This date is one I sometimes I wish I had back. At times I wish I’d accepted his invitation to further explore our connection. He’s brilliant, a mechanical engineer returning to law school when bored of engineering. Entertaining stories of long-ago shenanigans with the DoD were lively and fun. Alas, I was newly divorced and timing is everything. This was not the time.
Dinner is lovely and entertaining. With his Texas drawl, our naïve waiter didn’t particularly respect this man, pure ignorance on the part of our waiter. I watched, listened, and learned. My date is a perfect gentleman to the waiter, ignoring slights. His humility and intelligence have served him well throughout life I’m quite sure. I never witnessed an ounce of hubris.
Dear date questions my return to school, why. Well, dear date I need to make a livable wage and the best way to accomplish this is to educate myself, get a degree. “Hell Debbie, I’ll buy you a degree; throw enough money at something and it can be bought.” I threw my head back and laughed out loud. I’ve no doubt this is true. Dear date, I like learning and I found out later in life I am quite capable of learning. Besides, your suggestion is dishonest and even if you and I were the only one to know of such dishonesty, I could never live with knowing I didn’t earn my education.
After dinner we played pool. To understand this story, you need to know I am a pool nerd. I hit the balls off the table. I suck. I was not looking forward to playing pool. My friends encourage me, "Debbie, it's to have fun. It's not serious." Okay. I decided to let my vulnerability hang out from every seam. I had the best darn time. I'm ambidextrous, my teacher is terrific, and I found my groove. A hell of a teacher, he knew exactly what I needed to hear to make any given shot, and he expertly, patiently, taught me. I'm not ready to hustle anyone just yet, but my kids may find me at the pool hall when I’m 95.
Our next date he picked me up on a Harley. I hear rumbling outside, look out a window, low and behold stud is walking up to my place. Oh dear. Not warning me in advance, I’m wearing three-inch heels, nice top, and slacks, a little too dressy.
“I’m over-dressed perhaps?”
“Maybe a little,” he replies.
Changing my dress shirt for a t-shirt, sliding on a pair of jeans, keeping the high heeled boots, we are on our way — to a biker bar. I’ve never had more fun. Our ride was splendid, air brimming with fragrance of fresh cut grass and cooling breeze as we scoot down the highway on a hot summer Texas day. He is the most excellent company.
This man is one I let get away, a beautiful mind, and a splendid soul.
Every new experience I've embraced, finally.
It IS fun.
My life is full and satisfying as it should be. Yours should be as well, remember this.
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