Installment One
Maw: I loved your suggestion that Jason sit at a table near me tonight, and Frank at a table near that.
Who is this guy, anyway? In two hours, we will have a preliminary answer. Could he be:
- An Amway distributor seeking contacts to expand his enterprise?
- An Anthony Perkins/Norman Bates character who is just a little too close to his mother?
- A guy who habitually walks around the streets of Berkeley looking for women to ask to coffee?
- A really nice guy who surprised himself by asking me to coffee?
- A woman dressed as a guy, who thinks I’d make “a damned good lesbian”? [Oh, wait. That already happened.]
- An unemployed druggie who is into porn and hoping he’s found a easily flattered older woman who is rolling in disposable income?
Stay tuned. I’ll post the answer in a second installment of this very same blog post.
I wonder if I’ll even recognize him, since I wasn’t looking that closely on the street. I didn’t think his face was data I needed to categorize for future use.
I wonder if I’d be this nervous if I were meeting a female person. I would be. I’m just shy. Recently I went out to a music show with a friend I don’t know too well, and I was really anxious and bashful.
Installment Two
I have returned. He is a really nice guy. Thanks to Steven and Genevieve and Anna and all of you who encouraged me to get together with him. It was a Good Thing To Do. I really liked him and if I were fifteen years younger, I’d want to date him. I will probably not see him again. I ordered the scallop dish because it was the only one I could read without my glasses. He said he’d call again but I will fall over backwards if he does. I didn’t feel anything “click” with him, which was, I think, an artifact of our mutual awareness of our respective ages. We shook hands afterwards. I don’t want him thinking I’m a cougar.