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I smile at that. “Okay. So, gym membership. I can definitely look into that. And as much as it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, I’m going to continue looking into the online dating angle, but I think we need to try a different website. Maybe we can find one with more men actually looking for a committed relationship. I think that’s my problem thus far. We’re swimming in a pool of eligible men who have zero desire to commit. We need a change of venue.” I stand and walk to my board. It’s time to draw up a new plan of attack.
eight
Not Exactly Cinderella
Dear Readers,
Well, I can say with absolute certainty that modern dating kind of sucks. Meg Ryan and Reese Witherspoon never prepared us for this. I’m not expecting a balcony serenade here, people, but can’t a girl get a little romance?! Between men who want a dainty little kept woman to men whose only interest in me lies in getting in my pants, I’m losing hope for my own happy ending every day. But I’m not ready to give up just yet. I’m challenging myself and my single readers to pick up a new hobby this month. Try something new. Learn a new skill. Something that takes us outside of our comfort zone and could potentially put us on the right path. I don’t care if it’s taking up knitting, joining a book club, taking a self-defense class, just put yourself out there and try something new!
Are you with me? Leave your stories in the comments!
Stay tuned!
I’m not sure if Jason is actually a decent guy, or if my standards have just dropped so dramatically low over the last few dates that I’m willing to overlook his flaws as I had with Adam. It’s been another month of bad dates; winter has faded into early spring, and I am still no closer to my objective.
Millie helped me set up another dating profile on a more modest site. It seemed promising with no inappropriate pictures, and men who are actually looking for more than one night. But so far, it’s been all strike-outs. Jasper was a couple years younger than me, but he ticked off enough of my boxes that I agreed to a date. We met for dinner at a local Italian eatery and for a brief moment, I was hopeful. But he was a momma’s boy. Which I initially found endearing, because how a man treats his mother really says something about how he will treat his wife, but when he whipped out his phone to call his mother and narrate our date between courses, I had to draw the line. And by drawing the line, I mean run away. He made a few attempts to follow up, seemingly confused as to my sudden departure, but I finally managed to convince him we weren’t meant to be. Plus, by that point his mom was mad at me, so there would have been no salvaging anything.
Brody was good-looking, but rather full of himself. As a matter of fact, during the entire afternoon, I don’t think I had the time to say more than two or three sentences about myself. He didn’t really seem all that interested in anything I had to say. When he asked me to dinner, I hadn’t realized that we would catch it ourselves. No, literally. He took us to a beautiful lake, but instead of pulling out a romantic picnic basket with a charcuterie board and a smooth red wine, he handed me a fishing pole and told me I’d best get to it if I wanted to eat before dusk.
Before I could get over the shock of being thrust into an episode of Survivor, Brody began to regale me with tales of his talents. He was a jack of all trades, and a self-confessed master of them all too. He was an expert with a good deal of weaponry, with a newfound interest in blacksmithing. When probed, he admitted he had no experience with any weapon-making, but he felt confident he could manage it based on a television show he had watched. I nodded my head in all the right places and blinked rapidly each time my eyes glazed over. I made a token effort to fish, but with zero prior experience in this department and a less than attentive teacher, I couldn’t figure out how to do any more than get my line snagged on some low-hanging branches.
Somewhere between his heated statements on his political stance and experience, I interjected with my standard first-date question. I thought it might take him a while to come up with a hidden talent when he felt like his talents were so very obvious for the world to see. But the question didn’t trip him up at all. Without pause, he said, “I’ve been told I’m actually quite skilled in the bedroom. If you know what I mean.” Brody followed it up with a flash of his pearly-white teeth and an exaggerated wink.
I didn’t get a chance to respond because at that moment, he got a tug on his line and turned his attention to reeling the fish in. When he caught the poor creature and brought the flipping, struggling slimy thing up to an inch from my face with a huge smile on his own and said, “just gotta get him cleaned up and it’ll be time to throw him on the fire,” I nope’d myself all the way out of there. I never heard from him again. I’m not even sure he noticed me leaving.
In contrast, Scott was very suave and debonair. We met for drinks and seemed to hit it off really well. He managed to charm me all the way back to his apartment. Unfortunately, it seemed that he had no idea what to do with me once he got me there. After the sloppiest, wettest make-out session in history, I pulled back, an excuse to leave on the tip of my tongue, when I felt his large hand grab my hoo-ha. No foreplay, not even a token boob graze, he just went straight for the pot of gold. Squeezing, Scott made the entire awkward situation that much worse when he opened his mouth. “God, I want you so badly, Charley. I need you. Tell me,” He stared endearingly into my eyes, making sure I could see the strength of his desire as he continued, “will you allow me to make love to you, Charley?” After declining his oh-so-tempting offer, I fled so quickly I’d forgotten my shoes. I didn’t go back for them, either. Unfortunately, they were collateral damage in this war. I blocked his number and crossed his name off the prospect section of my board.
So, after those charming dates, Jason really seems promising. He’s interested in me as a person. He listened to me discuss my career and hobbies. He even asked questions in all the right places, demonstrating excellent listening skills. Jason isn’t the best looking of my dates, in fact he’s rather plain-looking with short, light brown hair, and nondescript eyes, but his attentive personality more than makes up for it. Jason’s a dentist, and he has a golden retriever named Bo. He checks off enough of my boxes that he had my heart fluttering as he walks me to my door at the end of our date.
He’s just a few inches taller than me, and he stands a respectable distance from me, giving me the power in the moment to decide how our evening will end. Making a split-second decision, I say, “Would you like to come in for a drink?” My voice is squeakier than I would like, my awkwardness kicking in, but Jason doesn’t seem to notice.
“Absolutely.” He smiles, his perfect teeth a tribute to his profession. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and smile back at him before turning to let him into my apartment.
Brushing off idle thoughts about whether or not Mr. Dentist here can tell that I’m not the world’s greatest flosser, I say, “Come on in.” Cecil greets us at the door, jumping up on Jason, but before I can apologize and get Cecil down, Jason is already petting and talking to him.
“This handsome fella must be Cecil.” I smile and nod and Cecil wiggles his butt in an attempt to climb even further up his new friend.
I giggle at the adorable sight before me and my heart flutters just a little. Is there anything sweeter than a man who loves dogs? I think not. Before Cecil hijacks my date, I pull him off and redirect him to his doggy bed in the corner, then turn back to my guest. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll see what drinks I can find.” Gesturing at my suede couch, I make my way to the adjoining kitchen asking, “I think I have a bottle of red and maybe some white. Which would you prefer?”
Jason walks around the open concept living room, noting my eclectic, colorful decorations, before taking a seat and looking at me. I take a moment to send up a silent prayer of thanks that I remembered to move my love board into the spare bedroom just in case. “Red is fine.” He smiles, and that smile makes him look almost handsome. My stomach flutters again. He really does have a nice smile. The laugh lines in the corners of his eyes suggest he’s the kind of person that smiles a lot. I like that. “So, you’re a romance blogger, you said?” Now, I’m the one smiling. I can’t even begin to describe how refreshing it is that he listened to me. After the nightmare-inducing dates I’ve endured the last couple of months, Jason is a breath of fresh air. “Yes!” My excitement dims a bit as I remember my other dates' varied reactions to my profession. My voice is softer when I ask, “Why? Does that intimidate you?”
Jason’s eyes go wide as he shakes his head. “No, not at all. It just tells me a lot about you.”
“Really? Like what?” Grabbing both glasses, I take my seat next to him and hand Jason his.
“Thank you.” Jason takes a generous sip of the burgundy beverage before looking deeply into my eyes. This close I can see his eyes are a soft hazel, specks of blue and green dotted throughout. I never realized how sexy eye contact was until this exact moment. He isn’t focused on his phone or his surroundings. One hundred percent of this man’s attention is on me. It’s both flattering and nerve-wracking to be the recipient of such concentration. “It tells me a couple things. First, that you believe in love.” He smiles at my vehement nod. “And that you’re very creative. Very good with words.” He scoots closer. I nervously gulp down my wine before my shaky hands can spill it all over him. His warm thigh is pushed up against mine now and the temperature in the room seems to have shot up. Jason finishes his wine as well, grabbing both of our glasses and placing them on the table before turning his attention back to me. His hand caresses the side of my face, and he looks directly into my eyes, leaning forward until his lips line up with my own, but don’t touch. “I’d very much like to kiss you now, Charley. Would that be alright?” His mouth is so close that I feel his warm, minty breath on mine, but he doesn’t come any closer. He waits there, ever so patiently, for me to decide what I want.
I don’t leave him waiting long. I lurch forward. But I move too quickly. My face bumps his rather forcefully, but I don’t allow myself to be embarrassed by it. Our lips meet, and I take a moment to send up another silent prayer that Jason’s salivary glands aren’t overachievers like Scott’s had been. They aren’t. His kiss is perfect. Very pleasant. I melt into him as he deepens the kiss. I can feel my heart beating just a little bit faster as I let myself think that maybe, just maybe, Jason might be who I’ve been looking for. My hands grab his shoulders, as I relax into his soft, sweet kiss.
Jason ends the kiss, pulling back abruptly. I’m not ready. My eyes fly open, and I fall forward before I can catch myself. It’s happening almost in slow motion, but I can’t get my lust addled brain to catch up with what’s going on around me before I land, unceremoniously, directly in his lap.
“Oh, fuck!” His outburst startles me, but I can’t figure out why he’s suddenly screaming. His face is turning a sickly purple shade. Then I see it. Or rather, I feel it. And by ‘it’, I mean his slightly erect member which is currently being crushed beneath my elbow.
“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” My ears burn with shame as I realize what I’ve done, but I quickly scramble off him. He doesn’t speak, but at least he finally stops squealing. Rushing to my freezer, I pull out the first thing I can find, a frozen bag of peas, and rush back to him. Gingerly placing them on his thigh, I step back a safe distance and stand uncertainly, waiting to see if he is okay. I would have just handed them to him, but both hands are clutching his manhood as if it might run away if left unsupervised. His eyes are slammed shut still, but his groans lower in volume as he maneuvers the frozen vegetables into place. My cheeks feel as if they’re on fire now. Why am I such a klutz? I wring my hands together nervously, unsure what to do or say to remedy this situation.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but really is only a handful of minutes, Jason offers me a shaky, watery smile and my slightly defrosted bag of peas and says, “It’s okay. Really it is. I should get going, though.” He stands in a hunched over position with his legs spread wider than is probably strictly necessary and hobbles toward my door. “I had a great time, Charley.” And then he’s gone before I can even respond. Cecil whines from the corner, his sad puppy eyes seeming to ask why I chased his new buddy off.
Well, that went well.
