I finally went on the second date. I canceled the previous second date out of complete apathy. But my mother kept reminding me that I need to give the Jewish Doctor a second chance. He could be nice. He could be funny. He could be my future husband. I kind of felt like it is when you taste something repulsive but then go back and taste it again just to confirm that you didn't like it the first time. What if I hadn't seasoned the bite correctly and this time was as sweeter taste. So I finally agreed to an evening dinner date. I even secured a babysitter which meant this outing was costing me money. It had better be worth it.
After a flurry of incomprehensible emails, we settled on a restaurant near me. I got there first and immediately started drinking. Then there was the Doctor. And he was still hunching. But I am going to look past that. He sat, we chatted and we ordered. We chatted about a variety of subjects and I started to feel that maybe my mother was right. I could hear her saying 'I told you so'. But soon he started bragging about his most recent bachelor purchase. I waited to hear about his giant television or his new fast car. But no. He began to lovingly describe his new recliner complete with double cup holders. In great detail he tells me how it is real leather, smooth and soft. He waxes on about how he loves to sit in it and watch television and how he sometimes has to fight his son to use it. Now some of you may say I being too picky but I have a hard time swallowing the idea that not only does a man own a recliner with double cup holders but said man then goes on and on about the recliner with double cup holders in a romantic fashion. Where was this date headed? I ordered another drink.
Our food arrived and we started discussing the idea of a family vacations and how hard it is as a single parent. The Doctor tells me he was thinking about taking his kids to Puerto Rico but he could not find a suitable hotel on the beach. Now I have recently been to Puerto Rico and personally saw plenty of beautiful hotels on the beach that would be perfect for family vacations. Before I can point this out, the Doctor stands up and takes off his jacket. He is wearing a white shirt and I am momentarily picturing him in a white wife beater sitting in his recliner with the double cup holders. I am back to reality. I tell the Doctor that I am pretty sure there are some good hotels in Puerto Rico. He replies that he is sure they are nice but as he was researching them, he noted on all the websites that the hotels point out that they welcome families, gays, lesbians and transgenders. I hold my breath waiting to hear what could possibly be wrong with this. The Doctor says he does not need to expose his kids to a bunch of transgenders walking around in bathing suits. Now really. Does he really think that a bunch of transgenders are going to descend en mass to Puerto Rico? And if they do, who cares? I look at him stunned and all I can see is the wife beater and the recliner with double cup holders.
And just when I think it can't get worse we begin to talk about raising kids. He tells me he has a funny story about when he was called into the Principal's office at his son's school. At fourteen years old, his son used his cell phone to snap a bunch of photos of fat girls butts as they bent over. He then shared these photos with his friends. I sucked in my breath waiting for the Doctor's reaction. He told me it was really hard to go into the Principal's office. The wife beater started to fade. When I asked him what was the hardest part about dealing with this he smiled and replied that it was really hard to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter with his son. He thought the whole event was funny. I looked up. The wife beater was back. And that was strike three. Check please.
On the drive home I wondered, is there is a normal man out there for me? I am starting to feel doubtful. Perhaps I am too picky. But honestly I could have looked past the recliner with double cup holders if beyond it wasn't a bigot with hunched shoulders. Although he has emailed me since, I will not go out with him again. I will move on and keep looking. Out there somewhere is a man for me. He too is going on a series of awful dates and culling through a series of horrible dating websites. And soon we will meet and this period in my life with be something I look back on as a time when I learned the meaning of patience and fortitude. I will carry on. After all I am 42 (yes 42) and single.