Journal, Diary, & Blogging / Online Dating
Jennifer was a classic blonde, she warned me of that. I was nervous, more so than usual. She even had nails.
We had met online 6 months prior, had chatted, volleyed a few honest and autobiographical emails, and even exchanged text messages before she decided to become exclusively involved with another man. On one particular evening several months later I apparently sent an email that said, “Are you single yet?” The reply came nearly a month later. She was, although a bit heartbroken. This prompted a second round of email exchanges, and some text messaging that led to The Phone Call. We agreed to meet for coffee, but she ultimately canceled our date, still unsettled by the residual malaise of the recent past. I took it in stride, and ultimately respected the decision.
In the weeks that followed we continued our phone conversations, and I patiently waited for her to re-engage me and set another date. She did. We were to meet at a Starbucks at 3pm on a busy Saturday in a tourist town, and then hit a location less commercial. I felt like hell, but simply did not want to cancel on her. It didn’t seem fair, to either one of us.
I saw her before she saw me. She crossed the street, entered the Starbucks, and sent me a text message that said, “I’m here. Beat u!” Prepared for The Greeting, I entered the Starbucks to find her standing conspicuously in line for the bathroom. She spotted me, and without missing a beat, unloaded the classic look of someone in plain view trying not to be noticed, rolling her eyes up toward the ceiling and copping a fake whistle. I produced the obligatory but distant hug, not wanting to interfere with nature. I was flashed by the intensity and sharpness of her eyes. The rest of her features informed them, and yet they remained separate, producing an affect that was nearly surreal. This was Jennifer.
I waited outside for her to do her business.
I sat down on the step near the busy street and was quickly surrounded by 3 children and their father. As kids do, they sat down wherever, and surrounded me. Jennifer emerged and saw me sitting in the midst of children, which clearly amused her. The image, I’m sure, was slightly symbolic of my profession and no doubt noteworthy to a mother of two.
We settled on the outdoor patio of a tourist/biker bar, and ordered two beers while waiting for a table. Her wry and sardonic wit complemented mine as we struggled to find a conversation groove in the chaos of the busy bar and street. We were finally seated in the shade, and the breeze was perfect.
As expected, the conversation was choppy at first, and yet comfortable. I struggled to isolate her tenor voice from the background noise, and hoped that the chaotic environment would not impact our chemistry. We touched upon an odd array of topics such as estranged family members, couples that seem to mysteriously resemble one another, gay friends, photography, her children, parenting, and the Rejection Hotline. The conversation was lighthearted, and open to non-sequiters, which seemed to suit both of us. She was an attentive listener, and a comfortable and articulate speaker. Her conversation style had a refreshing taste of carefree and honest realism, as if she were saying, “This is me, take it or leave it.” This worked for me, because I had the same style. I think she felt comfortable, and probably relieved that I wasn’t trying to put on a show.
She did not realize the difficulty I was having in hearing her, and made her appreciation known when I finally told her. Too many times a dynamic is interrupted by background noise, and I find that the quieter the location the better. This is often easier said than done.
After about 3 hours, she announced that her meter was to expire, and decided to end the date. As we walked, she apologized for cutting it short, but I was satisfied—small steps, for both of us. She added that it wasn’t like we had planned a wild naked overnight romp anyway, a curious addition to the conversation that served to distract me for several paces. As we walked she seemed to open up more, and a new sensitivity seemed to emerge between us. The walk was not magical, it would be too early for that, but it was something. She explained that although some people do not translate well from online to real life, I was a pleasant surprise. I returned the compliment. We engaged in the standard nervous physical antics prior to departure, and eventually settled into a hug. She pressed herself against me, but slightly, and I pulled her with one arm against me, with a touch of sensual force. Her cheek almost touched mine. For a split second I felt beautiful anticipation and a romantic tension. She told me to call her. I told her to call me, as she was the one taking it slow. I explained my willingness to be patient, and left her to drive away. She pulled out, passed me and disappeared down the street. I turned to walk home, and wondered how she felt.
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This 129 word review has not been unlocked.
The writing itself is good enough but to be honest I’m finding the story a little bland. There isn’t much of a hook to keep me reading.
The first line seems out of place with the rest of the piece. There are no more references to her blondness or her nails.
The ending fell flat. He wondered how she felt? There are so many things he can be thinking about that would be much more interesting.
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