Gabby

 

"Be gentle," I asked her. "This is my first date in over a decade."

"I will," she said reassuringly. "We're going to have a good time."

Gabby was my first date since getting into the world of online dating. After we matched we chatted it up a bit. She was a short, curvy, brunette with big dark eyes and a beautiful smile. She made sure I knew she was hispanic, but grew up in the DFW area all her life.

She gave me her number and I called.

"I should've faked a hispanic accent," she said after we exchanged greetings.

"That would've been hilarious," I replied.

I explained that I was new to the dating scene in Dallas and this is my first real stab at doing this online. She rattled off some horror stories, then I found myself in a 40 minute conversation about ghosting. Gabby explained to me that it was popular for uninterested parties to simply not return calls nor texts when they decide you're not a good idea. She made me promise to man up and tell her if I wasn't wanting another date, and she swore she'd do the same.

Interesting, I thought, but I was in a new world where romance starts electronically rather than organically, but I paid it little mind. I vowed to be honest and would honor that.

"We were on the phone for 2 hours. I could've talked to you all night," was a text she sent me after we said our goodnights on the phone. I admitted I could've done the same, but sadly sleep was in order. We made plans to eat some sushi and see where the night takes us.

I arrived a bit early and nerves started to set in. It was my first date in a long while, but I quickly relaxed knowing that she seemed really into me and was very interested in learning more about my kids and their situation. I ordered a martini and waited at the unusually empty restaurant. There was seriously more staff than customers, each making sure they made their presence known at regular intervals while I sipped my drink. Then she arrived.

She was even prettier in person, but she was the spitting image of a good friend of mine. It was eerily similar, but I quickly shrugged it off and we gave each other a hug. We sat and ordered; she was well versed in the cuisine. We had fun getting to know each other, laughing and sharing rolls. I felt good sitting with this pretty girl and sharing thoughts and food. Dinner came to a close and we both agreed that we weren't ready for the night to end.

"Ice cream?" she asked. "I know of a good ice cream shop near here."

You know it was a nice evening, and ice cream did sound good. We went to a small shop that I never knew existed, sat outside sharing our dessert, and continued the friendly banter. She did say she that she sees us meeting in the area a lot, so I took that as a good sign that she's already thinking we'll be dating for a while.

We then went to a favorite pub of mine and had some more drinks. She was a bit playful as we threw fake punches and ribbed a bit. It was fun, and I hadn't had that much fun with a woman in so long. As we sat in the bar, smiling and laughing I felt something. Confidence, knowing that I could offer a girl a good time. Maybe I can make someone happy, even if it's in small way. I wasn't completely worthless, unattractive. I had qualities that a girl could appreciate.

We said our goodbyes, but I didn't go for a kiss. We already had plans for a second date, so maybe there would be some smooching.

To be continued...

“Sometimes it takes a heartbreak to shake us awake & help us see we are worth so much more than we're settling for.” ― Mandy Hale

Melissa

 

It's been way too long since I've updated this blog, and it's doubtful any of my old regulars even check this anymore, but a friend/colleague of mine find ourselves in similar personal situations which inspired me to put pen to parchment. 

I'm divorced officially now and am navigating the waters of the DFW dating scene, which has been surreal. I'll post about the end of my marriage at some point, but for now let's take a journey to my first romantic interlude, a girl named Melissa.

"Holy shit," said Corey. "That girl in the gray tank top has nice tits."

My best friend is what you call a breast man, and I'm no exception, so I naturally turned to look, but found the object of his desire had her back turned. Still a nice view I thought, but I focused my attention back on Corey and continued our conversation.

It was my birthday, my first since my ex and I separated. My friends were kind enough to throw a get together at my favorite watering hole, an Irish pub. The party dwindled to just my best friend and I, him drinking his fruity liquor concoction and I on my 8th or 9th Guiness. As sad as I was knowing that my family wouldn't be there to enjoy the festivities, I was truly grateful for the love and support of friends.

The pub has your typical decor of an Irish pub, with dark colored paint and hints of green surrounding the fancy bar top. Naturally, they had adorned a dartboard that was flanked with chalkboards of their latest specials and current list of what's on tap. There is little that makes it stand out from other bars like it, other than its splendid location in the quaint downtown, where piped in music filled the night air and people spontaneously danced in the sitting area outside. 

Corey and I made our way outside and I saw him off to his Uber, a wise decision considering how much we consumed. I took a last puff of my cigar and went back into the bar to square up.

As I leaned there trying to get the attention of the staff, a flock of people who I briefly met earlier gathered around me making conversation. We made small talk as I locked eyes with a beautiful young lady who introduced herself as Melissa. She was short, curvy brunette with big doe eyes and a sweet smile.

"Mother of God," I thought. "This is the girl Corey was raving about." 

She asked me the usual questions, name, occupation, age, relationship status, etc. and I in turn asked the same. She was a professional burlesque dancer which came as of no shock given her figure and demeanor, but I am largely unfamiliar with the craft. I was enjoying her company though for reasons other than just how she was easy on the eyes.

Melissa was a bit young for me at the tender age of 31, but she was friendly, cool, and seemed mature. We spoke amongst the others who were trying to make fast friends with me. As I was placing my signature on the slip she grabbed my arm and held a firm grip. 

"Do you want to come party with us?" she asked with giving those puppy dog eyes.

"I don't know," I replied. "It's getting late."

"If we get bored we can hang at my place."

"I'm in," I said without skipping a beat while I slapped my hand on the counter.

A group of us walked down the street to a nearby apartment complex. I was the only one who didn't have a history with any of these people, and I wondered what I was going to walk into. Sizing the dudes up, I figured I was pretty safe, and the women, dear lord all of them were so pretty. As we entered the apartment, I was offered more beer, which I gladly accepted. Then they brought out the cocaine.

Oh dear. These youngins are doing some hard drugs, and I was clearly the only one not into that scene. Not that I have a problem with people snorting uppers, it's just not what I do. I'm a drinking man, and that's about it. I felt a little lonely being the odd man out, but Melissa made sure I always had her company, and I was grateful.

"Wanna head to my place?" she asked.

"Um, let me think about it," I replied. "Yes."

We Ubered to her home, a nice dwelling, clean and well decorated. We chatted a bit and sipped some cocktails she made. And then, well you know.

"It's getting late," she said as she lifted her head off my chest.

"What time is it?" I asked as I reached for my phone. Holy hell it was 7am. It was 2:30a when we left the party.

We said our goodbyes and I called my Uber. As I left I wondered if I should call her, and while I did enjoy my time for obvious reasons, I really had no intellectual connection with someone 15 years my junior with no shared interests, well we did have one thing in common. Oh yes we did.

I was standing outside awaiting my ride home. I turned to see her in the front window smiling at me. She blew me a kiss, and I air grabbed it. 

As I pulled myself out of bed at 4pm I see my phone with numerous missed calls and texts from my ex. I call her and she inquires to my whereabouts. I was honest and explained in less than honest detail about last night's activities. She seemed happy and decided since I was with a female it would be a splendid time to tell me she was dating some exclusively. 

"Why are you waiting to tell me this now?" I asked, which seemed like a reasonable question.

"I didn't want to upset you," she replied.

"Why wouldn't I be..." I stopped myself. Told her I was happy for her and wished her the best with him. We ended the conversation, and a single tear shot down my cheek.

"I remember thinking cocaine was subtle until I noticed I'd been awake for three weeks and didn't know any of the naked people passed out around me." - P. J. O'Rourke