There should never be snow on purple pumpkins
I’m going to spare you the bellyaching about how weird it is for it to snow in October in the New York City area (well, I’m kind of going to spare you). There’s been enough of that already (much of it from me). The important thing is that we not let the freak storm keep us from our appointed rounds. So, yes, I don’t have power, but I’m still dating.
I had set up the easy little Starbucks date for a Sunday morning before I realized the 5th horseman of the apocalypse… uh, I mean, this totally not unnatural snow storm… was going to turn 70-year-old trees into matchsticks and render much of northern New Jersey without power. (As an aside, for someone who doesn’t drink coffee, I sure do date a lot in Starbucks).
Unfortunately, weather intervened, power outages ensued, and I high-tailed it to my mom’s house. Sunday morning found me waking up in my mom’s bed, 1979 style, except my various kids, dogs and piles of stuff were scattered all over her house like Christmas morning wrapping paper. BUT! That doesn’t stop the dating. With the mission of checking out whether we had power back (we didn’t), I left the kids, the dogs and the stuff and headed home to spruce up for date # 19.
Although my mom’s is three and a half miles away, the normally 10 minute trip took three times as long. Snow was melting, and, as precipitation does, it was making drivers turn either into grandma or Evel Knievel. Besides the bad driving, big chunks of tree were making it into quite the obstacle course. Here’s what I learned, which I feel like I should have already known, but didn’t: trees lose their leaves in the winter for a really good reason. Leaves hold a lot of snow. Trees that don’t lose their leaves or aren’t shaped like pine trees (branches pointing down, not up) probably don’t make it through the winter. Therefore, it probably shouldn’t snow when I still haven’t packed my summer clothes away. Okay, okay, climate change rant over.
So! The block I usually take from the main drag in town to my home? Impassable. The block next to that? Police tape and live wires. When I finally zig zagged my way up the hill to get to the bottom of my block, trees on either side of my shady street had dumped big branches in the way. But, I am mountain woman, I will not be deterred. (Okay, I’m not mountain woman, I’m a really soft and woosy urban woman, but I’ve got rubber-soled shoes on). I go to the block behind mine, hoping to make it through in the small alley that connects the two, but, of course, there are about 10 branches down. I valiantly creep my car up, get out, remove a branch, get back in my car, creep up again, remove the next, etc., until I get to the TOP of my street, only to find the trees there are bowed all the way down to the ground, making a tree and ice curtain that looks pretty, but would probably not be good for the health of my paint job. Score 1 snow storm, 0 mountain woman. So it’s reverse all the way back out of the alley and down the narrow little side street and back around the block. This must be exactly how the Pilgrims did it.
Once I make it home, there is wet and slushy snow everywhere, and I realize I really should shovel. I’ve got just enough time if I hustle. However, it turns out that shoveling is not great date preparation. 20 minutes later, I am a sweaty, frizzy mess who is about to be late, so I brush my teeth quickly and abandon all thoughts of make up and hair curling in exchange for timeliness.
Here’s the other thing I learn: Starbucks can lose power too. It blows my mind to arrive and find the whole little plaza dark and sad, people shuffling by the front door, confused that the giant is sleeping, unsure of what to do next. I walk a couple of doors down to the 7-11, which is open. The Red Bulls are passably not warm. I plunk down the money and head back to the Starbucks to see if my date is as snow-hardy as I am.
He is. Unfortunately, he is also small, heavy and otherwise totally physically unappealing (it really does torment me that I’m this superficial, but I am). But, hey, he’s a sport, so I decide we’re going to have fun. We caravan it to the nearby diner, only to find that doesn’t have power either. Finally, he takes charge, macho style (not going to lie, that was kind of sexy), and says, “I know where we should go. Follow me.” He leads us to a diner that is not only open, but jam-packed, and where they serve 7 different kinds of Eggs Benedict. It’s nice to meet a guy who can figure out where to get you Eggs Benedict when the world is coming to an end in freak October storms.
We had a generally pleasant conversation, two souls hopeful enough to go out for love (and orange juice) in generally crappy weather. No, I don’t think he’s The One, but I was glad I braved the elements to meet him.
Catch up on the Dates:
Posts Most People Enjoy. Or think are crazy enough to share:
Dating in a Room Full of Nuts
Plenty of Fish Chats – I Think My Eyeballs Are Bleeding
The dates in order:
Date # 23 – Bitter Guy
Non-Date # 22 – The Heartbreak
Date # 20 – No Butts About It
Date # 19 – Extreme Snow Edition
Date # 18 – Vulnerability
Date # 17 – Playing the Numbers
Date # 16 – What He Said
Date # 15 – A Threesome
Date # 14 – Just What’s Your Angle Buddy?
Date # 13 – The Scariest of All
Date # 12 – Back-up Date is DTF. Am I?
Date # 11 – George, Mr. Perfectly-Nice, Not-For-Me
Dates # 3-10 – Speed Dating
Date # 2 – Little Johnny
Date # 1 – Bill a/k/a Angry Guy
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