By now, we all know that I date fairly regularly. I would never label myself a “serial dater.” I’m not out there dating just to date. I’m actually looking for that one person to grow old with. I don’t even particularly like dating, although once in a while I find myself truly at ease with someone, enjoying my time so thoroughly that I look forward to spending more time with him. This isn’t one of those times.
I was on the phone with someone new a couple of weeks ago. We realized we were both free that evening and spontaneously decided to meet for dinner. He lived in Long Beach, but offered to drive up and meet me at BJ’s. I’ve learned not to offer specific driving directions to men. The usual response to my offer has been, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it.” So I didn’t offer and he didn’t ask. He said he’d have his cell phone with him in case he got lost, and MapQuest said drive time would be 1 hour and 15 minutes.
The phone conversation was painful at best. I was hoping that he would be livelier in person as some people just don’t like the phone. We decided to meet at 7 p.m. It was a work night for me and I explained that I had to leave by 9 p.m. because I wake up so stinkin’ early in the mornings. He assured me that it was no problem.
Around 6:40 p.m. he called to say that traffic was so awful he’d only traveled a few miles since he left (which turned out to be later than MapQuest would have allowed). So I told him to call me when he got off the freeway and I’d meet him at the restaurant. I called him twice during the next hour to gauge his position, but he didn’t answer. His phone had been on vibrate and he didn’t own a Bluetooth, so he couldn’t call me until he got to the parking structure to tell me he was there, just before 8 p.m. Still, I drove over and met him outside of BJ’s. By the time we were seated and served, it was 8:30 p.m. I ordered an appetizer due to the limited time, but he ordered a full meal. Before we knew it, it was just after 9:00 p.m. My pumpkin was waiting with not a minute to spare. I told him that I felt badly about having to leave. No problem, he said. He would finish his dinner and gladly pay the tab, but could I wait just 10 minutes more? There was so much food on his plate! After five minutes I noted that he really wouldn’t be done any time soon and told him that I hated to make him scarf it all down in a hurry. He agreed, and asked for… the check? A Doggie bag? Nope. He asked for another half an hour.
What would you have done?
Write to Julie: writelove@sbcglobal.net