Put your feet in the stirrups, please

Some friends may recall this dating story from a year or so ago, but I thought it would be fun to record it for posterity. It involves a first date, drinks and an episiotomy. Thankfully, only the date and the drinks are mine.

I met this gentleman online in one of the dating sites, and after a bit of correspondence and chat via telephone, we decided to meet for a drink after work. I arrive, my usual, bubbly self, ready to smile and chat and see if any chemistry is there. Now, those who have dating off the websites know that this is a hit-or-miss proposition, as all dating tends to be. But my wonderful friend T and I have a “hey, it’s just coffee attitude.” Worst case, it’s an hour out of your day and you get a cocktail or coffee in the mix.

The gentleman and I actually meet in the parking lot, having recognized each other from pictures that were swapped. He looks a tad older than I expected, but I’m there and game. [Aside: I’m learning in the mid-40s group, you have either aged fairly well or you look really old. I think I’m looking good for my age even with a few new wrinkles, grey hair and experience on my face and body. Some of the men….whew!]

We sit down and order a cold drink. As you recall I like to chat and to tell, and listen to, stories. We exchange information about the usual; how dating is going, how was the workday, families, etc. He’s doing OK, but I do find out that this is his FIRST DATE since his divorce. I can accept that…everyone has to have a first date. Then, the story started.

It seems that he has decided that his story tonight involves the birth of his son and his then-wife’s labor. He is off to a roaring start, and I, frankly, can’t get a word in edgewise. He rolls on through going to the hospital, talking to the doctors, and then he gets to the nitty-gritty. He actually mentions the words “wife,” “stirrups,” and “episiotomy” on a FIRST DATE! Wow, thanks for the visual as I’m working on a drink and contemplating ordering a little appetizer. This easily goes on for about 40 minutes. No kidding.

Gentlemen everywhere, this isn’t a position that ANY woman feels comfortable in. We don’t like being in the stirrups for any reason, even the birth of a long-awaited baby. Not. Good. Date. Conversation.

I’m thinking perhaps I should do a “Comments Card” at the end of some dates. I think some guys are clueless and they just need a little help. Could I be a “Dating Coach” for men out there? (Reference the movie “Hitch” with that hottie Will Smith.)

Needless to say, that was the only date with this man. And I move forward….

Do you know?

Since I've decided to be more active about finding someone to share my life with, I've been asking almost everyone I know if they have anyone for me. [theory: you spend lots of time looking for the perfect job, awesome shoes or picking out yogurt. The least you can do it devote time to looking for a quality partner.]

I usually just say: someone who is around 45, nice, non-smoking. But I think I need to work on making my choice really the best. And that means looking a real traits, qualities and virtues that are important to me. So in the next day or so, I'm going to work on a really good list. More to come......

Bar none

Out for a drink with friend K after work. I'm not a "bar" girl by any stretch, but I feel like I need to get out and about. Where to go is the question..... I'm going to bring K up to speed on lots of things, and we can trade secrets. Even though she's married, I still think she had good advice for us dating girls. Cheers!

Cereal, paper towels and one date, please

My most-hated chore of all time is going to the grocery store. I invariably end up forgetting something I really need (Tide!), buy stuff that isn’t really food, and feel like I waste both time and money in one fell swoop.

Now, one of the theories of dating is to look for the “fate-date.” That’s meeting someone at random, striking up a conversation, exchanging numbers. Has never happened to me since I’ve been dating recently and I can’t remember if it ever happened to me when I was single in my 20s.

So when I was at the grocery store last night, I thought, “Hey, what an opportunity to make this more fun and practice my “fate-date” flirting.” I looked around as I started in the produce section. Older ladies, couples, young college people. No one in my category. I turned down the main back aisle, keeping my eye on the list and my eye out for guys. Soon I saw someone who at least looked around my age bracket and was a male. Then things started getting dicey.

Since I live in the city, there are lots of different people that I run into. Some tall, some short. Some married, some not. Some straight, some gay. And usually I can discern which is which. But all of the sudden at the grocery store my radar is failing me. I feel like I’ve dropped into a world where not only am I going to angst over this Soft Scrub to buy (there are about 14 versions!), but I can no longer decide who I should flirt with. Arrgghh.

After the cereal aisle, I make the decision. Tonight is not the night for me. Get the goods, get home. So I trundle up to check-out #5 and there, in front of me is a male species. I decide to work on my flirting techniques anyway. If he’s gay, it will give him a chuckle. And if he’s straight, it’ll give me some practice.

Me: From the looks of your groceries, I should come and eat dinner at your house.
Him: This isn’t just for dinner, it’s for the whole week.
Me: Looks like you’ll be going through a lot of paper products this week too.
Him: Can’t have too much paper.

Thunk. My flirting wasn’t much, but it was a start. Dude, give me a little bit here. I’m trying to flirt with you. Please help me. OK, maybe it wasn’t the wittiest repartee, but you could have at least smiled.

Next week, maybe the video store…..

The torch

The torch I've been holding for someone may be slightly fading. It's actually hard work to carry something that heavy around.

A date and a .38

Looking back, it was a strange date. I got in the car and there was a handgun there. Now, if you know me, I'm super-anti-gun. I don't believe in them in any case. My family doesn't believe in them. My siblings wouldn't give their boy children even toy guns to play with. So, you can imagine my surprise.

This man was legally carrying, so don't get any ideas. He did work for the Feds, in a roundabout sort of way. And serious people weren't happy with him. But still, could you put the gun away when you come to pick up your date? And throwing it (really!) into the back seat doesn't count. Well, I'm worried, but he assures me that he knows how to use it and has just been practicing. Goody.

My angst increased when we went to park the car at the shopping area we were visiting. I live in the city, so even though we are in a "nice area," a block or two away perhaps, shall we say, wasn't as charming. I imagine the Eurocar being broken into (bad enough since it was a really nice car) and the gun being taken. An evening with the police. Lovely thought.

As usual, my creative juices run away with ideas, but in the end nothing like that happened. It was a nice date, with art galleries mixed with a movie, topped with a fine dinner. I am no longer dating this man, but that's for another day. And so it goes.....

Goodbye, friend

As I was filing papers tonight, I came across the paperwork for my beloved cat. I had to put him to sleep last week. He was a real sweetie and some nights, especially right after my husband left, was my only friend. Talk about unconditional love.

Coffee talk. Or not.

Last weekend I had a blind coffee date. Set up by someone I know who knows someone who knows someone. Whatever. I believe that at this time, it's a numbers game. Dating now at 45 is not like dating at 25. There's not gangs of people out there looking for a partner. Or maybe there are, and I'm just not in one of them. I'm not a "bar girl." So that's out. And while I have enjoyed online dating (more on that later), I still am up for the old set-up.

This man was nice. Really. And not bad to look at. But I'm not sure how long he has been dating since his divorce. He invited me to meet at a local coffee shop. Cool. One hour, you're in, you're out. We get there, introduce ourselves and sit down. Now, you would think that he would offer to get me a coffee. I'm not a greedy girl, mind you. But dude, you asked me to meet at a coffee shop!

We get to talking and things are going, well, medium. For those who know me, I like to chat. Talk. Visit. I also like a conversation. A discussion. A give and take of ideas and discussions. And this poor guy looked like a deer in headlights. So I hold up my end and his end of the conversation. And frankly, that gets a little tiring. Where are the guys who have something to say? Current events? City politics? Movies? Come on, people!

At the end (luckily I had an appointment at my neighborhood salon to get to), he thanked me for a great conversation and says, "I usually can't string two sentences together." Oh, well. Nice guy. Hope he finds someone that's right for him. No big deal. Hour out of my life. And I move forward.....

Drinks with Liz

Good evening and welcome to my blog. It's a light-hearted look at dating at 45. Thanks to the cool, beautiful Liz H. for helping me set this up.

So, about me: I'm a 45 yr old woman working to navigate to dating scene in the year 2006. And what stories I have to tell.