Tabatha Deans

ONE DOWN, 11 TO GO…
I promised Jessica that I would go on at least 12 dates through Match.com. I went on my first date last night, and although it was awkward, it wasn’t painful. The gentleman I met was named Noah, and I knew from his profile that he wasn’t very tall, which is okay with me because I’m not very tall myself. But I wore my favorite boots, which have a little heel on them, which left me towering over my date by about 3 inches.
We got off to a rocky start because he was late. We were supposed to meet at Barnes and Noble on the mall around 7 p.m. I arrived early and watched for him, even though I wasn’t quite sure what he would look like in person. I saw a tall man rush into the bookstore, check the time on his phone, then look around like he was looking for someone. He was much taller than I thought my date would be, and I was pretty sure my date was Hispanic. (Actually he’s from Honduras). At 7:15, with no sign of my date, I began to wonder if maybe I’d gotten confused about which guy I was meeting. I strolled around the bookstore, putting myself in the line of sight of the tall guy I’d seen walk in, hoping if he was my date he would be looking for me. Nope. Not even a glance.
At 7:30 I figured I’d been stood up. I started walking home, a little disappointed but also a little relieved. Now I could go back to reading my book for the evening. I got about two blocks away and my phone rang—it was Noah. He was running late, he apologized profusely, and told me he would call after he parked and I could direct him to where I was. I stopped at the Mix bar, one of my favorite places because the bartenders are actually nice to me. Christa was tending the bar, and I told her my story about meeting a blind date. She agreed that if I had a horrible look on my face she would rescue me with a “your daughter just called, you have to go home right now,” speech.
Noah arrived and it was immediately obvious that he was more nervous than I was. He was nice looking, with well-groomed black hair and dark brown eyes. His teeth weren’t bad, they were just little, they reminded me of baby teeth. We chatted for about an hour and a half, but he was so nervous that I could tell it was hard for him to carry on the conversation. He did lose all reserve when he was talking about his 4-year-old son, which I thought was cute. He runs his own business buying and selling trucks to businesses, and his knuckles were scraped from twisting a wrench. We didn’t get into any deep conversations, he’s only been divorced for one year, after 20 years of marriage, and I got the feeling he was still crushed by the divorce. We parted with a brief hug and handshake. Although I didn’t have the visions of a future together and the white picket fence, I did get that he was a good-hearted person, and agreed that if he wanted to go out again and do something (like Cinco DeMayo) he could give me a call.
I have to admit, that since I’ve been putting an effort into seeking companionship, I must have an aura of confidence and hope about me, because I’ve been approached several times by men with compliments in the past week. Two guys on the shuttle bus told me I had wonderful teeth, and should be a tooth model for a dentist. The bartender I haven’t decided is gay or straight, was flirting heavily with me, and then there was the traveling hippy who wanted me to join him on the road.
So, after I finish writing my two stories for the day, I’m actually looking forward to checking my Match.com account and seeing what awaits me…

April 30, 2012 Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized | Leave a comment

ROLLER SKATES, MEN AND THE MONTGOMERY WARD’S CATALOG
I used to love the Montgomery Wards Catalog when I was little. It was a big book of wishes, and I spent hours perusing my perfect bedroom, record-players, and for one full year, a pair of white, ankle-boot style roller-skates. I currently owned the model with metal wheels, leather straps and a key for adjusting them. These in the catalog were faux-leather boots with wheels made out of some kind of soft plastic. They were like the ones you rented at the roller-rink, and Kathy and I had vowed to spend our entire summer roller-skating and learning tricks.
A few weeks before my birthday my mom placed the order for my skates. They would be shipped to the Montgomery Ward counter in our town, and should arrive within seven to ten days. I stared at that page every day, and hounded my mom to start calling the store to see if they had been delivered. I waited anxiously, and thought how wonderful the world was because of Montgomery Ward’s. You could just look through the pages, make a phone call, and whatever you desired would be delivered nearly to your front door. The skate finally came, they were awesome. I am still a very talented roller-skater.
I had this flashback while browsing my “Montgomery Ward’s catalog of men,” aka. Match.com. I have scorned the idea of online dating for years, defending the time-honored tradition of meeting people naturally. Here I must admit my prejudice may have been unmerited.
It’s actually the perfect answer to meeting people. All their information is right there, along with a description and a few details about what we have in common. Obviously, after the Nazi scare, I have been reading the profiles more carefully. And I find myself waiting anxiously to check my email. Each new profile I read, and I do read some just out of curiosity, gives me a peek into another person’s life. Everyone has a story–

April 30, 2012 Posted by Tabatha Stewart | Uncategorized | 1 Comment