Monday Mimisms ~ It Was Just A Date

 "It's just a date," I told my friends. "Juuuust a date. No more. No less. A date. A.DATE. I neeeeed to go out on a date. I need to have fun. Just.a.date."  I realized about halfway through the mahi-mahi that he must have felt the same way. And you know what? It was a very fine thing. Refreshing. He was full of compliments and praise...but not in a sleazy way. In a genuine spontaneous kinda way that made me blush.
It felt like rain on a desert.

I haven't had a good date in so long I'd forgotten. Until last night.

How good it feels to have someone do something nice just for me, take the time to make reservations and make it really special.  How nice to hear someone laugh at my lame jokes even when I knew they were lame.
How nice not to occupy air with flirting and no substance. How nice to feel him watch me even when I knew he knew I knew he was watching.
How nice to catch it silently and say no more. How nice.
How lovely to be treated as though he was the one being treated.
And I thank him for that.
 
But....(you could see that coming, couldn't you?) the last time I ventured out into romantic waters I had to change my name and go into the Bloggers Witness Protection Program.  That must be working out all right. Our last date was four months ago and he hasn't found me yet. Thank God for anonymous proxies!

But yesterday was different. I threw out the LIST. You know the one. Must be handsome. Must be tall. Must be employed I actually kept that one   Must be rich. Must be sane. Must not live with his mother. Must not have small children. Must not love his dog more than me. Must not must not must not.

 He did make me smile. You wanna know why? Because he was such a gentleman, and I don't mean in a sappy condescending way that some Southern men tend to be, but inherently well-mannered and considerate.  He didn't make see-through suggestions (do they think we're stupid?) or make me want to suddenly acquire a migraine exit strategy and run for the door. He was down-to-earth and real. He didn't try to impress me (we do know the difference) and I felt comfortable being myself. No pressure. No expectations. Just enjoying the food, the music, the conversation. He was interested in my interests without the what's-in-for-me vibe. And I found him bright and grounded in the things that matter. It was a good date. A good one. I'm way overdue for a good one. I wish men could see how much women appreciate manners, compliments, door-opening and kindness. And that we value maturity and integrity.
 At least this woman does.

 I would like to thank him for treating his date like a lady. And for making me feel special. Sometimes meeting someone serves a purpose other than having more dates with them or beginning a new relationship. Sometimes it's just a date.

This was a good one.




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