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Dinner At 8

I had dinner with a friend. We ate wine and drank mussels. Or something like that.

And we talked about dating. Or maybe we talked about not dating. Basically, it was kind of like the exercise discussion. We both agreed that we wanted and were ready for the benefits. We just didn't want to do any of the work necessary to achieve the desired outcome.

My friend, he recently exited a long term emotional (and legal) commitment. As for me, I recently exited a long term emotional (neither legal nor illegal) non-commitment. He got a kid as the consolation prize. I still have Boo. But now I have to buy new furniture and a new television.

Whatever.

So we talked about who we could date. We both know basically what we want in a soulmate. Tons of attraction - the physical, intellectual and emotional kind. But we'd both settle for just the physical and emotional. Or maybe just the physical.

And we'd both like a soulmate who comes with not so many issues that we're distracted from the attraction.

I asked if he'd date older women. Lately I'm quite personally intrigued at the benefits of dating an older man. Never having dated anyone older than me - much less someone even close to my own age - it's kind of neat to be with someone who thinks I'm still young. It's particularly nice to be with someone who's not scared that my biological clock might be ticking. Actually, I think it's become pretty clear that in my case, the clock may not have come with batteries.

The only problem with older men is that they're very energetic. Or it could just be that they're pretending to be very energetic. Maybe they're worried we'll think they're not energetic. Then again, maybe it's just that they don't sleep anymore. They are old, after all. (I always forget that option since I'm still young enough and childless enough to sleep my life away)

Regardless, these older guys always seem to want to do something. I think I'm too tired to date them. I'd like to know if other single women are experiencing this dynamic. If not, I need to go get tested for anemia.

For some reason, older single men want to eat late at night. They really seem to like making dinner reservations for 8:00. Don't they know you're not supposed to eat late at night? Don't they know any food eaten after 6 pm goes straight to your ass? And yet, the restaurants are full of people late at night. I had no idea. I was always busy napping in preparation for going to sleep.

When I began the transition to mature men, at first I thought a guy over 35 would be pretty old. I'll remind you that I'd been robbing the so-called cradle for a number of years. Within short order though, I was drawing the line at 40. The line crept from 40 to 50 somewhat rapidly.

When I told my colleague that her 90 year old father was quite the dashing figure, I realized that age was probably becoming irrelevant. She thinks I just like high foreheads. Really high foreheads.

So anyway, it turns out that my dinner companion is also totally open to this concept of dating someone older. When I asked if he'd consider this, he said of course without hesitation. But then I learned that his definition of older is exactly four years beyond his age.

That's a pretty small window.

But not to worry. He's flexible in so many other ways. And he's eager.

Really eager.

He brought flowers to a woman on a first date.

Of course he made the mistake of asking my opinion. And, of course, he asked for my opinion after purchasing the flowers.

"You're asking the wrong person," I lamented, begging him to withdraw the question.

"But I value your opinion."

"But my opinion doesn't reflect that of normal, regular women," I reminded him.

Now at this juncture, his only options were: [a] "But I don't want to meet a normal, regular woman..." or [b] "But tell me your opinion anyway..."

Of course I ended up providing him my opinion. I told him that I personally have never fallen in love, lust or even dangerous curiousity with a man who has brought flowers on a first date. I explained that to me, flowers should be reserved for a time when they can have meaning specific to the relationship. And, I explained, they can't possibly have meaning prior to the beginning of a first date.

Now, of course, there may be an exception to this rule.

Perhaps the couple met through correspondence while one of the luvbirds was incarcerated (i.e., the luvbird was a jailbird). It is entirely conceivable that, in that instance, a love relationship may develop. And, it is quite understandable that, upon the convicted's liberation and the occurrence of the subsequent first date, a bouquet of flowers might be quite special given the unusual circumstance.

But, in my friend's case, there was no incarceration. No unusual circumstance. No love letters forcibly opened and searched for illegal contraband.

Nope. This was just a date. And sure, he hoped to like her. But he didn't know yet if he would. And he didn't know yet if she would.

I've actually never been a huge fan of flowers. They don't speak to me, so to speak. But a recent suitor appeared with a supply of Hershey's Kisses. He had a cold and couldn't kiss me hello. So he brought a kissing substitute. Now THAT was a meaningful gesture. And cheaper too. You gotta respect that.

I haven't heard how my friend's flower date went. That could mean anything. It could mean that there was nothing to tell or that it went so well there was no time to report.

Either way, it doesn't matter.

My friend met his ex quite by accident. They were each out walking near their respective homes. After work. Leisurely. They had seen each other several times since each tended to walk rather routinely after work in the early evening. Eventually they talked. Ultimately they became more than neighbors.

I met my ex while running. Well, to be specific, we were hashing. Neither was planning to meet anyone that day. At least not anyone sober. (Hashers are drinkers who run a lot. Or runners who drink a lot. Or both.) Each of us was just running. And sweating. Ironically, neither of us was drinking. Eventually We talked. Ultimately we spent more time sweating together.

These days, my dinner friend and I counsel each other through the tribulations of dating by discussing what we want in a soulmate, who would be best as a kindred spirit and what would be ideal as a personal partnership.

And none of it matters. Because history dictates that the love (or loves) of our lives aren't where we expect them to be and they aren't who we expect them to be.

I learned in Narcotics Anonymous (Remember, I worked with addicts in another lifetime...) that you should never pray for what you want or for what you think you need because you don't know what's best for you.

I took that advice to heart.

Since then, I only pray for what's best. I never presume to know what that is.

But, just in case, if you're listening, up there? It is okay if he has a high forehead.

 


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