Tuesday, December 1, 2009

I'm not falling for that "batting eyelashes" bit

It was a blind date. We met at one of my favorite restaurants, a place I frequent 2-3 times a week. Usually I'd steer clear of such a haunt, as it's not good to pollute a favorite hangout with bad vibes. But this dude was a vegan (SCORE in Texas!!!) and they have a good selection.

I got there early, but he had beat me. Drat. I had planned on informing the waitstaff that they should rescue me if I sent a distress signal, such as spilling my water.

Conversation was fair, but I soon realized that this man was far beyond the 37 years I had been told, as evidenced not only by his abundance of gray hair and wrinkles, but stories of being in his particular branch of law for the past 20 years. Huh. Didn't know one could be an environmental lawyer at age 17.

I found him interesting and a good listener, but that was about it. After chocolate cake, he offered to walk me home. This proved a problem: if I took him up on his offer, he'd want to come in. If I didn't, he could easily watch as I crossed the stress and into my building. I accepted his offer. At the door, he hugged me, and held me in that embrace far too long before pulling away slightly and starring into my eyes, cocking his head slightly to the side and batting his eyes.

And now's where I bring up that I'm 5'4" (5'7" in heels) and our eyes were right at the same height.

"I think I've found someone special," he said.

Oh crap. "Um, you're fun," I responded.

"I think you may be my soulmate," he said, and then kissed me.

I felt nothing except a growing against my leg.

"Um, I have to get up early tomorrow. I'll talk to you later," I said as I pulled away and started walking toward the door to usher him out.

"I'll be calling you. I can't wait to see you again."

"Um, okay. Drive safe."

He turned around and did that same head-to-the-side-batting-eyelash thing.

I shut and locked the door, closed the blinds and took a hot shower.

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