First Dates
"Advice for the mid life and melancholy..."
So, I've been dating a little bit lately. Not much and just for coffee. I wear a black suit coat, dress shirt, tie and comfy black denim pants (I've lost weight and can wear them again). I stop and get an inexpensive bouquet of non-committal flowers. I get to the coffee shop a few minutes early and try to secure a pair of comfy chairs in a quiet part of the coffee shop. . . not secluded mind you, just quiet so we can hear each other talk. I don't order coffee for myself yet. This is so that I can get my date's coffee for her when I get mine.
When she arrives I rise and greet her with a compliment on how much lovelier she is in person and I hand her the flowers. . .
Now this is a critical moment so lets freeze frame. . .
There seems to be some correlation between how the flowers are accepted and how the date will turn out. So picking out the right bouquet is important. Roses are iffy. . . If they work then they really work. But they can come across as too romantic for a first time chat. Sunflowers are fun but unwieldy. Lilies are right out. A wild flower mix with a few yellow roses in it seems to be a safe choice. The bouquet should be small enough so that it can be held in one hand and not get in the way on the table. But not so small that they seem like an afterthought.
NOTE: Holding a bouquet can make your date feel more conspicuous so give her time to acclimate to them before escorting her to your table. Like a goldfish being transferred from the pet store to you home aquarium your date will need to orient herself to her surroundings or run the risk of going into shock.
End of freeze frame.
We sit and we talk. With any luck at all I get to listen most of the time. I love a woman who likes to talk. I nod frequently and occasionally make a joke. But mostly I listen. Sometimes when the conversation lags I imagine that I am a talk show host and my date is a famous celebrity who doesn't want to talk about her fame but would rather talk about family or friends or pets or any topic that we might share.
Invariably the conversation turns to her ex (or exes). That is okay. . . I don't mind it. It's an important part of what makes her who she is. I switch to therapist mode, leaning towards her so I can make out her slightly lowered, confidential, voice. She looks around to confirm that neither her ex nor any of his friends are around. I do the same, scanning the shop for people that I have never met and frankly will never meet. Our eyes finish their sweep and meet at mid-table.
This is when things get interesting. This is when you find out what she has gone through and the strength she has to survive it. And the strength it took for her to able to date again.
Each story is unique. They differ in details but not in pain. Losing your spouse is tough no matter how it happens. I used to think that I had it bad but its bad for everybody.
My wife is gone but she did not leave me. We still talk but we never argue. My memories of her will never be tarnished by a contentious court case.
If it's going well, the date will run about an hour or two. I've had a few non-starters where they saw me and left. That's okay. . . I'm not every woman's cup of tea. . .I'll drop the woodstock MD horny girls flowers off at a nearby nursing home.
I ask if I may walk her to her car (making sure that she doesn't see my cluttered, old Toyota pickup truck). We invariably shake hands. Sometimes there is a hug. There never has been a kiss though. That could be my problem. . . I don't 'read' people very well and I may have missed out on a kiss or two.
Then I drive around for about an hour, reviewing and scoring my performance (my current high score is 7.4).
When I get home I write an email to her saying what a good time I had and how charming she was. I can usually tell, or am sometimes told, when my Parkinsons is more than she can handle. In those situations I add a line or two telling her not to feel guilty that I understand and I appreciate her honesty. Because I do. . . I really, really do.
And that is how my first dates go. They very rarely go to a second date, but it doesn't make them any less enjoyable. And I'm not finished yet. . . I'm not striking out, I'm hitting foul balls. But I'm going for Home Runs. . .
-- dtw