She knew it was all over when she saw the little droplets of her saliva cascading down her chest, sparkling on her black cashmere sweater like a 50s Czech bead appliqué. She'd thus far successfully hidden or stifled her yawns, but this time there was no escape -- she'd gleeked when she yawned. At first she thought she'd only decorated her hand with the evidence of her boredom, but she was horrified when she glanced down to covertly aim her wet hand towards her napkin -- she saw the incontrovertible truth of her disinterest on her sweater.
The game was up. The date was over.
She could have predicted this outcome at the very beginning of the date, when she shook his hand in greeting. She preferred a man's hands to be warm and dry, a little rough; she could forgive hot and sweaty and might even find that flattering, but this man's hands were beyond redemption. Cold and clammy didn't cut it. It was more as though a labrador had coated every surface of his hands with gritty drool and then he'd thrust his hands into the icebox for a half hour. Not good.
And the conversation? Oh, she'd thought him witty enough as they'd waited to get their cars serviced the previous morning, but that humor had since dried up. Perhaps his conversation skills were only fresh in the morning? Unfortunately, hers were sharpest in the evening. And though she knew she was particularly ebullient and endearing that evening (unfortunately, her scintillating bon mots were too difficult to recall when she'd write in her blog later), she had, in all fairness, given him ample chance to shine. After the salad course, it became clear she'd have to keep her self amused for the rest of the meal and launched into an impressive string of reassuingly typical-but-not-trite topics that he could pick up if he'd only use half the brain he'd seemed to have when they first met. Alas, it was not to be.
"I'd love to move someplace where it rains more than it does here -- enough to relieve any guilty feelings I have when I indulge in some healthy melancholy."
"I like the sun. It's nice and warm."
Enough said. Check, no mate.
2 comments:
egad.
i would really love it if this wasn't the story i hear from the vast majority of my single (and ebullient. and endearing.) lady friends after a first date. makes me want to throw a big Spinster Shower so we can all sit around knitting, grumbling and drinking JD straight from the bottle about it. b.y.o.cat.
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