I sleep-walked through the work day only occasionally waking up from my semi-conscious state to check the time to see how much longer until I could escape. I imagined the next day would be even worse because that was our date night. Yeah, our official first date. Even though it was an actual true statement, I still found it difficult to believe. I prepped myself for the possibility of her blowing me off due to, well, anything. I could hear her now.
“I’m sorry Patrick but a couple friends of mine who I haven’t seen in a long time are in town and want to hang out. Maybe some other time perhaps?” or “Patrick, I’ve been thinking and I don’t know if I’m quite ready to go there with you just yet, or with anyone for that matter. I just need some ‘me’ time. You’re a good friend and I hope we can still keep a friendship. I love talking to you,” I imagined.
If you’re thinking I need to get my negative imagination under control, you are completely correct. But it’s very hard not to think in that depressing direction when it has happened to me time and time again. I think there might be some kind of script out there that was specifically created in order for girls to let me down easy. Or at least think that they are letting me down easy. One day, I think I might drop everything and commence an all out search for the creator of that script and offer them two choices: A slow painful death or a torturous painful death.
Snapping back to reality, the rest of day was the usual. Gym, home, dinner, television, and my nightly debate on what time to call this girl. Now being about 4 and half days “in the game” with her, this time was much easier than all of the others. After I caught some re-run episodes of a sitcom on television, I very casually picked up my phone and dialed her number. To my heart-stopping surprise, she answered my call about half way into the first ring.
“Hey Patrick!” she screamed.
“Uh, hey what’s up Shea? How are you doing?” I asked.
“Sorry for the scream, I just got happy when I saw your name. I think I just attacked my phone like it owes me money or something,” she responded.
“Oh yeah? Ha, ha. You’re a funny one,” I said. “Well I’m extra glad to hear that the sight of my name brings you so much joy”.
“It’s not exactly the sight of your name, it’s you. I mean you’re name is cool too, I don’t have anything against it or anything but I…I uh, I was thinking about you all day and was just glad that you called,” she said.
“Oh…I well, I am…glad to hear that too. Oh and it’s good to know that you don’t have anything against my name. If you did, I might have to re-think being your friend,” I joked.
“Oh of course not, intelligence has nothing to do with it. I took one look at you and said ‘yeah, dime piece all by herself, time to move in and spit my game’,” I retorted.
“Hahahaha, you are hilarious, no way you actually told yourself that. That doesn’t even sound like you at all,” she replied.
“Ha, yeah you’re right, far from it. I don’t think I could pull that image off if I tried,” I said.
“Well, there’s a certain sexiness about how you said it though,” she said. A “certain sexiness?!” Really?! Is she being for real or just setting me up for another joke. Hard to tell with females, they are the masters of disguise in everything they do. Covert spies who always get their man. Hopefully I’m the man she has in her crosshairs.
“Was there really?” I asked.
“Yup, I mean guys talking like that can be sexy, to an extent. They have to know how to say it, when to say it and how often. And the most important thing is that they don’t usually talk like that. Slang is not a bad thing, but as a female gets older and starts to look for that right someone to settle down with, they really don’t want a guy who doesn’t have an adult vocabulary. But since I know that you do, I thought you sounded sexy just then,” she explained.
“Wow, something else that’s good to know. I feel like I should be making a ‘Good Things to Know’ list. So I can remember all the things that you like,” I responded.
“You could if you want, but I think I’m a pretty simple girl. I don’t ask for too much and I try not to complain too much either. Many girls can be very picky and very superficial. I feel like I’m too old and mature for things like that. Just give me ‘this, this and that’ and I’m yours all day every day,” she said.
“And what might ‘this, this and that’ be?” I asked.
“Well, respect is at the top of my list. I’m not talking about worshipping the ground that I walk on or feeling like you have to check up on me every two minutes to see if I’m ok, but just basic respect. If we’re having a discussion, then let me speak and I’ll let you speak. There are always at least two sides to a story and I want to hear yours as much as I want you to hear mine,” she said.
“So I guess you like to hold hands?” I asked.
“Uh, um ok, well I uh, suppose…,” she started.
“Ohhhh, ok, I’ll admit you got me that time. I was about to hang up, I don’t know if I could go without holding hands. And thank you for the compliment, by the way,” she replied.
“You’re very welcome. I look forward to holding onto your hand. If you’ll let me, of course,” I said.
“Well, as much as I would absolutely love to keep talking to you, I think I should go get some rest,” I said.
“That’s a good one but seeing how I must prepare in order to impress you tomorrow, I think I should be well rested,” I said. Smooth enough? I thought so.
“You do have a point there, but truthfully there’s no need to try to impress me. You’ve already done so much. Just keep being yourself and you can’t go wrong,” she advised.
“Ok, well I’ll take your advice under consideration. Maybe it’ll work,” I said.
“Of course it’ll work, it’s my idea”
“You’re just a regular comedian, you must crack yourself up”
“Good night Shea, sweet dreams,” I responded. “Oh wait!...”
“I, uh…I, um. Uh, I think about you too. I actually think about you a lot,” I finally admitted.
“Oh, why thank you Patrick. That was sweet. It’s good to know I’m on someone’s mind,” she replied.
“My pleasure my dear, hope you sleep well. See you tomorrow evening,” I said.
“7:30, good night”
I kept the phone to my ear until I heard her hang-up. That took a lot for me to say. I was a little upset at myself for stuttering and taking so long to say it. She admitted it first; it should have been a piece of cake for me to say the same thing. But yet it wasn’t. It actually felt as if it was harder than if I had been the one to say it first for some strange reason.
Even though she sounded happy to speak to me and seemed like she generally enjoyed my company the day before, I still had my doubts. I had been down this road before. I was different than her last boyfriend. I was nice, attentive, considerate, respectful and made her laugh. But how long would it last? How long until I expire? She liked her ex at some point. She had to or else they wouldn’t have ever dated. What did she like about him? What didn’t she like about him? Would I fall into that same category again where girls like me during the honeymoon phase? Then when the vacations over, they realize I have outlasted my purpose. I had run my course with them and it was time for them to move on and either return to their “me time” phase or find someone better.
To be continued...