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The Dating Chronicles

The Game

As Kent mounted the steps to his apartment, he dragged under the weight of the many packages he was carrying.  He had taken the day off and had bought every “electronic toy” that appealed to him.  He was still heady from the night before as he fumbled to open his apartment door.

The excitement from the encounter with Gloria was still prominent in his mind.  He had been thinking about her all day but decided to wait a week to call her.  He wanted to build up the excitement and her anticipation level.  He wanted to talk to her now, but he knew from experience that to call too soon could take away the drama.  Experience had taught him that women preferred a little drama to the appearance of over-anxiousness.  To call too soon, could make a statement that he was unoccupied, not busy enough or overanxious.  He would wait.

But as he stooped to bring in the last package from the hall, he felt an overpowering urge to call her.  After all, meeting her had inspired his day and talking to her would be the perfect cap to the evening. He hadn’t taken a day off in months and he had enjoyed every moment of it.  “To heck with the games,” he thought to himself, as he pulled out his phone.  Suddenly, he felt that if she was who he imagined her to be; a woman of warmth and intelligence, she would not preconceive, she would bask in the moment.  He knew she wouldn’t call him.  Women always had to play the Waiting Game. The phone rang in his hand.

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Gloria sat quietly and stared at her phone.  Her mind drifted slowly to the previous evening and the man she’d met.  He had been quiet and unassuming when he approached her in the crowd.  He was self-asserted, yet humble as he spoke tenderly in her ear, mixing his wit with disarming observations.  She was fascinated by the scent of his cologne and his heavy mustache.  He was distinguished, yet boyish and his name fit him well…Kent.

The noise as the party had been deafening, but she had heard every word he spoke, clearly.  They exchanged numbers with promises to call, but she didn’t want to leave him.  The chemistry crackled between them as they parted at the end of the evening.  As they said goodbye, he held her hand and pushed her hair out of her eye with the other.

For her, it was a gentle gesture never before experienced and she floated out of the party into the balmy night air, oblivious to the surrounding sounds of merriment.

Now, she sat staring at his number trying to make up her mind to call him.  Those unwritten laws about letting the guy call first kept intruding on her thoughts.  But she wanted to see him and she didn’t feel like playing the waiting game.  She resented the power automatically bestowed on men by the nature of their sex.  Why should they be the master in the game of pursuit?  Her friend Sofia would say, “only hungry women make the first move after a connection  and men move away quickly from a woman who appears to not have been fed in a while.”  “I’m not hungry,” she thought to herself.  “I just want to continue the moment without losing the rhythm.”

She ran the possibilities through her mind.  1. He could be a flirt only.  2. He could be a numbers man, (one who makes a hobby out of collecting phone numbers and creating anxiety) or 3.  He could be a man who was sincerely attracted to her and was now thinking about her.  The last thought served as strong motivation as she reached for the phone and dialed his number quickly before she lost her courage. He answered on the first ring.

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