Well, I'm going to start the ball rolling here by telling on myself, (How's that for a thoroughly lousy job of changing the names to protect the innocent!) . Yesterday evening I returned home from renting four fabulous movies. {"See, I told you I sat home alone a lot! And for the record I will go to my grave wanting to hold and comfort and stand beside Braveheart ...even if he had not been played by Mel Gibson!" } Anyway I returned with my movies to find a message on my answering machine. It was from a dear friend (male) who knew that my children were out of town for the week, and that I enjoy an occasional night out dancing...and flirting too, but we won't mention that. He was calling me to tell me that there was a good band playing at the only reasonably safe and classy nightclub in town that is populated by genuine adults (and not overage teenyboppers) and invited me to join him there and go out for breakfast (Just as we usually do whenever I go out alone, or with girlfriends.). Well...I decided that I would go, not because I particularly wanted to go (No offense to my friend, but I was really tired from working all week designing web pages, etc.), but because I felt that I should go, because I spend too much time in business and not enough, I'm told, in pleasure. (Which I suppose is probably true, when one considers that I haven't been out since Thanksgiving, and the last time before that was in August.).
At any rate I got dressed and went and arrived about 10 p.m. Now you have to understand that this lounge changed ownership a few months ago and stopped having live bands. This action resulted in an almost total loss of customers. (Last Thanksgiving when I was there, my favorite waitress told me that she had made a whole $1.70 in tips on the previous Saturday Night.) . Well my friend was there along with between 50 and 100 people (Probably 1/8th of the crowd that used to congregate there on a Friday or Saturday Night. Apparently they didn't bother to advertise the fact that a band was playing last evening.) . I have a special place that I like to sit, (It's next to the edge of an upper deck, so people can drift over and talk to me and be at ear and eye level without having to sit down or bend over.} This makes for lots of good (and not so good sometimes) company, none of whom feel obligated to continue to hang around when the basic conversational pleasantries are done.. Well, usually I must arrive by 9:00 p.m. (when things are still dead, in order to assure my favorite place. Last night the whole upper level was still empty at 10:00 p.m.. (I told you it was really dead there.) .
Well to make a long story short, (as if it wasn't already far too late for that), here I was dead tired, and dead sober (I seldom drink.) at a dead bar on a Friday night (instead of being home working or watching Guiding Light and movies like I should have been). By 11:00 I was ready to leave, but being a good little Southern Girl I was too polite to mention the fact. By 11:30 I was "really" ready to leave, and I even went so far as to politely mention that fact. My friend said, "let's wait another thirty minutes, and so being a good little Southern Girl I said, "Okay." and went and sat down and began to wait. Five minutes later, I decided that I was "really" wanted to either go eat or go home. So I went back over to my friend (who had apparently just been delivered a fresh beer, and was trying to enjoy it and some conversation), and brightly said, "Has it been 30 minutes yet?" To which he quite nicely replied, "No, it's been about five minutes." So being a good little Southern girl (and for a non-drinker, showing great appreciation for the value of a newly purchased ice cold beer) I replied, as I pointed to a distant, dark, and deserted corner with couches, where the dart board used to be, "Well, please don't feel that you have to hurry, but when you finish your beer I'll be right up there waiting to go to breakfast."
Once firmly ensconsced on a comfortable couch with my shoes off and my feet up (Remember now, I wasn't drinking. At forty one, I don't worry too much about what other people think, as long as my behavior remains basically moral, and ethical.) pulled out the cell phone and called my best female friend and said, "Next time, I decide I'm going out for a night on the town, remind me how much I hate singles bars." To which she replied, "That's only because I'm not there to keep you company, you don't drink, and there aren't any men there for you to flirt with." So I laughed, knowing that she had me firmly pegged, promised I would call to let her know I arrived safely home again, put a pillow behind my head and tried to take a little nap. (I swear, I was not drinking, I was just too tired to face the drive home at that moment. Remember, my kids had been out of town all week, and I had been working 16 to 18 hours per day trying to get the Silver Unicorn up, running, and debugged.)
Well the next thing I know, my friend comes to get me with lovely lady, whom he introduces as a friend, and who he explains would be joining us for breakfast. This was fine with me, but I thought he might like to be alone with her, so I offered to bow out, however, he insisted, that she, like I, was just a friend. So, after two cold, stone sober hours in a dead bar on a Friday Night, I went to breakfast with my pseudo date and his date, (who as it turns out, was celebrating her birthday,) and another couple who were friends with the lady and celebrating their fourth wedding anniversary. (The lady in the other couple had a fascinating illness, that makes her pass out whenever she get cold, (including drinking iced drinks), and she was filled with good brave-hearted, hilarious stories about its effects on her life.) . (I told you I love a good story.) Breakfast, by the way, was lovely, and the lady turned out to be my aunt's dearest friend in the whole world. After breakfast I came home, fought my way through two exuberant collie dogs who missed their mommy dreadfully (and was afraid she was going to be gone a long time too, like their boys were (Remember my kids were visiting their father for the week.), and called my friend to tell her I was home safe again, and went to bed.
Exciting huh? Well, if you think you've had worse dates, then share them. I'll write them up, and everyone can share the fun. Think of it as therapy, after all haven't they always told you that "someday you'll look back and laugh?" Bye Now.
A NOW FOR ANOTHER HORROR TALE!
| Hi: I want to share this with you .....the names have been changed to protect me. I met a man through the on-line Friends & Lovers on Third Age. In his e-mails he seemed all he had stated he was in the profile on Third Age. He and I traded pix and he looked very handsome indeed. A nice suit and a lovely smile and a twinkle in his eyes. He looked as if he was tall as he had said he was. He wanted to meet for lunch. He said it would be a place where we should dress up. The place was in a town about halfway between the two areas where we lived. I got nicely dressed and drove to the meeting place. He was on the telephone when I drove up. I didn't recognize him but he recognized me right away. (I guess I look like the pic I sent him). I followed him to Wendy's for lunch. He was 6' 6" tall, had a bustline larger than mine and was badly in need of a haircut. He looked as if he had shaved without the benefit of a mirror because he had little tufts of hairs in various places on his face. He had Reeboks and white socks and dress pants that might have new when Roosevelt was president and fit him just about then too. His golf shirt was almost clean and had a pocket in it. He had NO teeth in his mouth and kept smiling at me. But, he did pull the teeth from his shirt pocket and put them in to eat his Hamburger. Then they were relegated back to the pocket when he was finished eating. I told him that I had an appointment that I had forgotten about and must leave. I got in my car and drove away down the road in the opposite direction that I lived in and took a very different way home. I certainly don't want anymore surprises from him. When I checked my e-mail that night, there was a message from him telling me what a wonderful time he had. I hit the delete button and blocked him from my PC forever. So things are not the way they seem. But I still have a romantic heart and will keep on looking. Happpyone |
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