"I just knew we'd hit it off"…… "And this is why I don't date Ladies I haven't met".
Her pictures were nice, she seemed beautiful, and her profile wasn't bad at all. We texted back and forth well too. I was feeling very good about meeting her. Excited. And that's why I made reservations at a nice restaurant near her home for our first face to face. I just knew it was meant to be. Or could be. Or might be. "I just knew we'd hit it off".
So I drive her way and made sure I was early so she doesn't have to wait for me. I don't want a woman waiting for me. It's unnerving. Women want to feel secure. I want that for them too. She arrives. I see her in the parking lot of the city square. Same time as me. It's a week night. Not many cars or people. I get out and make my way over to her and greet her. She's happy to see me but already I'm noticing things are not like I imagined. Or maybe hoped. Maybe I'm naive. I'm a nice guy. I greet her with a introduction and a hug. She's a bit insecure. Shy maybe. I warm her up and she starts talking. She wants to talk.She tells me she's had a bad day. Why? I ask. She tells me as we walk to the restaurant.
Her car insurance had lapsed is the short of it. She had been fighting with the Insurance company during the day. I listen. Things aren't going well. I've made a mistake but I can't back out now. That would be mean. Or would it? The Insurance story is just jibber jabber in my ear. I feel for her as any human being would but my stomach is the size of a acorn. This is not the chick I Imagined. She barely looks like her photos and nothing at all to what I had built up in my head. I know I've seriously F'd up before we reach the restaurant. It's my fault though. It won't happen again.
We sit down and order drinks, I will need plenty and a bible. Appetizers and dinner. I tell the waiter It's a work night, just bring it all out together we're in a hurry. I listen as she talks. I say um huh and wow and what not. I look at pictures on the wall a lot. The Insurance story on the way in was much better than anything she had to say during dinner and she said a lot. Three glasses of the red loosened her tongue. Not that she needed any help. It was mostly about her ex. She dumped him and was now in a really bad place financially. She made him sound like a great guy actually. I stared at pictures wishing I could get drunk. I'm too far from home. And I repeat um huh and huh and nod at appropriate times.
Even the longest prison sentence comes to a end and I did my time. I was Joyous. We exit and make our way to the square. I'm happy. I'm grinning. We get to her car. I say "Thank you for coming out to meet me" and give her a hug. No kiss. She knows. That's the hardest part. That's always the hardest part that makes you wish you were never on Match. I hate it more than anybody knows.
She gets in her car and closes her door. I wave. I'm free. I can leave finally. I get to mine. I open my door. The familiar smells greet me. They're happy like me that i'm there and will soon be moving once again. Moving towards home. One leg in. One leg out. I hear screeching tires and BOOM !!!!. I'm sick again. I know what has happened. I don't need to see. Stevie Wonder can see. There was two people on the square that night and the third just slammed into her.
I'll tell you the rest of the story in a message, or in person, but never over our first dinner.