What do you do when a guy who sounds right out of a Harlequin Romance wants to come over, have dinner, and then get wild and crazy?
If you're me, you cancel the date two hours out.
THE BACKSTORY
I haven't been having time of my life lately. I'd been catching up online with a friend who was heartbroken. He'd visited from back east (without letting me know he was in town) as the guest of a dreamy. Robert F. Kennedy looking guy, who proceeded to ignore him all weekend and screw everyone else in the greater Santa Barbara to San Simeon region. Gosh, maybe he was a Kennedy. Granted, I only got one side of the story, but that's not where I'm headed. I had met 'Bobby' as we'll call him a few years ago myself, or at least I think I did. As it happens, I crossed paths with him, but sworn to secrecy by my corn-fed-friend, I couldn't do much but flirt, and get asked on a date.
BEYOND PERFECT...
Bobby, had the lean body of a surfer/tennis/croquet/badminton player, just enough body hair and those Kennedy teeth which flashed at me every few seconds. In less time than you could strip the kernels off a cob, we made plans to get together Saturday.
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
Saturday did not begin with all the planets aligning. My cat was ill and I raced over to the vet. I had some houseguest upheaval. I kind of hoped Bobby would call and reschedule, after all he was driving down from Paso Robles, which isn't exactly a trip across Los Angeles (though probably the same amount of time given traffic). When we spoke on the phone, he fed my imagination with better prose than I could ever hope to write.
"I helped out a friend at his ranch today. I have two bushels of oranges to make fresh juice, and also ripe avocados to make guacamole. And, he gave me some red wine from his vineyard. I got my hair cut and I'm looking to be down at your place by 6pm."
BE STILL MY FOOLISH HEART
This was the kind of dialogue I'd been waiting to hear for years!
So why the hell did I call him an hour later, and cancel what could have been a lovely (and filling) night?
SOMETHING'S OUT OF WHACK
I just couldn't risk being disappointed again. Even though I'm comfortable with 'one night only', enjoy 'now' for 'now' is all we h ave, I'd be second guessing and looking for the shoe to drop the entire time. And if he'd suggesting inviting his former fraternity brothers, Knights of Columbus or Shriners, I'd have dissolved into mush.
He texted me back, very disappointed, and that was that. I've spent the rest of the weekend as a shut in, which is very bad indeed.
If you're me, you cancel the date two hours out.
THE BACKSTORY
I haven't been having time of my life lately. I'd been catching up online with a friend who was heartbroken. He'd visited from back east (without letting me know he was in town) as the guest of a dreamy. Robert F. Kennedy looking guy, who proceeded to ignore him all weekend and screw everyone else in the greater Santa Barbara to San Simeon region. Gosh, maybe he was a Kennedy. Granted, I only got one side of the story, but that's not where I'm headed. I had met 'Bobby' as we'll call him a few years ago myself, or at least I think I did. As it happens, I crossed paths with him, but sworn to secrecy by my corn-fed-friend, I couldn't do much but flirt, and get asked on a date.
BEYOND PERFECT...
Bobby, had the lean body of a surfer/tennis/croquet/badminton player, just enough body hair and those Kennedy teeth which flashed at me every few seconds. In less time than you could strip the kernels off a cob, we made plans to get together Saturday.
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
Saturday did not begin with all the planets aligning. My cat was ill and I raced over to the vet. I had some houseguest upheaval. I kind of hoped Bobby would call and reschedule, after all he was driving down from Paso Robles, which isn't exactly a trip across Los Angeles (though probably the same amount of time given traffic). When we spoke on the phone, he fed my imagination with better prose than I could ever hope to write.
"I helped out a friend at his ranch today. I have two bushels of oranges to make fresh juice, and also ripe avocados to make guacamole. And, he gave me some red wine from his vineyard. I got my hair cut and I'm looking to be down at your place by 6pm."
BE STILL MY FOOLISH HEART
This was the kind of dialogue I'd been waiting to hear for years!
So why the hell did I call him an hour later, and cancel what could have been a lovely (and filling) night?
SOMETHING'S OUT OF WHACK
I just couldn't risk being disappointed again. Even though I'm comfortable with 'one night only', enjoy 'now' for 'now' is all we h ave, I'd be second guessing and looking for the shoe to drop the entire time. And if he'd suggesting inviting his former fraternity brothers, Knights of Columbus or Shriners, I'd have dissolved into mush.
He texted me back, very disappointed, and that was that. I've spent the rest of the weekend as a shut in, which is very bad indeed.
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