Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Zoot Suit and all

I went on another date. I just keep trying. Odds are if I go out on enough dates I will finally find a decent man, right? I sure hope so. I have noticed that my dates are actually becoming less and less exciting. Not the actual dates but the locations, plans and even my outfits. I am afraid apathy has taken over. I am hoping to snap out of it. And soon. It is sad when I would prefer to put on my Pajamas, curl up in bed and watch reruns. I am hoping for that spark, that excitement when I see my date. I am hoping that I won't be thinking of all the stuff I have to get at the grocery store while pretending to listen to my date speak. I am hoping I am not home before 8pm when the date starts at 6:30pm. But not this time.

I met this man on Match.com. Mid 40's, two kids, sales job and Jewish. Looks good. He is bald but I really have never had a problem with that. We speak via email a couple of times and then he suggests we meet. I like the initiative. We agree to go for coffee. At a bookstore. Not my first choice but a safe choice at that. As the evening approached, and the wind howled I became less and less enthusiastic. I left the house wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. I have sunk to a new low.

I got to the bookstore and there he was. Wearing a Zoot suit. Ok, it probably wasn't a Zoo suit but it sure looked like it. Tan with pinstripes and about 47 times too large for him, the suit was a distracting. I couldn't stop staring at the shoulder pads rising above his head as he spoke to me. When he got up to get a napkin I was amazed at how the crotch of his pants skimmed his knees. It was so overwhelming that for the first ten minutes I heard nothing he said.

But then I refocused. What was he saying? He hates television. Oh, nail one in the coffin. I love television and I am not embarrassed to say so. He does though, pitch me an idea for a television show that would follow a bunch of medical supply sales people. I know you are wondering how he came up with such an amazing idea. Hold your breath. He sells medical supplies. He then goes on to explain exactly what he does on a day to day basis. Let me tell you, while selling medical supplies may be an honorable profession, it is not an exciting one that needs 30 minutes to break it down. I am easily distracted by the rising shoulder pads and tune out.

But the whole date something is bothering me beyond the zoot suit. Something is not right. It is as if an alarm is going off inside of me. Wait. I know that sound. It is my gaydar. It has been activated. And the alarm is sounding. This guy is gay. This guy is homosexual. I can feel it. I can smell it. I know it. I am on a date with a gay man in a zoot suit.

After an hour and a half I am done. The coffee is cold. I want to go home. I thank him for meeting me. He tells me he really enjoyed speaking with me. Yeah, yeah. Just let me out of here. He insists on walking me to my car. I hop in before he can get close. I shake his hand. I drive off. Quickly.

Once I get home I quickly throw on my pajamas and get in bed. Cozy and happy. I could have happily stayed home although I know I have to get out and date. But honestly, dating gay men in zoot suits can drive one to stay at home. But I will not give up. I will keep forging forward because after all I am 42 and single.

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