carolina and drive back to Virginia. The chicken couldn’t cook fast enough and I couldn’t eat any faster than my kids trying to scarf down a once-in-a-blue moon McDonald’s happy meal! By the drive back, I was spent. My patience meter was pegged and I was working that last bit, digging deep. Poor Bill was still going on and on about the race while I was looking out the Jeep window counting trees as they passed by. Arriving at the my car, I bid a cordial good-bye to Bill and thanked my lucky stars this day was done-stick a fork in that one!

Older and wiser....

Back on the playing field I go. Ready or not dating world, here I come! I took a few dates here and there, none beyond the one date wonder thing and only to find more interesting stories to share.

One day a friend of a friend invited me to a political function. Knowing I had spent the last twenty years in somewhat of a political behind the scenes life being active in all areas: local, state and national politics. My interest was peaked to meet a new and up and coming local political figure, to put it mildly. The hostess was one I had known both casually as well as through work, so I was comfortable going solo to the evening gathering just as I do to most anything. It was a private, by invitation only night, so I knew the caliber of folks attending would be on at least some level the same as mine. And, I was not the least bit surprised: all attendees were conversationally adept and interested in not only bettering their local community, but learning how they could be an integral part of making the lives of others better. I met many new folks, but one in particular paid a special interest in me.

Alex was on the board of a local development group and private business owner. Being on a local board myself for community development, I was interested in his take on the current economic plans, redevelopment initiatives and just overall perspective of the community. We exchanged business cards and he promised to call. Although Alex was much older than I, probably a good twenty-five years or so, I thought to myself this could be an interesting friendship and sharing, networking and becoming yet more involved in what I thought was important. Alex called multiple times over the next few weeks and each time I was impressed with his knowledge of our local community and how our little corner of the world played a role in the greater scheme of life outside. When he invited me to attend a once a month meeting and social of a select group of movers and shakers, I agreed.

I wore the traditional black pant suit and arrived on time, maybe even a bit fashionably late. I didn’t want to interrupt any real business, but wanted to meet and greet those in the group. Alex immediately came to me as I entered the room and nestled me into a corner spot with two chairs, open to viewing all. But, without my realizing it, Alex was standing in front of me, shielding me from all the others. He ordered drinks for us and continued to guard me. One by one as others tried to enter the “safe zone” I had not accomplished anything I set out to do: meet others! Alex talked briefly of who’s who, pointing them out politely, but never introduced me to any of them, only hiding me in the corner. After nearly an hour of this, what I considered bull shit, bee shit or horse shit, I was ready to leave. Alex announced that he was ready to grab a bite to eat and a few were heading out to a different spot, could I join them? Why, yes…maybe, just maybe I could meet someone and see what might be, where their thoughts were and get possibly involved.

We entered location number two for the night: small tapas bar downtown and sat at the bar area, while two others joined us from the original spot. Finally I was actually meeting some others! He ordered a full on meal size of tapas while I said I would just pick from his, if okay. He said sure and ordered a nice wine to accompany. The two others quickly disappeared when the food arrived and it was just the two of us. Well, there were others in the bar, but not in our group of now two at the bar. As Alex devoured the tapas, he asked out of the blue: “So where do you see us?” Not sure what he was asking or if he had been drinking long before I showed up, I said, “What do you mean?” He calmly, without a beat, said…”you know, us?” By then, my radar had honed in on, “Houston, we have a problem.” And, I calmly said, “Oh, we are friends.” I had barely gotten the words off my tongue when he LOUDLY and with much elongation, exclaimed, “FRRRIEEENDDSSS!” Well, I could have crawled under the freakin’ bar at this point, because every single head in that tapas bar turned towards us! Not knowing exactly what to do to calm the situation, I tried to explain that I thought we were meeting to have him introduce me to others and get my involvement for future projects; he’s like my father’s age and that’s just not something I am into. I kept trying to explain as best I could and as calmly without trying to add fuel to the fire that he’s a nice guy, but just too old for me and what I was looking for in dating someone.

Obviously that world traveler, but not worldly side of me was blind sided! Alex was thinking otherwise! Where did that come from? No clue! But, it got worse…without a doubt! Alex proceeded to verbally share all his talents with me. No, not the kind that he plays the violin or is an acclaimed pianist and has produced several cd’s and toured Europe in his youth. The kind of talents that leave a girl thinking: why is he telling me this? Isn’t half the fun experiencing it verses telling someone? What one girl likes, the other may think is freaky or downright weird. Plus, I am a good twenty five years or so younger than him…yuck! That’s like thinking of me and my dad-sick! Not going to happen! Oh my God, I have to get out of here! But, you guessed it, he kept going on. I have no idea what was going through his big or little head; either way, I was SO not interested! Without much hesitation as he rambled on, I decided: “Check please!” And did a disappearing act even Houdini himself would be impressed by! Walked away realizing, older does not mean wiser but only more skeletons in the closet and probably more cooties than I care to deal with!

Roger that...

One night while the children were away with their dad, I decided to make my way towards the ocean front and try my hand at pool. Hadn’t played in a long time, but understood the game somewhat and just like with golf, execution of actually getting the ball to go where you want it to and doing it requires some skill. Plus, I admit I was a little bummed with nothing planned and no real plans for the weekend. Off to the beach I go! I checked in at the bar of a local pool hall and karaoke bar combination. Before long I had “picked up” a pool partner. A few tables into it, the guy introduced himself as Roger and we started to share a few laughs at my inept skills at a game I somewhat understood, but obviously had little to no skills at. Nearing midnight we exchanged numbers and thought to return another night, driving our separate ways.

A few phone calls and at least a week or so later, in fact I think it was even three weeks later, I met Roger out at a cute little beach restaurant and bar area close to the beach but equal driving distance for the two of us. Everything was going pretty good until another girl approached and started bubbling over with “OMG…Roger, I haven’t seen you in nearly six years! Great to see you again; it’s been too long! You look so good! Who’s your girlfriend; she’s so cute!” Issues already arising in my little head: one, she’s getting on my nerves with being too charismatic and two, I am not his girlfriend. I’m just the date for the night. Roger began an introduction saying with assertion: “Rachel, this is Kelly. Kelly, this is Rachel.” We exchanged “nice to meet you’s” and she continued to bubble over with questions for me about how many kids do you have? Do you live locally? What do you do? and more absolute digging deeper than my comfort of questioning for a true stranger. After about ten minutes of questions and I’m sure sensing that I was not on trial here, she excused herself and said “nice to meet you, Kelly.” I said
‘same to you” and walked away. When she was completely out of ear shot range, I turned to Roger and announced rather smoothly, “Oh, by the way, my name is not Kelly. Kelly is my sister and one of my closest friends, but you wouldn’t know that because we really only started talking a few weeks ago” Of course, by this he was a bit embarrassed and asked if he really called me Kelly. I answered a short and simple: “yes!” Maybe Kelly was an old girlfriend or someone I reminded him of. Either way, I basically turned around and started walking towards the door thinking to myself while laying a $10 bill on the bar for the one drink I had: “Roger that, over and out!” A phrase heard before, but never really used myself…until now!

It was truly probably one of the quickest one date wonders out there in my few, but growing experiences. It’s a huge joke now between my closest friends and I when we are truly ready to rid ourselves of any situation, whether work or personal, we simple laugh and say…”Roger that, over and out!”