Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

Contrary to prior pronouncements, on Saturday I “consulted” Craig’s List personals. My intense feeling of being beaten down, of not being in control of my life, of needing to be outside of my box in even a small way, caused this pledge breaker. I answered one ad, because there was only one that seemed to correspond with a man who might be, well, a decent human being.

No, I am not interested in being spanked. No, I am not interested in dominating you. No, I am not interested in your dominated me. No, I am not interested in your need to bring passion to your life because you are in a passionless marriage. No, I am not slender. No, I do not come without baggage. No, I am not interested in going on a ride on your bike. No, I am not fascinated by your need to write a full-page ad about how wonderful you are.

And when I un-ranaway on Saturday, I had a response from that possibly decent man. And following through on this need of movement, the correspondence was brief and to the point. We set up a date for coffee on Sunday afternoon. When he suggested that we go to the coffee shop I had mentioned off-handedly, I was tempted to say “No, no you can’t come to my place.” But I decided to go with the flow here; why not meet in my favorite coffee shop? Will he stalk me for ever after? Again, trusting my ability to know when to flow, I flowed and agreed to meet there.

When I walked in at precisely the right time, he was sitting there, with a cup of coffee in front of him. Oy. I was ready to leave.

My last date also had his coffee before I got there. What is with these men? Mr. Previous waited at the table outside of Panera’s as I went in and got my lemonade. Yes, I eschewed coffee. I wanted to have some tartness in my drink, at least, for all hope of a charming date had flown the coop with that cheap maneuver. I admit it, I am a feminist, except when it comes to men paying on a date, at least in the beginning. If he can’t rise to the occasion for a $2 cup of coffee or lemonade, what hope is there for the future? Generosity of spirit has got to start somewhere.

I’m not sure if my face fell or if I was able to hold it up, but to his credit he got up immediately and offered to get me something. (There is still the strike of impatience that is being held against him, but I don’t hold grudges for too long.) Yes, I permitted him to buy me a cup of iced coffee. And then we sat outside and talked for an hour and a half. And I was not tempted in the least to provide a point-by-point account against the ex, I just didn’t want to, it was—is—not who I am now. And as my friend said to me the next day when I told her this, “good for you;” I am glad that I no longer define myself through that experience.

When we walked back inside the coffee shop to go potty, there was a friend’s husband (thankfully he was not at my usual table). The man, my friend and I discovered in very heart-wrenching discussions, is my ex’s twin. A man who could go count for count opposite my ex in behavior toward his wife and daughters. Ugh. What a way to end a date.

Outside, the hopefully decent, yet impatient man, told me how much he enjoyed our date and how attractive I am. Did I say anything about his being impatient? I meant to say that he is perceptive. And he asked if I would like to go out for dinner on Friday. Sounds nice to me.