Beige & Other Colors
I had my second date with my local Match.com mate last night (our first date was a blind one over a month ago). His personality was just as beige the second time as it was on the first date (reasons he didn't warrant a blog entry), much like the generic Applebee's here in town. Wait, the local Applebee's is actually a hot spot...which is how this date with Mr. Beige turned out.
Over dinner we discussed why I had been so busy the last month and how just yesterday I finally got back into working out. I showed him my callouses to which he replied, "I use weightlifting gloves to protect my hands." He then switched the subject to basketball, hinting that when dinner was over we go to his place and watch a game. I thought, "Beige," can he hold a conversation about anything other than sports?
I dodged the suggestion and mentioned a book I've been reading about the geopolitical economic landscape of the 21st century and his eyes glazed over like I'd started speaking French. Then I thought to myself, "He's an electrician, but there's still a chance he's intelligent. Benefit of the doubt...that's how I was talked into this date by my new Brazilian friend...right?! Bring it down a level..." So I asked him if he'd heard about O.J. & his new book, IF I DID IT. "Oh I heard something about that but not enough to really know what it's about," he brainlessly replied. Okay, sports is how we get through this evening.
"So you won't watch basketball with me after dinner?" he inquired.
"Did I show you my callouses from working out today? I must've done a full 30 minutes with weights. I'm going to have to get some of those gloves you mentioned. Let's go to Walmart," I suggested. Yes! A safe post-dinner spot to encourage potentially intelligent conversation.
"Are you serious?" he asked. "Well, I want to get some Clear American flavored water too...wild cherry!" "Okay," he defeatedly replied.
As we went through the aisles of Walmart I commented, "So this is a scintillating Saturday night! Dinner at Applebee's followed by a trip to Walmart for weighlifting gloves and Clear American flavored water...and I'm the same girl who used to leave complimentary martini's in my own semi-private room at the Whiskey Blue in New Orleans, courtesy of complete strangers who were charmed by my captivating personality!"
"This is the culture you wanted though, right?" he asked, slightly confused. "Beige," I thought to myself, "it goes with everything...even sarcasm." "Yes it is," I said. "I wanted this for my son and my career, but not for my love life," I thought to myself.
"Here's the aisle for gloves," he pointed out. I shook off the longing feeling to be desirable again, remembering the pain that came from loving a jack@$$ passionately, and scanned the hooks for weighlifting gloves. "Here's a large," he said, impatiently handing a box of gloves to me. "Thanks," I said as I popped the box open, "but I better try them on. I have very small hands." He looked at me with a hint of skepticism. "Really!" I said. "Here, put on my abstinence ring and you'll see just how small my fingers are." I took off my pinkie ring (the only jewelry I wear consistently) and handed it to him.
"Abstinence ring?" he asked as he took it gingerly between his Neanderthal sized thumb & finger. "Yes, abstinence ring," I assured him. "So, as long as you're wearing it you don't have sex?" he asked, turning it over between his fingers like it might be the key to a treasure chest.
"Well, it's really a love ring. I got it when my grandmother died 5 years ago, which was shortly after I realized God love's me unconditionally and my body belongs to Him. The ring is just a reminder of His love for me, which at my best I can return to Him by not having sex outside of marriage. See, these gloves are too big," I said, handing them back to him with the box. "I guess I'll try medium." He looked at me with some concern that he might have been a little wrong.
"So you're not going to have sex until you're married?" he asked again, not quite getting the concept. "Now let's be realistic," I explained, "I'm going to buy weightlifting gloves tonight, but I'm trying them on first to make sure they fit. I'll likely have sex again before I marry, but I won't do it until I'm commited. The medium are too big too. Hand me a small pair please," I asked with a smug undertone. I slipped my hands into the small gloves as he put my pinkie ring on his pinkie. "How do they fit?" he asked. "Mmm, they're still a little loose around the palm, but they'll have to do," I said. I glanced at my pinkie ring which was barely a half centimeter onto his finger. "I told you I had small hands," I reiterated as I took off the gloves and motioned for my ring. "I think it's stuck," he tried to smartly reply. "Well I guess you'll have to be abstinent," I blocked.
We trotted off toward the checkout and I chatted on about my family & the upcoming holidays. I told him about this year's Merry Thanksmas holiday & how I'm getting the twins a couple of books including Goodnight Moon & Good Night, Gorilla. He'd never heard of the latter book, so I recounted the story (mostly for my own amusement). Being as beige as he is, the checkout woman was more interested in the book title & it's ending than he was. "What's the name of this book?" she asked. "Good Night, Gorilla. It's a children's book," I replied. "Oh!" she said as she clearly made a mental note of the title. "Thank you for shopping at Walmart!" she said as we made our way out of the checkout line. "So you're not going to watch basketball with me?" my beige companion asked.
Feeling giddy from my own cuteness and ability to retell a pre-school children's book story with enough animation to amuse the middle-aged checkout woman, I replied "Yes, I'll watch basketball with you...but only for a little while. I have to pick my son up from the middle school dance at 10:30."
We made our way around the corner to his place and settled on the loveseat. He scanned the tens of basketball games he'd TiVo'd, periodically glancing at me for an ok on one of them. I finally approved of the Heat vs. Hawks game and he seemed more at ease. I chatted about various things, showing him pictures in my digital camera to illustrate my stories. For every male he saw in a picture he commented, "so was that a hot date of yours?" It got annoying after a while and I switched the topic back to basketball. Noticing that I was cold, he offered to put his arm around me to warm me up.
"No, I'll be fine," I said. "But together we can warm each other," he said. He was cute (in a dumb sort of way) so I nestled into his arms. Not too much later, we were making out. We were in the middle of a pretty hot kiss when a text message alerted on my phone. "Whew! An escape!" I thought. "Now who would be texting me at this hour?" I said with relief. I pulled away from him and grabbed my phone. He read the message over my shoulder: "My dental plan pays 50% for Shorty's braces" - ex-husband/baby-daddy/half-child. "See!" I triumphantly said. "It's just my ex-husband!" Mr. Beige grabbed me and started kissing me again. I found myself overwhelmed at the feeling of being desirable. "His personality may be beige, but his kisses are red hot!" I thought to myself.
Before things got out of hand I exclaimed, "I have to go get my son from the Y in 10 minutes!" "But that's just a 4 minute drive," he said. "Not with the speeding ticket in my car," I replied (yes, as a bad driver I've already met my ticket quota in IA for this year). He continued kissing me in an attempt to delay me, which worked for 30 seconds. "I have to pick up my child!" I said again, more for my body than for him. "Child...yes, child! This is how that happened before! I have to go!" "Just one more kiss before you go," he asked. "Mmm, no," I said...thinking back 12 years and how "one more kiss" was how I ended up where I was...as a single mother on my way to pick up my 11 1/2 year old from the middle school dance at the local Y in IA instead of home to a quiet evening with an intelligent man.
Moral of the Second Blind Date: Beige can become an exciting color when you throw other things in the mix, much the way a red scarf can accentuate a beige dress. But when it comes down to it, you can't wear a red scarf alone in public, so you better be sure beige is the color you want.
Over dinner we discussed why I had been so busy the last month and how just yesterday I finally got back into working out. I showed him my callouses to which he replied, "I use weightlifting gloves to protect my hands." He then switched the subject to basketball, hinting that when dinner was over we go to his place and watch a game. I thought, "Beige," can he hold a conversation about anything other than sports?
I dodged the suggestion and mentioned a book I've been reading about the geopolitical economic landscape of the 21st century and his eyes glazed over like I'd started speaking French. Then I thought to myself, "He's an electrician, but there's still a chance he's intelligent. Benefit of the doubt...that's how I was talked into this date by my new Brazilian friend...right?! Bring it down a level..." So I asked him if he'd heard about O.J. & his new book, IF I DID IT. "Oh I heard something about that but not enough to really know what it's about," he brainlessly replied. Okay, sports is how we get through this evening.
"So you won't watch basketball with me after dinner?" he inquired.
"Did I show you my callouses from working out today? I must've done a full 30 minutes with weights. I'm going to have to get some of those gloves you mentioned. Let's go to Walmart," I suggested. Yes! A safe post-dinner spot to encourage potentially intelligent conversation.
"Are you serious?" he asked. "Well, I want to get some Clear American flavored water too...wild cherry!" "Okay," he defeatedly replied.
As we went through the aisles of Walmart I commented, "So this is a scintillating Saturday night! Dinner at Applebee's followed by a trip to Walmart for weighlifting gloves and Clear American flavored water...and I'm the same girl who used to leave complimentary martini's in my own semi-private room at the Whiskey Blue in New Orleans, courtesy of complete strangers who were charmed by my captivating personality!"
"This is the culture you wanted though, right?" he asked, slightly confused. "Beige," I thought to myself, "it goes with everything...even sarcasm." "Yes it is," I said. "I wanted this for my son and my career, but not for my love life," I thought to myself.
"Here's the aisle for gloves," he pointed out. I shook off the longing feeling to be desirable again, remembering the pain that came from loving a jack@$$ passionately, and scanned the hooks for weighlifting gloves. "Here's a large," he said, impatiently handing a box of gloves to me. "Thanks," I said as I popped the box open, "but I better try them on. I have very small hands." He looked at me with a hint of skepticism. "Really!" I said. "Here, put on my abstinence ring and you'll see just how small my fingers are." I took off my pinkie ring (the only jewelry I wear consistently) and handed it to him.
"Abstinence ring?" he asked as he took it gingerly between his Neanderthal sized thumb & finger. "Yes, abstinence ring," I assured him. "So, as long as you're wearing it you don't have sex?" he asked, turning it over between his fingers like it might be the key to a treasure chest.
"Well, it's really a love ring. I got it when my grandmother died 5 years ago, which was shortly after I realized God love's me unconditionally and my body belongs to Him. The ring is just a reminder of His love for me, which at my best I can return to Him by not having sex outside of marriage. See, these gloves are too big," I said, handing them back to him with the box. "I guess I'll try medium." He looked at me with some concern that he might have been a little wrong.
"So you're not going to have sex until you're married?" he asked again, not quite getting the concept. "Now let's be realistic," I explained, "I'm going to buy weightlifting gloves tonight, but I'm trying them on first to make sure they fit. I'll likely have sex again before I marry, but I won't do it until I'm commited. The medium are too big too. Hand me a small pair please," I asked with a smug undertone. I slipped my hands into the small gloves as he put my pinkie ring on his pinkie. "How do they fit?" he asked. "Mmm, they're still a little loose around the palm, but they'll have to do," I said. I glanced at my pinkie ring which was barely a half centimeter onto his finger. "I told you I had small hands," I reiterated as I took off the gloves and motioned for my ring. "I think it's stuck," he tried to smartly reply. "Well I guess you'll have to be abstinent," I blocked.
We trotted off toward the checkout and I chatted on about my family & the upcoming holidays. I told him about this year's Merry Thanksmas holiday & how I'm getting the twins a couple of books including Goodnight Moon & Good Night, Gorilla. He'd never heard of the latter book, so I recounted the story (mostly for my own amusement). Being as beige as he is, the checkout woman was more interested in the book title & it's ending than he was. "What's the name of this book?" she asked. "Good Night, Gorilla. It's a children's book," I replied. "Oh!" she said as she clearly made a mental note of the title. "Thank you for shopping at Walmart!" she said as we made our way out of the checkout line. "So you're not going to watch basketball with me?" my beige companion asked.
Feeling giddy from my own cuteness and ability to retell a pre-school children's book story with enough animation to amuse the middle-aged checkout woman, I replied "Yes, I'll watch basketball with you...but only for a little while. I have to pick my son up from the middle school dance at 10:30."
We made our way around the corner to his place and settled on the loveseat. He scanned the tens of basketball games he'd TiVo'd, periodically glancing at me for an ok on one of them. I finally approved of the Heat vs. Hawks game and he seemed more at ease. I chatted about various things, showing him pictures in my digital camera to illustrate my stories. For every male he saw in a picture he commented, "so was that a hot date of yours?" It got annoying after a while and I switched the topic back to basketball. Noticing that I was cold, he offered to put his arm around me to warm me up.
"No, I'll be fine," I said. "But together we can warm each other," he said. He was cute (in a dumb sort of way) so I nestled into his arms. Not too much later, we were making out. We were in the middle of a pretty hot kiss when a text message alerted on my phone. "Whew! An escape!" I thought. "Now who would be texting me at this hour?" I said with relief. I pulled away from him and grabbed my phone. He read the message over my shoulder: "My dental plan pays 50% for Shorty's braces" - ex-husband/baby-daddy/half-child. "See!" I triumphantly said. "It's just my ex-husband!" Mr. Beige grabbed me and started kissing me again. I found myself overwhelmed at the feeling of being desirable. "His personality may be beige, but his kisses are red hot!" I thought to myself.
Before things got out of hand I exclaimed, "I have to go get my son from the Y in 10 minutes!" "But that's just a 4 minute drive," he said. "Not with the speeding ticket in my car," I replied (yes, as a bad driver I've already met my ticket quota in IA for this year). He continued kissing me in an attempt to delay me, which worked for 30 seconds. "I have to pick up my child!" I said again, more for my body than for him. "Child...yes, child! This is how that happened before! I have to go!" "Just one more kiss before you go," he asked. "Mmm, no," I said...thinking back 12 years and how "one more kiss" was how I ended up where I was...as a single mother on my way to pick up my 11 1/2 year old from the middle school dance at the local Y in IA instead of home to a quiet evening with an intelligent man.
Moral of the Second Blind Date: Beige can become an exciting color when you throw other things in the mix, much the way a red scarf can accentuate a beige dress. But when it comes down to it, you can't wear a red scarf alone in public, so you better be sure beige is the color you want.
posted by N'j at 8:40 PM
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