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“By insulting me? By basically making fun of all women who work?”
“Well, no, but I mean, women don’t really, you know, need to be in the workplace. Their kids need them at home.”
I stand, unable to hold back any longer. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Am I on some sort of hidden camera show? What is happening? More importantly, what fucking year is it? I tried to be at least a little polite when I shot down Greg and said that this wouldn’t work, but he’s doubling down instead of backing off.
“Greg, I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I think you’re forgetting the fact that not everyone wants kids, can have kids, or is interested in kids.”
He looks shocked.
Seriously, has he never considered the other side?
Has he never thought that not everyone wants a child to keep them busy? Not everyone wants a kid to fulfill them? What about those of us who love our jobs? I’m not opposed to babies personally, but they also aren’t the be-all, end-all for me. I don’t even know if I want a mate, let alone kids. It feels like a lot of pressure for a first meeting. Those are decisions I want to make later, once I’ve found someone I love. I don’t want my first-time meeting someone to be this lifestyle planning event where we map out the next fifty years. Seriously, how boring is that?
Life should be a surprise.
It should be an adventure.
It should be the kind of experience that keeps you guessing.
If, and when, I get a mate, I don’t want us to have our entire lives mapped out from the get-go. I want us to have some fun enjoying ourselves. I want things to be spontaneous and comfortable. Perhaps most importantly, I want someone who supports me and the things that are important to me, just as I’ll support him.
Greg just wants someone to have his babies.
That’s not me.
Not right now, anyway.
“I just think a woman should consider the importance of having offspring,” he keeps talking. “I mean, who is going to take care of you when you’re old?”
“Greg, it was nice to meet you,” I lie. “Have a good night, and best of luck.”
He keeps talking, but I’m done. I’m totally and completely over this dude, so I just leave. A year ago, I never would have had the guts to just walk away, but I’m older now, and I’m not interested in wasting my time with someone like him. Not when I have so many other things to deal with. Not when I’m trying to actually find a date. I need to be serious right now. Greg? He’s not serious. He’s a total clown. Besides, the idea of being with someone who only sees me as a baby factory is totally offensive to me.
I might want kids someday, but I might not.
I don’t think the decision I make really determines my value or my worth as a person.
He does, though, so it’s without regret that I turn and walk across the crowded room. I head back to the counter and the bartender is laughing. She shakes her head as I approach, but she smiles at me sympathetically as I slide onto a barstool and lean on the counter. I drop my chin in my hands and just look at her like I can’t believe what just happened.
“Looks like that went absolutely horribly,” she says. “Drink?”
“Please.”
“Same thing?”
“Yep.”
I’m a bit single-minded when it comes to my drinks. I’m a simple girl. No, there’s nothing wrong with trying new things, but in my world, a rum-and-Coke solves all of my problems.
When the bartender turns to make the drink, I start to wonder if I made the wrong choice by coming here. It certainly wasn’t my finest decision, but a blind-date-matchup night seemed like a good idea. Besides, there are lots of attractive men and women here. Surely, I can find someone to bring as a date to Alastair’s wedding. I’m not ugly. I’m not too weird. I’m not boring. Finding a date shouldn’t be hard for me.
A tall, curvy blonde woman looks by and winks as she does. Maybe I should talk to her. She’s very pretty, and I’m absolutely in love with both her hair and her dress, but she keeps walking past me to the man a few stools down.
“Is this seat taken?” She asks, and he hurries to make room for her. Her attention turns completely to him, and I look away.
So much for that.
With a sigh, I accept the drink from the bartender.
