no, the One has not called yet. i thought that perhaps i would feel a bit anxious and hurt, but i amactually relieved, and hoping it will not happen. maybe he’s scared of my business card. it is after all red, shiny and square, compared to all the other off white rectangles in circulation. maybe those leather pictures came up while googling me. or maybe he read this blog.
either way, the feeling of freedom is almost overwhelming. i think that in a week i will definitely be in the safe zone.
however this story reminds me of another phone call i received a couple of summers ago, while on a picnic with friends. the voice on the other side was that of a nice Alb person, who would not tell me where he had gotten my number, but who was very persistent in his coffee invitiation. of course, i did not say yes there and then, but i did say yes a couple of calls later. who can refuse free coffee?
so we met for coffee. it was a date meant to illustrate the book “What NOT TO DO on a first date, An idiot’s guide”. he asked me to meet at the Starbucks in Macy’s, which turned out to be called Met Cafe and only sold Starbucks Coffee. We sat at a table in a very narrow place and i kept seeing butts saunter by. he brought me red carnations!!!! and he tried to get me to choose things for him to buy me, when we left. and he looked like the love child of mr. frog and Ugly Betty. above all, there was no conversation, no spark, no chemistry. just dead niceties that made my eyes glaze and his wander on the passing butts.
i could not wait to leave, and erase the memory from my mind. it was very easy actually.
a couple of weeks later, my girlfriend calls me to chat. we settled in the conversation and eventually we started trading war stories about dating. she complained that her current squeeze was being very cold to her, so the eversmart and supersexy girl that i am, i advised her to dump his sorry behind and find sb else. as a matter of fact, i did have somebody in mind, a nice guy who was looking for a serious relationship with a nice girl. so he was a little froggy and a bit windy in the upstairs departament. so what? she should maybe give him a chance. i gave my friend his number and full name. she promised to call me back.
she did call me back crying and yelling, and so did he. apparently he was the one she was complaining of, and she could not get over the fact that he had two timed her with me. especially since she had been the one to give him my number as a single friend for “his best friend”. ahh the tragedies of ticking biological clocks! i did my best to calm them down separately, loosing my cool only when he tried to tell me he Never asked me out on a date, and he only met me because he wanted to see what kind of girls she was mixing with. yeah right. and the flowers were a gesture of gentlemanship, nothing more. and his ouvertures were a figment of my wild imagination and my inability to resist his amphibian attraction.
since the sane, employed, single and willing men are few and in between, i did manage to convince my friend to give him another chance. long story short, they are now married and apparently living in unhappily ever after. but it does not matter since it gave them the right to do the official engagement picture just like mommy and daddy had on top of their conjugal bed.
the story in itself became the favorite of my male and female friends, who depending on their mood add chocolate boxes, gold chain, diamond rings and other goodies to the flowers he brought whenever they tell it. anything for a good laugh really.