She is sitting at the bar in her sexy new dress, waiting and furtively glancing at the door. He walks in. Her heart sinks. He’s as she remembers him from their first date – tall, a little dorky with an uneven goatee. “Do guys still wear goatees?” she wonders. All of the parts are there – tall, dark hair, glasses and an artist – but somehow they don’t fit together in a way that makes her heart flutter. They sit down for dinner and, as he stares at her blankly, she tries to think of something to say. “What did you do today?” she asks. Blah…blah…blah is what she hears. How could someone so creative be so dull, boring and monotone? She tries to get a bottle of wine as quickly as possible to numb herself. She gently leads him towards a good bottle. He orders ravioli and she, gnocchi. He’s never heard of or seen gnocchi before. She doesn’t want to be a food snob, really, but she is stunned that he’s never even HEARD of the Italian dumplings before tonight. After dinner, he asks her to join him for drinks. She wants to make her get-away, but thinks it would be rude to dine and dash. He is a gentleman…a perfect gentleman…a perfect boring gentleman…a perfect boring one-note gentleman…a perfect boring one-note gentleman with absolutely nothing in common with her. She tried – and it was a resounding failure. She misses her old life, with the man that she loved.
Hi D,
I just got your message from last night. I didn’t hear my phone ring. Thank you again for Saturday evening. You are a true gentleman. After going out twice, I’m sorry to say that I don’t feel there’s enough of a connection between us to take this into anything romantic. I’m not feeling the chemistry that needs to be there. Good luck with your search (and your upcoming shows).
Take Care,
Phoren