Blink Twice If You Need Help
Recently, I met a woman (okay, people, calm down).
It was all very casual at the outdoor vendor craft show hosted by my friend Maria’s art gallery in Flemington. There were about a dozen artists there. Some set up under tents, some in the open air. My friend Joe’s band (Raritan Creek) provided the soundtrack for the day.
I noticed two women sitting behind three tables filled with artwork. After a quick walk around, I made my way to their tables. After some small talk, I left, walked around, and made my way back to their tables.
(I’m seeing a pattern here.)
On the third lap around, there was just one woman and an open chair. She invited me to sit down.
We spoke for a few minutes. Before I knew it, those few minutes turned into two hours. At the end of the show, I helped load her artwork into her SUV. When she was about to leave, I said I enjoyed our conversation and asked if she would like to get together. She agreed, and we exchanged phone numbers.
For the sake of this post, let’s call her Happy (not her name, but definitely her disposition).
We made a date to have dinner in Somerville. We agreed I would pick her up at her house.
I cannot remember the last time I picked up a woman at her house for a first date. It was usually just, “See you there.”
A few nights later, I pulled into her driveway, turned off the car, and walked to her door. Before I got there, she stepped outside. We exchanged greetings. She looked beautiful in a beige leather jacket. We’ll get to how I looked later and why.
As she walked around to the passenger side, I followed her.
Surprised at first, she said, “Wait, why are you following…” Then she realized: “Oh, you are going to open my door.”
It was a chilly night, and Happy kept asking me if I was cold. I kept telling her I was fine.
Was I cold?
Of course I was cold.
Why was I cold?
Because I was wearing a black short-sleeved polo shirt and a pair of tan Dockers.
Why was I wearing that on such a chilly night?
Because outside of wearing a suit, I look my best in a black short-sleeved polo shirt and a pair of tan Dockers.
We had dinner at an Italian restaurant. Again, I loved that our conversation was never awkward or dull. We talked about family. I was surprised that her three daughters were basically the same ages as my three kids.
At one point, she looked at her watch and said, “Oh, no, I forgot to feed my dogs.”
For a split second, I thought, Is this one of those situations where a woman says something to get out of a bad or awkward date?
I found out later just how wrong I was.
Throughout the date, her cell would ping. To her credit, she would take a quick glance, then turn it face down on the table.
Eventually, she picked up her phone, laughed, and said, “I love my friends.”
Happy has an ongoing group text with three of her friends. When she told them she had a date with a man she’d just met, they were rightfully concerned.
They already had a code word they used with one another to indicate if anything was wrong. You know, like being on a bad date.
She then turned the phone toward me and started to read off the text messages. I don’t remember them exactly, but they went something like this:
Happy: He picked me up at my house.
Group: You let him come to your house???
Happy: Yes, he’s old school.
There were a few more texts I don’t remember, but two things jumped out.
Group: It’s always good to have a PI as a friend.
Yes, one of her friends is a private investigator.
And the second:
Group: See if he likes pineapple on his pizza.
Fortunately, that got a resounding no from everyone else, me included.
Happy then added:
Happy: You should read his blog, Conflict and Scotch.
(Thanks for the shout-out, Happy.)
The code word was nowhere to be found in the text string.
We finished dinner and walked around town for a bit. It wasn’t until we were almost to my car that I admitted that, yes, I was cold.
Happy has a circular driveway at her house. So when I say I drove her to her front door, my car was literally at her front door.
When my car stopped, Happy thanked me for dinner. She opened her door and stepped outside.
I could hear her hungry dogs welcome her arrival.
Before she unlocked the door, I rolled down the passenger-side window.
“Happy,” I said.
She turned and looked at me.
“Would you like to do this again?” I asked.
She took a step closer to me and, with a big smile on her face, said, “Absolutely.”
Then she went inside to feed her dogs.
Absolutely indeed.
