Yes, you read the title correctly. I recently went on my first date in three years … not two … not four … three freakin’ years! I met him through a friend in the apartment complex where we live. I am thirty-nine years old, divorced with two children, and as you can see from my photo, not exactly an ugly person. Hell, I’m not even that picky of a person! I just simply had not been asked out on a date for three years!
So, this guy, let’s call him Alan … maybe because that is his real name, maybe not … asked me if I would like to go to his apartment and he would cook a nice dinner for us. He was cute, he had a job, he was funny, and … oh, did I mention that I had not been on a date in three years?
So I arrived at the appointed time, bearing a bottle of chilled white wine, which we promptly opened and proceeded to relax and talk and get to know each other better. He had prepared some kind of chicken and pasta dish, which was actually pretty good. So we’re finishing off the wine, full from dinner, smiling and laughing, getting along great … when it happened. The kiss. Remember how I hadn’t had a date in three years? Well, that includes kisses and everything that goes along with it.
I’m melting into his arms … I mean, three years or not, this guy was a good kisser. Things start moving along pretty fast (for me) so I just had to stop and tell him the deal. I wasn’t ready for what he was looking for. I mean, I was ready … but I wasn’t ready, ready. I didn’t want to jump into bed with the first guy I’ve met that I actually like enough to agree to eat a meal with him that he prepared in his apartment with candles casting shadows on the walls while we drink the wine I brought. Well, he seemed to understand. Kind of.
Okay, let me tell you, that man tried everything he could think of to get me into his bed, except forcing me … thank the Buddy up Above. After wrestling around on the couch for a while, I realized things have not changed since I last dated. Men want sex. I used to want sex—all the time. Now I want more. Needless to say, he didn’t call for another “date” … it’s too bad. If he had only waited for a couple of more dates, who knows what could have happened?
