Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

BAD DATE? OR GOOD DATE?
I alternated all night between seething anger and laughing out loud after my date with Mr. J. We are definitely not compatible, and initially I believed it to be one of the worst dates I’ve ever had. But in retrospect, I guess that’s what first dates are all about, finding out if you want to spend any more time with that person. So, overall, I guess it turned out to be a good first date, because it served its purpose.
I met him at the coffee shop on the mall, and within five minutes of him sitting down he was trying to hold my hand. I pulled it back and wrapped both hands around my cup of coffee. For a few minutes we had a good conversation—we both criticized organized religion and big pharma. But then he grabbed my hand and said “I like touching your hand.”
“I don’t like to be touched really. At least not by people I don’t know.” I pulled it back again. He blushed slightly, but then said I had beautiful hair. It’s true, I do have exceptionally good hair these days, but I didn’t want him to touch it. After our coffee we decided to head across the plaza to the Jazz bar and see what was playing there. I knew I should have ended the date there, but I was curious to check out the Jazz bar. Much like when I was in Mexico and wanted to see the dump. I knew I shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of me.
Once outside he immediately tried to put his arm around me as we walked. I politely escaped, and tucked my arm in his elbow, keeping him at arm’s length.
As soon as our drinks arrived, he put his hand on my knee and tried to rub my leg. I moved away and decided to put an end to it.
“I have to be honest. I’m not looking for any kind of physical relationship.” There, I’d said it.
“Really? Why not?” he asked, still trying to grope my knee.
“I’m just looking to make friends, find people to hang out with and see how it goes.”
He tried to argue the physical thing, and I finally just told him “We are not going to have sex.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I don’t have sex with people I don’t know.”
“Well how long does it take to get to know someone?”
“At least a year,” I said.
“F*&* that,” he said. “I’m not waiting a year.”
I couldn’t believe he said that out loud, but I took it in stride.
“I totally respect that. Then I guess I’ll see you on the train. Thanks for the beer and the coffee.”
I sat back to finish my drink and watch the people dance, but he began to argue with me.
“That’s ridiculous, why would you make someone wait a year? If I have to wait a year then you can’t have sex with anyone else.”
Whoa! He was totally out of control. I pulled something out of my daughter’s arsenal.
“Look. I don’t have any room in my man garden. I do, however, have room in my friend garden. If you can hang out with me as a person, with no chance of sex, that’s cool. But I’m not looking for a relationship.”
He went on to argue that I was a hypocrite, and tried to pull his Zen master analysis of me to try and convince me that I needed to have a physical relationship. I stood my ground, and said, “You may think me a hypocrite, and you are obviously narrow-minded, so it’s a good thing we had this date to figure out we really don’t have anything in common.
Still he argued, and I just hurried and finished my beer. He tried to hold my hand and put his arms around me as he walked me to the Sheraton, where I planned to catch a cab.
“You don’t want me to walk you home to your apartment?”
“No.”
Then came the final nail in the coffin. I had already told him there was no chance whatsoever that I was going to spend time alone with him, or any strange man, in their apartment. He balked about having to come downtown to meet me in the first place, and at this point I was ready to go home.
“So, about Friday night.” He said. “I have every channel of TV you could imagine, we could just cuddle and watch TV…”
TV, and cuddling…I stood in the parking lot and stammered and pointed, my head spun around and I’m pretty sure I shot lightning bolts out of my fingertips when I pointed at him.
“No, no no. TV is the devil, and I am not coming to your apartment!”
“Oh, I see. You just want to go out and about. If it’s not doing something exciting you don’t want to do it. I’m outta here.” He turned and walked away.
I caught a cab home, and was quite proud of myself for being so assertive. I was so darned assertive, the night could have played out like a bad episode of the Sex in the City.

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January 20, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

3 Comments »

  1. Congrats grasshopper. You have advanced to level 2. Your prince is entering the forest of good and evil in his hot pursuit to find you. While you wait you might as well date and help educate those who won’t be your mate.

    Comment by G-dog | January 20, 2012 | Reply

    • G-dog,

      Thanks for the words of encouragement and the rhyme!

      Comment by tabdeans | January 20, 2012 | Reply

    • G-dog, Just saw your previous posts. Do I know you?

      Comment by tabdeans | January 20, 2012 | Reply


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