dating is a lot of effort (lyn)

First, you have to put on makeup.  Even mascara.  I prefer a natural look, but every date deserves some blush and lipstick.  Next, you have to think about what to wear.  I could never have done this a year ago when nothing fit.  At least I have options now.  And then there’s all the wondering.  Will he like me?  Will I like him?   If I don’t like him why do I still want him to like me?  I’m immediately transported to my high school self.  I wish I could just magically find someone, fall in love, and live happily ever after.  A part of me still believes that that can happen. 

So tonight I’m having dinner with, let’s call him Jack, because I like the name.  He seems nice on the phone, has a college aged daughter, and even knows someone I know.  From his picture, he does not appear to be my type though I’m no longer sure what my type is.  I guess it’s someone who can give me butterflies.  That covers a lot of territory.  I know he cannot be fat.  Unintelligent.  Or too serious.  A sense of humor is critical.  And at this stage in my life he needs to be financially secure.  At least one of us should be.

I wear my size 4 black pants, a size 4 black leather short fitted motorcycle jacket, and my favorite new purchase-fur-lined suede clogs with 21/2 inch heels that are surprisingly comfortable.  I feel tall and thin and hip.  It’s amazing what a few inches can do.  

Jack is already seated when I arrive at the restaurant.  He is perfectly nice.  We talk.  He tells me about himself.  He asks me about me.  We have a few things in common.  He has good manners.  There is nothing about him not to like. When he tells the waiter we’re in no hurry I think, oh no, this is could be a long night.

I decline the offer of bread and Jack says, “Why?  You certainly don’t need to worry about your weight.”  He doesn’t know how I’ve spent the past year.  We split a salad of hearts of palm, avocado, and tomatoes, with a citrus dressing.  It arrives and we both notice its size, or lack thereof.  It is miniscule.  I order a veal scaloppini with peas and olives and spinach which is great.  We skip dessert and coffee.  Dinner is excellent.

But not even one little butterfly accompanies me home.