Tuesday, May 26, 2009

A Conversation - 15 Minute Date.

Trendy. Not too crowded. I sit by a nice fireplace, my hands in front of the warm heat. Lost in my own thoughts until I hear --

Friend: "Hey, this girl wants to talk to you."
I sigh to myself, liking the alone time and not wanting to meet another L.A. chick. They're all the same it seems. But, I turn around, out of curiosity and hope. Maybe she'll be different.
Me: "Cool. Where is she?"
Woman: "I'm right here."
I look over at the bar where she sits in a relaxed position. A cute Woman with short shorts and nice eyes. Hmm...yeah, I'm curious now. Plus, the fireplace ain't going no where. I walk toward her in my slow, easy going stride. Let's see what she's all about.
Me: "What can I do for ya?"
I smile one of those flirty smiles. The good kind, or so I hope. And she immediately gives me one back.
Woman: "I saw you over there looking great from behind. Praying you looked just as good from the front. You're so pretty."
I immediately go red, just like her drink. Compliments always throw me off. I'm still not used to 'em, even after losing all the weight.
Me: "Wow, thank you. Um..."
I don't know what to say, but I like the way she smells and the way she looks at me. Like Keira Knightley's character looks at James McAvoy in Atonement.
Woman: "Like you don't hear it all the time."
Me: "What's your name?"
Woman: "Sarah."
Even as she says it, I get the feeling that she isn't telling the truth.
Me: "Cool. So, what brings you here to LA?"
Woman: "Culinary school, but that's boring. I really like your style."
She takes a finger, and seductively rubs it up and down my black tie. Even the Obama button on my jacket sneaks a peak.
Me: "Oh, thanks. So, uh, how do you like the school?"
Why is she so determined not to let me get to know her?
Woman: "It's nice. Are you single or what? Probably not, eh?"
She's beginning to annoy me, but I like the way her lips look. Soft.
Me: "Yes, I am."
Woman: "I don't believe you, but okay."
I can feel it. The more she talks the more I get bored. What is it about her that seems false? That seems like she's from a book. Like if I turned around, she'd be gone...almost like a dream.
Woman: "So, how are you getting home? I can take you back.
One night stand. I'll pass. I like the way my sheets feel at night, not a stranger's.
Me: "No, thanks, I have a ride home."
My eyes start to close, telling me "hey, we're tired!" I think she can sense this --
Woman: "Take my number then before you jet out...even though you'll probably lose it."
Assumptions. Gotta love 'em.
Me: "You do know that you don't know me, right?"
She laughs, liking the directness. Or, liking the playful flirtation. Who knows.
Woman: "True, but I'd like to. Call me, please. When you get home. So I know you made it without crashing into anything."
Me: "...of course. Seeya."
As a woman of my word, I know I'll pick up my phone and call. But, part of me can't help but feel like I wasted my time talking to her. Like she doesn't really exist. Or, maybe she had a bad night with her husband and needed to smile at somebody. Hard.
Woman: "Bye."
I leave with my friends who yell at me for not staying with her. "That was guaranteed coochie." Yeah, but I don't know her. She could be a serial killer for all I know and only prey on milk chocolate ladies.

Fast forward 20 minutes -- I call her. Ring, ring, ring. No answer. And people wonder why it's hard to date in this town. I should have stayed in front of the fireplace where it was warm and safe.

This is a prime example of why it's tough to date in this city and abroad; you meet someone who talks a lot of game but doesn't know how to back it up, or answer the phone. Or, it feels like they're hiding something...like a husband or a wife. This is critical information that should be shared to peeps who are romantically interested in you...right? I can't tell you how many 15 minute dates I've been on where I know within that time frame, it ain't happening.

She was cute. Like, I'd buy her a meal and dessert cute. But, in my heart, I didn't feel like she was genuine. I couldn't allow my black ass to go in her car and just pray she doesn't do anything crazy. My intuition was like, "ruuuuun awaaay now!" Yeah, I get it, you're probably thinking, "lezzie, you don't even know her that well. Aren't you being hypocritical?" This may be a good point, but I'll say this --

When there's a strong connection with someone, we feel it right away. We know it in a few seconds. I knew by the way my heart didn't skip a beat, or by the way my knees didn't go weak that there was no connection. The easy part, for me, is taking the number and calling. The hard part is when they pick up and they're there, always there listening to every word I say.

Yeah, that's when my heart skips a beat.


Anonymous said...

Ahh the dance, peacock feathers. Knowing the difference between someone who is trying to "bust a move" and "dancing like no-one is watching" is a skill be glad you are sharpening yours.

mc_cool said...

silly silly la women...