What Happened Between Tuesday and Wednesday?

I know it’s been forever since my last post.  I’m sorry but work has been getting in the way.  Here’s my latest story.  I really hope you enjoy it.  As always, please leave comments.  Tell me what you think.  I love to hear back from you.  Most of the comments are from “anonymous” so it’s hard to write back but I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your words.    Well, let’s get on with this already! J

What Happened Between Tuesday and Wednesday?

So, on Bella’s advice I join an internet dating service.  I’ve done this before.  Actually I’ve done this a lot, but never on a free site.  Here goes. 

I grab a glass of wine and sign up.  I’m surprised with all the questions.  They are fun and interesting questions, so I don’t mind too much.  Plus I have my Sauv Blanc in front of me, so I’m enjoying myself.

I’m answering questions like:

·         Alone in public, do you usually start conversations with strangers?

·         Do you like to dance?

·         Do you like porn?

·         Do you keep a to-do list?

·         Do you do drugs?

·         Do you consider yourself smarter than most people?

·         So, if a implies b, does that mean not b implies not a?

·         Would you rather get caught masturbating by your mother or father?

·         Do you like wild parties?

·         How do you feel about blind dates?

·         What about homeless people?

·         Do you pay your bills, in full and on time?

·         How do you feel about sex without love?

·         If you have five very successful dates with someone, are you a couple?

·         In public, someone winks at you.  That is flattering or cheesy?

·         You’re in a serious relationship, and your mate asks for a threesome.  You are more offended or relieved.

·         Suppose your boyfriend/girlfriend is horribly burned in a car accident that was totally your fault.  They are badly mutilated and “pissed off”.  Is it time to say goodbye?

·         Would you rather die yourself or have 10 random people in the world die?  What if it were 10,000 people?

Honestly, there about 500 of these types of questions.  I was having so much fun answering the questions; I didn’t realize I was sitting at my computer for over two hours.  I stop the question/survey portion and decide to work on my photos.

I try to find the most current where I don’t look too old, but as cute as I can be.  Pictures where I look active, maybe my skydiving picture?  I look adventurous.  Maybe a picture of me at the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer walks?  I look philanthropic and fit.   Another picture when I’m dressed up.  I clean up well.  And of course a picture with all my girlfriends smiling and having a good time.  I look like a fun person that gets out and has a good time. 

Once completed with the entire profile, I hit publish and stare at my computer.  I start to get nervous.  What am I going to find? 

I sit and ponder.  No, this isn’t scary, this can be exciting.  I’ve got to be positive.  I hear my friends’ voices in my head telling me, “You have to have a better attitude.”

I take another sip of my wine and all of sudden there’s a change on my screen.  I get an instant message from someone named hiIwanttolayyou.  You’re beautiful.

I shake my head, gulp down the rest of my wine, hit ignore, and shut off the computer.  I get ready for bed, praying this isn’t the quality of men that will continue to contact me.  Let this time be different.

Sure enough when I wake up I had a tug on my line when I was sleeping. 

I can’t give it my full attention until I get to work and take a peek before anyone gets in. 

I look around me to see who’s in the office when I hit enter on the site name.  Newinthecities sent me a message.

Hmmm.  Let’s see what he’s all about.  I first take a look at his pictures.  (Seriously, who doesn’t do that first before reading what the man has to say?  I know I’m not alone in this!)

Pictures look decent; actually kind of nice.  He might look like he’s going to download a baby soon, but  there are a lot of men out there that have a beer belly at this age.  He still looks pretty good.  Bella might be onto something here.  I take a look at his description. 

·         6’5”.  Nice!  A taller man!  I seem to like the shorter men – but it sure would be nice to actually look up to someone.

·         Christian.  He’s not an atheist? Not Agnostic?  Really?  Another plus!

·         Divorced with two boys.  I’ve never dated a man with children – but I don’t think at this age I’ll find anything different.

·         Entrepreneur.  Does that mean he has a job?  Most men I meet seem to get by in life without one.  I really need to figure out how they do this as I want to do this.  But maybe they peruse these sites looking for someone to support them.  Yes, I know I sound pessimistic, but you’d be too if you had my history with dating.  (I actually have a story to post later about a pan-handler.  Yes, true story.)

·         Drinks socially.  I hope this means like a cocktail or two and not an alcoholic.

·         Drugs?:   No.  Meaning not at this moment?  Or wants to but can’t afford it?  Just got out of rehab and really trying to deny the dark impulses and feelings? 

·         Likes to go out yet also likes to stay home, cook and watch movies.  All I see is that he likes to cook.  I like to eat, so this could be a good match.

·         Golfer and doesn’t mind teaching.  I have my own clubs.  For some reason this really turns men on.  Owning my own clubs does not mean I know what I’m doing.  But he did say he doesn’t mind teaching.  My mother always said “a couple that golfs together stays together”.

I take another look at his pictures and decide to read what he wrote. 

“Hi Cheetahtort.  I checked out your profile and think we might have a connection.  Do you want to take a chance?  Let’s take this chance together.  I’m new to this site and new to the cities.  Saw your picture and wanted to meet you.  What do you think?  Would you like to see what happens?  Let me know.  I hope you respond.  – Steve.”

He didn’t say anything scary.  He was kind and thoughtful.  But you never know.  My guard it up, but I remind myself this is why I’m using the site – to take a chance.

Of course I show Maddie the profile and pictures. 

“Is he towering over that Christmas tree?”  Maddie says amused.   She’s seen so many of these photos and I think she might have her guard up as well.   “Seriously, how tall is this man?”

“HA!  It says 6’5”.  You’re right, he looks enormous or that’s a really tiny tree.  What do you think?  Should I respond?”

“Yeah, why not  - go for it.”  Maddie says not convinced this is going to work.  I turn my head to see the pessimistic look on her face and realize I might have the same look.

But I decide to “take a chance with him.”

“Hi Steve.  Thank you for the nice message.    I checked out your profile as well and you seem like a nice man.  It would be nice to get to know you more.  I loved the picture of you with the ‘Charlie Brown’ Christmas tree.  Let’s take the chance.”

I don’t hear from him for two days.  But I had some entertainment during this time. 

I had many 21 to 26 year old men (or should I say boys) e-mailing me. 

I love older women.  How do you feel about younger men?”  One said.  Do you like friends with benefits? another asks.  All I can think of is my little “Tiger”.  Not doing that again.  I learned my lesson.  (Don’t worry I’ll keep you updated on Tiger.)  But I’m flabbergasted at how many young men want a cougar or dare I say a Cheetahtort.

Then finally I get the e-mail I was waiting for . . . “Cheetahtort, sorry for the late response.  My kids take priority and I’m not always able to respond.  I’m sorry.  I hope you are doing well.  I would love to grab a drink or coffee sometime.  Let me know.  Steve.”

I don’t have kids and have never dated anyone with kids so this is all new to me.  But I respect his responsibilities.  I end up giving him my phone number so we can tie down the plans. 

He calls me but I’m not around my phone and am not able to answer.  He ends up leaving me a text message.  I’m fine with a couple text messages but not having this as our only type of connection. 

“Good Morning!  I’m sorry I didn’t catch you.  I’ll try again tomorrow.  We got busy with some last second homework and I was ready to murder mystery my son.  Enjoy the nice weather.” His first text message reads.

“Sounds good, I’m looking forward to your call.” I respond.

He calls the next day while he’s sitting in the car while his sons are running in to the pizza joint picking up their dinner.  We have a quick, fun conversation.  I get a small picture of what this guy is like.  At least I get to hear his voice, his laugh and sense of humor.

I like what I hear so far.

“Cheetahtort, my sons are running back to the car, I need to go, but can I talk to you later?”

“Of course.” I say trying to be understanding but questioning why he doesn’t call when he has the time.  But again, I don’t have kids so I really can’t judge.

He calls the next night and we talk for an hour or so.  It was a really good conversation.  I’m still not sure why each man has to give their whole life history in a single breath.  It’s almost like they are throwing it up and then can feel better and can move on.

I, on the other hand, don’t give up too much right away.  I’m more guarded and don’t want to give too much right away.  The world doesn’t need to know all my stories (except for my readers J).  Besides, I don’t think they are listening anyway.

But, I’m able to get a couple words in and he seems to like what I have to say and says . . .  “Cheetahtort, we need to get together.”

“Alright, you name the place and time and I’ll be there.” As I like what he has to say as well.

We meet at Buffalo Wild Wings for a beer. 

I walk in and he’s waiting for me.  I turn around the corner and see a very tall man standing and waiting for his date.  He looks nervous as I see him wringing his wrists and pacing.

I walk up to him, tap him on the shoulder, he turns to see me, gives me a once over and gives me a warm, strong hug. 

“Cheetahtort, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” He says while still hugging me.

“Nice to meet you too.”  I say with my face forcefully pressed against his shoulder.

I struggle to back up to look at the man who is aggressively hugging me. 

I’m pleasantly surprised.  He looks just as good as his pictures.

“Let’s take a seat.  Would you like a beer?”  he asks.

“You bet I would.” I say in return.

We are eying each other, making our own judgments.  Is he worthy?  Is she worth my time?

I’m guessing we both pass as we order our beers.  I take a look at the server and I think she recognizes me.  I can tell she’s thinking . . .   Wasn’t she just here two weeks ago with a nerd?  I think she was here for half a beer.   (I'll share this story)

We take our first sips of our beers, relax and start enjoying our time together.

We are getting along great.  He’s a true gentleman.  He shares his stories, he asks me my stories, and he actually listens and makes comments.  I start to get shy, which is always a good sign.

I pay attention to his body language.  He starts to touch my arm.  I pay attention to my own body language.  I don’t pull away. 

“I’m not a ladies’ man, I’m really not.  I’m not a player.  If I were out with my buddies and saw a beautiful woman sitting alone, across the bar, I wouldn’t go up and approach her.  I’ve actually never approached a woman.  Maybe that’s why I’m single.” 

(Strange thing to say, but I think he’s trying to prove that he’s a good guy and not a womanizer).  Yeah, I bite. 

After a couple beers, we start to wrap up the evening.  He pays for the beers and he walks me to the car.

“I had a really nice time tonight; I would really like to see you again.  Would you like to grab coffee or something on Sunday afternoon?”

I smile up at him.  He laughs a shy laugh, takes a hold of my hand and pulls me into a hug.

“That sounds really nice.  I had fun tonight and would like to see you again too.”  I say once again pressed to his shoulder.  Maybe this is something I need to get used to.  I think I can.

We say goodnight and he walks to his car.  He looks over his shoulder my way and gives a small smile and wave.

I get into my car, sit quietly for a moment and then give a loud squeal. 

“Yes!”

Once I got home, I realize I’ve already received a text from him.

Cheetahtort, I had an awesome time with you.  Wow . . . you are very beautiful and smart too . . That’s a combination that makes my knees weak.  I really can’t wait to see you again.  Sunday seems a long way away.

Another loud squeal makes its way out without my noticing!

I try to take a breath and want to respond.  Oh what to say.  Don’t sound desperate.   Don’t sound too anxious.  Sound confident.  Sound nice.  Another deep breath and . . .

“You are so nice.  Thank you!  I had a great time.  I know you don’t like hearing compliments but I thought you were very handsome too.  Looking forward to Sunday.”

I put the phone down and do a small dance.  I try to calm down and sleep.  It’s hard.  I keep thinking about the gentleman I was just out with.  His eyes, his smile, his laugh, his touch, his text; I’m reeling in the possibilities.  I haven’t been on a nice date for so long.  I toss, turn, smile, giggle and finally have a dream-filled sleep.

I wake the next day, take a look at myself in the mirror and see the restless sleep I had the night before.  “Ahhhh” I scream at my reflection and am relieved that I’m not seeing him today. 

I get to work and Maddie sees the permagrin on my face.

“Looks like someone had a good time last night.” 

“I did!”  I say with a dreamy look on my face.

I take my phone out of my purse and notice I have a new text. 

“A text message!” I say to Maddie! 

We read it together.

“Good Morning!  You sure were on my mind last night . . . I dreamed about you all night!  I have to say you really have me intrigued.  I like you!  Have a great day.  Oh, thanks for the nice compliment . . . coming from you that made me happy.”

“Wow, that’s awesome Cheetahtort, tell me all about it.  I can tell by the look on your face it was a good one.” Maddie says knowing it’s been a long time since I’ve been happy about a date.  I think she was already preparing herself for my horrible story.

Of course, as a girl, I tell her all about it then anxiously respond to his text. 

As I knew he was going to the baseball game that night I respond. . .

“Good morning!  You make me smileJ  I like you too and looking forward to getting to know you more.  Looks like you are going to have a great day for the game tonight.  Have a great time!”

He instantly responds with - “Do you like going to the games?  I have access to tickets pretty much whenever I want if you ever want to go. J”

“That would be so much fun!  We should do that sometime for sure!  I hope your friend feels well enough to enjoy tonight.”  I respond.

Later that evening when I know the game is in play I see a storm rolling in.  It’s pretty bad that I see on the news that they are evacuating the stadium.

“You better be careful – I would like to see you again.”  I text him.  I’ve never put myself out like this.  Ever!

“You are a sweetheart”  is his return.

The next day . . .

“Is it Sunday yet . . . Geez louise I kind of can’t wait to see you again!” Is the text I receive when I wake up.  What a nice way to start the day.

“Good morning!  You say the nicest things.  Geez louise, I can’t either!  I hope you have a great day.”  I say in return.

He continues to send me messages saying he wishes Sunday were closer or why did he make the second date so far away.  Or that he could help make my boring day brighter.  Or what he does when he’s bored at work.  Then he says that he may need a bottle of wine before Sunday and asks me where there’s a cute wine sales lady, knowing I work at a wine store.  I don’t tell anyone where I work as I’m a sitting duck there and can’t do anything if someone visits me.  Like them or not.

I wake up the next morning to texts from him.  He’s now started to call me Sweetie pie.  (Ugg!).  He really can’t call me that as he really doesn’t know me yet.  Yeah, I might be guarded.  Do you blame me?  And why all the texts?  Can’t a man call a woman anymore?  Texts are fun, but if you are courting a woman – shouldn’t you call them?

Then he continues to text me with “What was the reason I couldn’t see you tonight?  Or “Hi Hon, just thinking about you and how nice it’d be to see you.”  “I’m hoping to get a kiss next time I see you.”

 I tell him I out and busy with friends. 

I’m not going to give up my life waiting on the next date.  I continue with my life.  He tells me that he’s not doing anything but watching his kids.

Finally Sunday arrives.  We meet at a coffee shop.  He’s late of course.  But I forgive him when he walks in because he looks so good.  We stand in line and order our drinks.  While I’m placing my order, he puts his hand at the small of my back.  He’s taller than me and I feel protected.  Oh Yeah, I like this feeling.  I tingle from head to toe.

We sit down with our drinks and start our conversations like we have been friends forever.  It’s very comfortable.  He reaches across the table and takes my hand.  I look down to my hand wrapped in his.  It’s been so long since a man, that I actually like, takes my hand.  I like this but am a bit uncomfortable because I don’t really know him.  Yes, I can go out, drink a couple cherry bombs, find a man and make out.  But this is different.  This is important.  This isn’t just a drunk make out session.  This is two people meeting each other trying to figure out if we are meant to be.

He notices me being a bit uncomfortable.  “Cheetahtort, you told me you were shy.  I don’t believe you.  I see you.   You may be a little reserved, and I don’t blame you, but I don’t see a shy woman in front of me.  I see a confident woman that’s maybe had some bad dates before and not ready to let go right now.  I totally understand.”

I blush at what he says and try to change the subject a bit and say, “Funny you say that.  I’ve started a blog about all the bad dates I’ve been on.”

“You have a blog about bad dates?”

“You bet and I’m completely honest in my posts.”

“Well, you won’t need this blog anymore Cheetahtort.  You’re dating me now and I will never treat you poorly that you would need to blog.  Wait, maybe you should blog about how a good man treats a woman and then you can blog about me.”

Did I finally meet my match?  Did I finally meet the man I was supposed to meet?  Did I just start my blog and now need to stop because there is a man out there for me that isn’t shit?

I’ll be honest, I was hopeful.  I was holding my head up higher thinking, yep, even though this is really early on, this might be a good one. I haven’t seen anything scary yet.  He hasn’t told me he’s addicted to drugs or alcohol, he hasn’t been grounded by his mother lately, or needs to take a cab or walk wherever he goes.   I felt very optimistic and happy.

“I’d like to see you again.  What do you think?  Should we do a picnic on Wednesday?”

I laugh at him as I can’t hide my happiness.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“I’m not laughing at you.  I’m enjoying this moment.  A picnic sounds really nice.  I’d love it.”

He walks me to my car with my hand in his.  I have a hubcap missing and he checks out my car, trying to judge my wheel size, wanting to fix this.  I’m in heaven.  Having a big strong man taking care of me. 

I’m smiling at him when he looks up from my front right tire.

“What?” he says with a little smile.

“I know, I’m driving a poor white trash car, and I’m embarrassed.” 

“Cheetahtort, I’m not a label guy.  I don’t care what type of car you drive.  But, I do care that you get to your destination safely.”

I think I might have swooned.

If I did or didn’t, he was there to grab a hold of me.  He looked down to me, while his arms are wrapped around my waist, smiled and slowly bent down to give me the sweetest, softest kiss.

I didn’t care that we were in a coffee shop parking lot and people were all around us, I just enjoyed.

We said our goodbyes with another kiss.

When I got home I got another text from this tall luscious man. 

“I really enjoyed seeing you . . . I don’t know if you noticed but I really like you!  Can’t wait to see you Wednesday.   Don’t be a stranger Honey and I won’t be either.  Call me whenever you want.”

“I did too and I do too.  Thank you for today.  I’m really looking forward to Wednesday.”  I text back.

Once again I find myself jumping around in my kitchen.  My cat gets scared and runs off. 

I rush to work the next morning because I can’t wait to tell Maddie all about the date. 

We get our coffees and commence our usual morning coffee talk. 

I gush and she sits back and laughs at my happiness. 

While I’m gushing, my phone buzzes.  I get so excited I nearly spill all the contents out of my purse looking for my phone.

“Good Morning Sunshine!  (I’m surprised by this endearment as my Dad has always called me this) It’s a glorious morning . . . about the only thing that could make it better would be another kiss from you!  Have a good day.”

I blush and turn the phone towards Maddie so she can read.  We start laughing together.

Around 12:30 I get another text . . . “I’m really busy today but I keep thinking about you”. 

I don’t hear from him the rest of the day, and that was alright as I was really busy myself. 

On Tuesday morning I get a couple more “cute” texts.  I guess this is his only way of communication.  I find it frustrating, but I’m willing to go through this if it means I get him in the end.

Later that afternoon, I get:

“Hi Honey . . . Bad News . . . I’m going to have to beg you to give me a rain check for our Wed. picnic.  I’ve got a rescheduled baseball game that I just can’t miss.  His mom can’t take him and its smack dab in the middle of the evening at 7.  I’ll call you later tonight.”

I don’t respond because we can talk later when he calls.   

Well, he doesn’t call. 

Did he not call because I didn’t respond to the text?  I wait all morning for his usual early morning text. 

No texts.

He’s cancelled our date, doesn’t call when he said he was going to, and now no morning texts?  Something’s up. 

So many things are swirling around in my head.  What could have happened?  Did I say something wrong?  Maybe he’s just busy?  Maybe he died?  Changed his mind about me?  A bookcase fell on top of him and he can’t reach a phone?  He went into a seedy part of town to buy drugs and the drug dealers stole his phone and car and he had to walk miles in his flip flops.  (sound familiar?) 

Everything that could go through my mind did. 

I decided to text him and see if everything was alright.

“I hope you are OK.  It’s a great day for baseball.”

Nothing.

I wait until the end of the day to text again.  I don’t want to seem pushy or needy – but want to at least point out I know something’s wrong.  So I go with . . .

“OK J  I’m adding you to my blog! J”

My phone buzzes and I receive a text from him:

Hey I’m sorry Cheetahtort . . . You’re only the sweetest, cutest, most genuine woman I’ve met.  Unfortunately I met someone else too that I have a really great connection with.  You deserve an explanation and I guess I was just stalling.  I truly apologize and I guess you have every right to rip me.  A lot of finding people is timing . . . And I guess mine is terrible. . . Because you are really great . . . so I just hope you won’t completely hate me.  Good luck.

I’m stunned.  He found someone else?  How?  When?  I’m not stunned that he found someone else because he’s a good looking, charming man.  I’m stunned that he was courting me, saying the things he was saying to me and texting me all the time.  When did he have the time?  Was he sitting across the table with a woman and texting me?  After he had coffee with me, did he have lunch with her? 

Well, at least he didn’t waste any time and told me right away.  Well, sort of.

I respond with “I wish you the best.  Have fun.”

Fucker.