Fix Me Up!
This town is devoid of interesting, single men between the ages of 45 and 60. It’s not just a complaint, it’s a fact. So when my girlfriend down the street told me her former brother-in-law who she was really fond of had recently moved back from Hawaii and asked if I would like to go out with him, I said “sure, fix me up!”
I was still game to give it a try even after she told me he had a handle-bar mustache which I find completely offensive. I figured, what the heck, if he’s a good guy we can work on the facial hair issue sometime down the road. And, I didn’t even flinch when she told me his name was “Lester”. A person has no control over what his parent’s name him, right? I could always call him “Les”.
So he called and we talked on the phone. He sounded relatively normal, other than the fact that he couldn’t make a plan, so I took the reins and said, “Let’s meet for dinner”. He couldn’t figure out where to go, so I said, “Let’s go to P.F. Changs”. He wanted to pick me up and since he was a friend of a friend, and not an online connection, I gave him my address and we set an evening and a time.
The evening came and I was looking gorgeous as always and waiting for my date to arrive at my door. When he did I looked out the window and what did I see? A short, bald man with a handle-bar mustache wearing stained chinos at least two sizes too big for him cinched at the waist with a belt. Don’t be shallow, I told myself as I opened the door, she said he’s a great guy.
After the initial introductions and a little “how’s your friend Joanie doing?” we’re on our way to the restaurant. He hardly spoke at all in the car. Luckily, the restaurant was only five minutes away.
There was a long wait so we asked to be seated in the bar. The waiter brought the menus and we began to take a look. Then he leaned over and asked me, “What do the numbers mean in front of the items?” I thought, finally a bit of a sense of humor, but then I realized he was asking a serious question. “That’s the price of the item,” I told him. Okay…things were going downhill fast. Fifty years old and he’d never seen a restaurant menu where the prices were in front, rather than behind the entrée names?
So, we order, and still he doesn’t have much to say. In an attempt to draw him out, I think…what do men like to talk about? Someone had just recently been teaching me to target shoot so I asked him, “Do you shoot?” “Oh yeah,” he replied, “I’d never hesitate to kill someone that’s why they loved me when I was a prison guard.” Once again, completely straight faced and totally serious! Now, I was getting worried. I was married for nineteen years to a Marine who served three tours in Vietnam and I know he killed people when he had to, obviously it was a war, but I NEVER heard him speak of it and certainly not in an off the cuff manner that suggested people’s lives don’t really matter. The evening had crossed a line from boring and not my type to a little bit scary.
Silence again, so I made an attempt to change the subject to something lighter, “What did you do for fun in Hawaii.” I asked him. I was expecting him to tell me about the sun and the surf or exploring the islands but instead he replied, “Gambled and hung out at strip clubs.” OH MY!!!! If this had not been a friend of a friend this would have been the cue for me to excuse myself to the ladies room and never come back. Instead, I sat through the rest of the meal relatively quietly and let the man take me home after which I left my friend a voice mail that I’m sure you can imagine for yourself!
The best part of the story is the next day Joanie responded to my voice mail and called to let me know she had heard from Lester and he had told her I really wasn’t his type. “Of course not”, I told her, “I don’t dance naked around a pole in public!”
Needless to say…should you ever know a guy, an old friend or someone new in town who’s looking to date…please…DON’T FIX ME UP!
July 27, 2011