Hopeful - Excited - Unsure

And every once in a while you go on a date that can only be described as lovely...  The three hours of conversation were intense, witty, flirty, thoughtful, intriguing, fulfilled and fun!  Actually, a perfect first date.  I have a good feeling about him.  Let's see what happens....  It's been a few days and I haven't heard anything, but throughout the bad dates and funny stories, I remain hopeful.  I believe....

The Finger Licker

I was talking with my friend about being open to meeting someone outside of my tall, dark and handsome type.  She mentioned her friend Paul and I said I had seen him on Facebook and thought he was cute.  Jessica needed no more nudging and got to work.  Forks N Corks was coming up and we both had to go for work.  She got an extra ticket and invited Paul. 

One of my usual dates, Claudia, went with me and we quickly located the best wines and had seconds.  It was a gorgeous night out and we were enjoying catching up with friends and flirting our way into coupons for free dinners and extra ceviche and cupcake lollipops.  I had forgotten that the Italians were coming and newly single Giovanni was flirty enough for my friend and me!  Jessica found us and introduced me to Paul.  I didn’t think much of it because I was enjoying la dolce vida over pinot noir…

Soon enough it was time to find an after-hours venue and one of the italianas, Claudia, Jessica, Paul and a few others migrated to the Hyatt Downtown.  We sat outside and the drinks and cigars didn’t stop flowing.  Paul sat right next to me and we started talking… and talking, and talking, and talking.  Claudia and italiana excused themselves and Paul and I kept talking, ignoring all the conversations around us.  We talked about the latest U.N. vote on Palestine and the senatorial campaign he had worked on.   He had plenty of war stories that kept me entertained.  Our group disbanded and we went on to another watering hole, Hanny’s.  Again, we talked, and talked, and talked….

Soon it was 2 a.m. – so early for closing time – and we found my car so I could drive Paul to his car.  We said goodbye and he awkwardly tried to kiss me, but I politely gave him my cheek, and my number.  I told him about my plans to go out with my wolf pack the next night and go to the Merc.  I told him he was welcome to join us, inviting him two hours into our scheduled meeting, so we could dish beforehand.  I didn’t hear from him until I was driving to meet my friends and he said he was tired so could we get together Saturday at 8.  I said sure.

Saturday at 8 p.m. comes around and I’m not sure what to do.  I know we had plans but we didn’t have a place, so I texted him.  Paul called back immediately and said he was finishing his workout across town.  It seemed odd since we had set a time, but always trying to be open and keep my judgement in check, I said I would meet him at 9:30 p.m.  It was a rainy night, so I suggested the Rokerij.  That way we could curl up in front of the fire if it was a good date!

I arrived at 9:35 p.m. and didn’t see Paul.  I ordered a wine and drank it.  I still didn’t see Paul.  I was contemplating my exit, when disheveled Paul tapped me on the shoulder.  The Rokerij has two floors and I’d mentioned in our previous conversation that we should meet at the bar DOWNSTAIRS.  He had been waiting upstairs.

I ordered another pinot noir and Paul ordered something that started with an m, but I couldn’t make it out.  The bartender gave him a quizzical look and said he would try to find it.  I thought he had ordered an obscure drink I had not heard of and I was intrigued.  Then the bartender brought a  glass of milk.  Hmmm.

We had a nice conversation, discussing political scandals and national campaigns.  Paul had just survived a U.S. Senate campaign against a senior Senator whose campaign I had worked on.  The stories were entertaining and so was the wine.  We went to another bar to meet up with my friends, but he got lost, the bar closed and my friends departed.  I waited in front of the bar until he finally figured out how to get to the street of where I was so I went over to tell him the evening was over since nightlife ends at 2 a.m. in Phoenix.  Paul drove me to my car and that’s when he made his move.  The kiss was ok and we made plans to see each other the next day around noon to go to the Scottsdale Culinary Festival.

I was ready at noon and had not heard from Paul.  Around 12:30 p.m. I got frustrated so I texted him.  He answered out of breath because he was at the gym working out.  But we had plans…  So he said he could meet me in a few hours, but it was unusually cold outside and looked like rain later, so I was hesitant to push it back that far.  I went out with friends and he said he would do some work and then meet up with us.  He met up with us after 6 p.m., well into our Sunday Funday.  As soon as he walked in, I knew it was a mistake to have told him where we were.  Paul sat staring at me and then ordered edamame. 

You truly never know a person until you eat with them…. And Paul was not the person I had pegged him for.  After each bite of edamame, Paul proceeded to lick each finger on his hand after every bite, and then, sucked his fingers….  At first I wanted to throw a napkin at him, then I wanted to run…. Then, my friend sent me a text to tell me I was never allowed to bring this finger sucker out in public again!  And it went on and on, as no one wanted to share the edamame with him!

I said my goodbye and said I needed to leave quickly…  Unfortunately, Paul decided that he would, finger lick, finger suck, walk to my car…  “But it’s just outside the door, really…. I’m ok.”  Paul told me he was a gentleman and he had to walk me out.  That was just his excuse for getting in another kiss, which I couldn’t really reciprocate.  I said I was tired and left…. 

Paul called several times, about four, to which I texted back that I was busy.  Paul called Jessica, over and over again, to find out what had gone wrong.  Paul showed up when Jessica and I were out and called to tell me that the fact that he was hungover was the reason things didn’t go well the last time we had seen each other when he showed up unexpected.  I finally told Paul I wasn’t ready to date anyone, with my busy schedule and busy schedule.  Paul called again and I didn’t answer.  I wish Paul the best but finger lickers need not apply.

Cinderella

One evening my girlfriend and I put on our little black dresses and went to the opening of a restaurant at a swanky new resort called the Montelucia.  It was one of those Spring nights when the weather is magical and you can feel the breeze and smell the oranges.  The setting was like a Moroccon fairy tale with sweeping Mediterranean villas and Tuscan scenery.  The crowd… was not.  Neither was the food, because there was none. 

My friend and I found a table and were happy just people watching  when a much older man who said he was 60-years old but looked more like 70-years old came over and bought us drinks.  He began telling me about his fiance.  I asked him, "the one that is on that guy's lap."  He said, "she just pulled out her booby for him."  My friend went to talk to a friend of her dad’s and I was left alone to continue listening to the older man talk about his fiance’s love of exposing herself to men, as though it was a little gift she gave them, and old man loved it.  I'm disgusted, but like a bad train wreck, curious. 

The 42-year old fiance comes over, dreamy eyed at her old man.  I say, "he says great things about you."  I don't mention the graphic descriptions of their intimate life.  The fiancé then calls over the photographer of a local glossy magazine and tells him she wants to take nudey pictures.  The photographer and the fiancé walk around the corner and thankfully I don’t see what the photogs lens captured.  Old man is proud.  He was literally beaming...

The conversation then turns to me "joining" them, so I say my goodbyes and join my friend and her dad's friends.  We all decide enough is enough with no food at the restaurant opening, so we go to another restaurant to actually eat.  My friend, her dad’s friend and his friend and I, wow that’s a mouthful to explain, finally eat.  I sit next to my friend’s dad’s friend’s friend.  I wasn't even trying, just nodding and dying to be done to go home, when the second older man of the night tells me that he is a born again Christian and tells me I am fascinating and he wants me to start being his plus one for events.  He says he's “so fired up” about meeting me, “in God's presence,” that he can't sleep.  I say it's a school night, it's midnight, and like Cinderella, I must run, RUN, to my car and go home.  Thankfully it didn't turn into a pumpkin!

The Food Texter

I’ve never been too into sports but decided it would be a good idea to have some knowledge and go to sports bars, where the ratio of men to women is a lot better than a night at the W.  I decided supporting la raza would be an easy entrée, so I became a fanatica of the World Cup.  My friend Federico thought it would be a good way to meet my girlfriends, so he volunteered to meet me at Bomberos, a wonderful South American wine bar, to watch the games live.  How fabulous to have a mimosa and watch Mexico and el chicharito score goooooool after gol, even if it was at 7 a.m…  And soccer players have amazing bodies!   

Before work one morning I went to a spot closer to work, an English pub called the George and Dragon.  I got there before Federico and recognized another friend at the bar.  It was early and I hadn’t had enough coffee, so I went to the bar and threw my purse down next to him and in a sassy tone asked,  "beer before 7 a.m.?”  When he turned to look over at me my heart stopped!  It wasn’t my friend, but a stranger….  Not one to judge a nice drink before breakfast, I was mortified.   I politely excused myself and assured this new, handsome, man that I was not judging him and I really did think he was a friend!  Thankfully, Federico arrived and I shared my embarrassment to him.  He told me I missed my golden opportunity to hit on this handsome man.  “Before coffee?,” I asked.    I had never flirted at that hour of the morning.    Federico assured me there was nothing sexier than a girl asking a guy out, but I just couldn’t do it.  Mexico won and I raced back to work to make my meeting.

The next week, Mexico played again on a Sunday.  After watching the game at Bomberos, we decided to go to the Vig for Sunday Funday.  I was at the bar when I saw him walk in!  The guy from the George and Dragon had to have walked back in for a reason.  It was fate.  Federico was with me and told me I had to take my opportunity because second chances don’t happen often.  I put my YSL lip gloss on and walked to the end of the bar.  I went up to the mysterious caramel colored man and said, “still drinking beer before 8 a.m.?”  His face lit up and we started chatting.  He told me he had shared that story with his buddies and was glad to see me again.  I told him it must be fate.  Roberto gave me his number.  Walking up to a guy was tough enough, but I wasn’t about to make the first call.  I told Roberto he would have to call me and gave him my number and we said goodbye. 

Moments later, while I was waiting for my car outside, Roberto texted me that he would like to have dinner that week.  We made plans and he was called away and had to re-schedule.  What could be so important that you have to reschedule a first date?  With me!  So we texted back and forth trying to set another date.  In the meantime, I had a girlfriend’s weekend in Las Vegas and told Roberto that the weekend would not work because I would be partying like a rock star in Sin City.  After lunch with a friend, I got a text from Roberto, so I opened it to show my friend.  It was a picture.  I was intrigued.  I opened it to see a picture of a barbecue with grilled meat.  Interesting…..  but  why? 

When I got back from Vegas, after a delay at the airport which meant I got to watch Spain vs. Germany at an airport bar, I got another text picture from Roberto…. I couldn’t quite make it out, but it looked like a cracked egg, on a sushi plate?  With no explanation, I could only wonder.  But then I wondered why the hell he was sending me these pictures.  Was I missing something? 

Ever mindful that I am “too picky,” I decided to respond to the food texter, but was too freaked out to meet him alone.  My girlfriends were intrigued, so I invited him to a happy hour.  We met at Modern Steak and had a few cocktails before food texter arrived.  He was handsome, but he kept checking his phone.  I tried to talk to him, but wasn’t sure what to say.  How was the egg/sushi?  Did your meat turn out ok?  My girlfriends had had enough of happy hour and wanted to switch venues.  I didn’t want to bring the texter with us, so we said we were tired and had to go.  We were practically sprinting out the door…  I never thought I would hear from him again, but by the time we went to the next bar he had texted me to say he had a wonderful evening….  I didn’t reply and never received another picture of a food.   

Online dating????

After a failed long-term relationship, a broken engagement and another certain declaration of “I’ve finally found the one!” who, surprise, turned out not to be the one, I was persuaded to dive into the world of online dating by my happily coupled girlfriends.  A handful of examples of real success stories convinced me that I had nothing to lose.  I knew my wonderful non-single girlfriends only desired my happiness… That and a sadistic curiosity to see – from a distance - just what it would be like to cyber date.

I joined the popular site that assures you matches based on compatibility.  The site that preys on the lonely by offering discounts on that chocolate, candy heart, greeting card, marketers dream holiday.  Sheer evil…   

I started my foray by answering a lot of questions and putting up a profile.  I had not paid for a membership yet so I couldn’t see anyone’s pictures and no one could see mine.  I went on every few days and looked at the matches that requested communication.  My co-workers told me I was being too picky and critical just because someone spelled “there” wrong.  Note to self, trust your instinct on that one.  I opened a few and saved them for when I was ready to pay the fee and give it a real try.  I opted for a three month subscription and was now ready to see pictures, and have others see mine.

I went back to one of the more interesting profiles from a man in Scottsdale who liked to travel the world, like me, and read literature.  He also wanted children, just like me.  Pictureless “match” liked to exercise and take care of himself and wanted a partner to join him on his journey, and he wanted to communicate with me!  I clicked on his profile and a picture of my 2^nd grade classmate came up.  I thought there must have been a mistake, and then I realized, the spelling bee champ was reaching out to me…  The class genius, who I went to school with from the time we were seven until we graduated from high school…  The one whose best friend happened to be dating my friend and the two of them were plotting re-introducing us after all those years.   I couldn't do it.

My best friend told me I had to give one of them a chance, so I opened up the site to show her my new matches.  I hadn’t seen the lovely gentleman who were not only matched through scientific chemistry, but then wanted to communicate and take it a step further.  I opened a profile and saw that my match was adventurous.  He had a Christmas tree covered in Star Wars figures... as a  profile picture…  There was a picture of him opening his blazer to show a Superman shirt underneath.  “I’m really being too picky?” I asked.  I scrolled to the next picture and saw my “match” dressed in his Storm Trooper costume.  I admit my girlfriends and I like to don colorful wigs when we’re together and go out, but would we put that as our profile picture when we’re trying to meet Mr. Right?   

I didn't renew my subscription.