The Anatomy Of A Date

The Anatomy

Of A Date

by Cary Jones

We met, initially, on the phone. I hadn’t been on a date in over a year.  So, my radar was on high the day my phone rang at work, and this melodious voice inquired about the cost of our repair system.  His tone was so scintillating that I intentionally prolonged the conversation.

Later, he became a client, and as time went on, we talked regularly, but it was always business-related.  However, I became more and more curious about him and what he looked like.  Sometimes, I would make up an excuse to call him and flirt.  However, he blocked all my passes by being aloof and keeping it professional.

When I finally met him in person at our annual Christmas office party, he exceeded my expectations by a milestone.  He was handsome, muscular, and very tall.  He was equally impressed.  When he looked at me, his eyes lit up and he began asking me all sorts of personal questions.   By the end of the party, he had secured my cell number and a date for the next evening.

I was so excited about going out with him that I took off from work the next day to shop for the right outfit.  When I met him the next evening at the restaurant, he was beaming. Over dinner, we found the same things funny, which was very important to me, and he talked about his recent divorce.  I was extremely impressed when he rattled off the various types of wines as if he were a wine steward, and when he brushed a runaway curl gently out of my eye, For a moment, I envisioned monogrammed towels in my bathroom with his initials on it. 

As we dined by candlelight, I found him to be one of the most interesting men I’d ever met, and I was already looking forward to our next date.  Mesmerized by his light brown eyes, I listened intently as he spoke about his five children, alimony payments to his ex-wife, and being in court over paternity charges.  WAIT!  PATERNITY CHARGES, ALIMONY PAYMENTS, FIVE CHILDREN!   Suddenly, my dreamy state was shaken back to reality. 

I was ready to date.  I was ready for a relationship. But I was not ready to even entertain a guy who had that much baggage.  In the blink of an eye, I made a quick decision that this would be our last date.  I shifted in my seat to switch from my demure position to my power position.   I was ready to end the evening.

My demure posture is where I lean forward sensuously with a flirtatious smile on my face, which bespeaks that I am hypnotized by each word that is coming from this man’s mouth.  The power posture is where I sit straight up and stare without the slightest smile. 

As he continued to talk about how pleased he was to finally meet me, I began to plan my exit.  I didn’t wish to waste any more of my time.  There was nothing I could do with this guy and I was ready to move on.  I was so ready to go that I began drumming my fingers on the table.  He finally got the message and requested the check.  I had ceased to talk.  When he asked me what was wrong…I pretended to have a sudden headache.  When we got outside, I pecked him on the cheek, thanked him for a lovely evening, and ran to my car.

When he called the next day, it was my turn to be professional and aloof.  I intentionally didn’t mention the previous evening and he got the message.  He never called again, and I gave his account to a colleague at work.