Date # 13 – The Scariest of All

Friday I had one of the most terrifying types of first dates of all: a good one.

I was reminded of that Road Runner episode in which the Coyote, shrunken to a few inches in size, finally catches the full-sized Road Runner. He holds up a sign that reads, “Okay wise guys, you always wanted me to catch him. Now what do I do?”

Tim fell into my inbox in Plenty of Fish and we exchanged emails. Friday morning he wrote, “With the week you’ve had, it sounds like you could use a drink. How about I buy you one?” We made plans to meet that afternoon at happy hour.

While I got ready, I felt the benefits of the 51 First Dates Project as I fussed minimally over my appearance. It used to be that I’d primp an hour and a half before any date – every hair perfectly curled, face scrubbed, exfoliated, masked, moisturized, eyebrows plucked, make-up applied meticulously. Turns out, you can’t put in that level of effort with the kind of volume I’m doing. Plus, in the spirit of truth-in-advertising, maybe the poor guy should get a glimpse into what he’d be getting on a Sunday morning, not my packaged, pushed-up and plastered-over Friday night promotional copy.

So, I didn’t exactly go in my Sunday morning sweats, but I didn’t sweat it either.

I walked into the crowded bar and realized I had seen only one picture of him, and there was no way I could pick him out of a crowd. Luckily, he seemed to be able to pick me out, as I saw a flicker of recognition play on one face, then a smile spread over it as the tall stranger stood up and started walking towards me.

For the first time since I started this project I felt relief at the first glimpse of someone. And he looked happy with what he saw too.

Tim had accurately described himself as tall. That was good for 2 reasons: 1) he had told the truth (a rare and elusive quality in men where height is concerned), and 2) I really, really like a tall guy, someone I can look up at as we walk and chat, or right before we kiss. (Who knows why we find attractive the things we do – give me a pass on this, short guys. I’m sorry). He looked nice in his button-down shirt and slacks (I. Love. A. Man. In. A. Button. Down. Shirt!). He had a full head of salt and pepper hair, and his pretty blue eyes lit up when he smiled, which he did a lot.

There was only one obvious explanation: He must be an ax murderer.

He did nothing to reveal any Jeffrey Dahmer propensities during our one-hour getting-to-know-you chat, however. Getting past the pleasant physical first impression, he also seemed fun to talk to.  He talked just enough about his job to explain it but not so much as to glaze me over. He told me about his teenage kids and the great apartment he’s been living in since his divorce a year and a half ago. He asked questions about me and my life, laughed at my jokes, and looked more at my eyes than at my boobs.

As I saw that he was eminently normal, there was a flash of terror, yes. First, because I realized he had given me very little to blog about. (One amusing side-effect of this project is that I find myself almost wishing for weird things to happen). Second, because, like the Coyote, I’ve made so much of my life about The Search, I’m not sure if I’m ready to catch my very own building-sized Road Runner.  What happens after that?

If you’re wondering if I was asking myself if he was The One, well, then, welcome back, faithful reader. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I have been on a protracted decades-long search for that creature, more elusive than Big Foot sitting on a Northern white rhino eating truffles.

But here’s the thing, and where I feel this process is really serving me: I don’t know. During this date, I didn’t even go there in my mind. I am learning that it may just be there is no such thing, and that is okay. Maybe there are only people who come into your life and, then, the one (lower case) you decide to enter into that longer dance with, not perfect, not magical, but yours.

As I felt the warmth of Tim’s skin when he went in for a very proper, non-gropey goodbye hug and slightly lingering cheek kiss and he asked if he could see me again, my only thought was:

A second date might be nice.