After
carefully reading all of the responses, Maggie decided to reply to the 30 year
old realtor submitted by his sister. The
picture she sent was dark, it was kind of hard to tell what he looked like. She
decided to give him a chance anyway. What
is better than an endorsement from another woman, right?
His
sister emailed back right away. Maggie
sent her phone number so he could call and set up a date if he was interested.
He
called an hour later. His voice was
slightly higher pitched than she’d imagined. He seemed friendly and asked her a
few questions about herself. After about fifteen minutes, they decided to pick
a time and place to meet.
The
two blind daters met up the next day at the Angelica
Theatre. When Maggie approached the
entrance, she saw someone waving to her and assumed that was him.
Realtor
Guy sported curly, unkempt clay colored hair. He wore a loose blue short sleeve
button-up with tragically un-hip denim. He looked nothing like his picture.
Luckily,
Maggie had stopped expecting any guy she met online to look like his picture.
The photos guys sent were either a. from ten years ago or b. from twenty pounds
ago or c. a group picture with no indication of who was who or d. a random
picture of a hot person that they stole and posted as their own.
He
bought their tickets and they found seats near the back of the theatre. Movie
pickings were slim, so they had settled on a cheesy horror film. They were there a few minutes before the
previews started playing.
While
she didn’t feel an instant ping of attraction, the conversation was easy.
“You’re
sister mentioned that you were newly divorced, that must be hard,” Maggie said.
“It’s
pretty awful, but I’m hanging in there. It was just finalized last week. My
sister knew I was down about it, which is what prompted her to hunt down a date
for me. What about you Maggie, you ever
been married?” Realtor Guy asked.
“Me?
Oh, no. I wish. I mean, well, haven’t found the right one I suppose, enter
Craigslist,” Maggie said.
“Good
for you, you’re young, why not enjoy your 20’s? I wish I had,” Realtor Guy
said.
The
theatre got dark and they both got quiet. Once the thirty minutes of soda
commercials and violent previews began, she noticed that Realtor Guy grazed her
knee. As the film progressed, he became increasingly more hands on. He grabbed her leg at every creepy turn. Every scary moment provided a groping opportunity. At first she thought the attention was nice,
but then she began to feel like a plush toy.
This
much touching seemed a little forward for a first date. She quickly categorized
him as the quick to the bedroom type.
Maggie was not a one night stand or sex on the first date kind of gal. Okay,
maybe it happened once, but she’d learned her lesson. That type of rendezvous
only lead her to feelings of attachment, love and ultimately heartbreak, when
he never called back.
As
the credits rolled, Maggie felt the sweet relief of a date about to near its
end. When they walked out to the lobby,
Realtor Guy insisted that they get a drink at the Pizzeria next door. She agreed, because she was afraid of first
date confrontation. It was a red and white checked tablecloth kind of joint. It
smelled like garlic and bleach.
Maggie
ordered a glass of Pinot Noir, Realtor Guy ordered a large meat covered pizza
and a light beer. His lanky frame, suggested either this was his first meal in
days or he had the sort of metabolism that women like Maggie only dreamed of
having. He asked if she minded if he ordered food, she said that was fine. As she hoped this experience would be brief,
she just sipped her glass of wine and may have consumed the bulk of the bread
in the basket. Noticing her bread binge,
he offered her a piece of his pizza, she declined. She’d filled up on bread.
Much
to Maggie’s surprise, this guy’s tentacles were tame at the restaurant. It might have been because they weren’t in
the dark. He seemed focused on his food
so there wasn’t too much talk either. This was fine with Maggie, she was kind
of counting the minutes until the end of the date. She’d pencil him into the no match column.
After
he finally finished his pizza, she’d never seen a man eat that gingerly, he
paid the check. When a guy paid, it was
always a nice touch. Maggie never took
that for granted, because lots of guys were happy to go Dutch. Her fundage situation was always a bit tight, so
she was grateful. Although, the downside
was that when a guy she wasn’t attracted to, paid, she feared he’d have
expectations of some kind.
Though
she would have preferred to walk alone, Realtor Guy walked Maggie to her
car. It was nice from a safety standpoint,
but also filled her with dread. Please
don’t try to kiss me, please don’t try to kiss me, she chanted silently in
her head.
The
mental chanting proved worthless. Predictably, once at her car, he circled her
waist and moved his hands a bit under the back of her shirt. He pulled her
close and briskly shoved his tongue into her mouth. Somehow her face became awash with spit, it
was like frenching a St. Bernard.
Yuck, what the hell was
that? she thought.
When
she could finally draw air into her mouth again, Realtor Guy smiled like a
Cheshire cat and said, “I liked kissing you.”
“Well,
have a good night,” Maggie said. She
quickly hopped in her car and shut the door abruptly.
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