Monday Morning Quarterbacking

Ah, Monday morning. I really feel like its Karmic payback for my wild and crazy youth. I used to think that a regular 3-day weekend would be great, but then I realized that Tuesday would just become my Monday. Just no escaping it until I retire. Sigh...

News - Ted Kennedy died last week. So sad; it just seems that he was the last of his kind. The type of politician that didn't compromise his sense of vision (and he still got elected!). He had friends in the Senate on both sides, which seems to wierd people out. I think that's 'cause everyone now-a-days wants to put people in little boxes. Your a liberal...your a conservative, etc. Then, the "they" can't believe that you can actually be friends with someone and not agree with their politics.

Well, enough of that. My two dates (sounds like the title of a bad chick-flick). Friday was lunch with Ed. This was a funny story. Two weeks ago, I was waiting for a lunch date with a Match.com guy (WP). I was a little early, so I was standing outside of the Daltons bookstore and checking out the books. This guy walks up to me and starts flirting. Telling me I should be looking at travel books and such. I turn around, expecting WP, but see this other guy (Ed). He tells me he's safe and there is a cop right over there for my protection. I tell him I'm not worried 'cause I can scream really loud (Ha!). We chit-chat about lunch and what he should eat. He eventually asks for my number, so I give him my cell (where's the harm - I hope!). At that point WP (my original lunch date) shows up and off we go. Well, Ed and I go out to lunch ourselves (to the very same place I take all of my 1st dates. It's getting kind of embarrassing 'cause the entire staff has probably figured out what I'm doing. Note to self: find another 1st date spot!). Lunch is nice. I don't feel any chemistry. He's very intense. Says he's writing a book about race and cops. Anyway, date ends with a shake and a hug and a promise to get together again. I wouldn't mind lunch again, but I dont' see this going any further.

Date number two is LJ. LJ is a Match.com match. He contacted me because he is outside of my age range (he's 55 and my range is 45-53). He was very nice by e-mail and then by phone. We had some nice chats. He has never been married, which is a concern (how many men are there versus women who have never married?). He's an attorney and was a prosecutor at one point, so we have a lot in common. He has a professional photo on his profile, which he said was done before he lost a lot of weight. Well, anyway, he had set up this very nice date where we were meeting at a local arboretum that has a live butterfly exhibit and then some dinner. Very nice ideas. Then, on Friday, he sends me this very nice letter, which he had obviously worked very hard on. A little over the top for before a 1st date, but nice. Anyway, Saturday comes and I fix myself up in my finest, but something for warm weather (it was hot, muggy and sunny). I finally arrive at the park and walk in. He is sitting down. As he stands, its all apparent right away - he's an old 55. In this day and time, 55 should be nothing. You can, and should be, vibrant. But LJ was just...old. His hair was very grey (unlike his picture) and he obviously had trouble walking (it looked like maybe he had arthritic knees). Lastly, he was very drawn, some from the weight loss, but still. Sigh... Anyway, into the exhibit we go. It was great! But, there wasn't much attempt at sticking together. It got annoying. He is sweating like a pig. In fact, he was really sweaty when I first rolled up.

Anyway, off to dinner we go. We are pretty early for dinner (4 PM) so I'd rather walk around. But, it was obvious that he wasn't interested in too much movement, so up to the restaurant we go. The place is completely empty, so I suggest we sit at the bar first. I order a mojito and he orders ginger ale (this after persuing the drink menu for quite some time). I ask why, and he launches into this alcoholism runs in the family and he gets really effected by alcohol. Wish he had said something up front so I could make the decision on whether to order a drink or not. Anyway, converstaion is suddenly very difficult. He is just not as chatty in person as he is on the phone. I, searching for something to say to fill the awkward silence, mention that he doesn't really look dressed for the activity of butterfly watching (he had on black pants, socks and work shoes). He puffs up like a biscuit and says that he just sweats and his whole family sweats, blah, blah, blah. A little over the top, n'cest pas? Well, I tell him, that is not what I meant. I really just meant that I thought he would wear something less formal for a walk with butterflies. Well, he says, these are khakis! Well there ya go, I mean, what was I thinking? Khakis! That answers everything! OK, do ya hear the sarcasm???

By this time, I just start my usual babble 'cause we just aren't having a real conversation. We decide to order appetizers and eat in the bar area (I'm just not feeling a full-fledge dinner at this point). He then tells me he just doesn't eat that much (uhm, aren't you the one that invited me to dinner?). Urgh!!! Well, we order 3 appetizers and then, of course, he proceeds to eat a lot. Whatever! I tell him, Oops, gotta go pick up DD. Then karma, that bitch, serves up a whole plateful. DD calls up and says can't you pick me up later? Your killin' me, little girl. I say nine and now I'm stuck, or so I think. I ask if he wants to go to the movies. He says, oh, I need to go visit some friends tonight (whew!). We part without any physical contact (which is okay with me since I don't want to touch sweat anymore).

Wow! Looking over this, I sound so bitchy. I'm really not. No, really! I guess I'm getting tired of this already. Its hard keeping a positive outlook when it just seems that people aren't being honest. I know, I know... I'm being naive. But still, I'm getting too old for this nonsense.

Well, like the lottery, ya gotta be in it to win it. So, I'll keep plugging along, hoping for the best.

Lata gata
(an ever hopeful) Miss A