After carefully reading all of the responses, Maggie decided to reply to the 30 year old realtor submitted by his sister. The picture she sent was dark, it was kind of hard to tell what he looked like. She decided to give him a chance anyway. What is better than an endorsement from another woman, right?
His sister emailed back right away. Maggie sent her phone number so he could call and set up a date if he was interested.
He called an hour later. His voice was slightly higher pitched than she’d imagined. He seemed friendly and asked her a few questions about herself. After about fifteen minutes, they decided to pick a time and place to meet.
The two blind daters met up the next day at the Angelica Theatre. When Maggie approached the entrance, she saw someone waving to her and assumed that was him.
Realtor Guy sported curly, unkempt clay colored hair. He wore a loose blue short sleeve button-up with tragically un-hip denim. He looked nothing like his picture.
Luckily, Maggie had stopped expecting any guy she met online to look like his picture. The photos guys sent were either a. from ten years ago or b. from twenty pounds ago or c. a group picture with no indication of who was who or d. a random picture of a hot person that they stole and posted as their own.
He bought their tickets and they found seats near the back of the theatre. Movie pickings were slim, so they had settled on a cheesy horror film. They were there a few minutes before the previews started playing.
While she didn’t feel an instant ping of attraction, the conversation was easy.
“You’re sister mentioned that you were newly divorced, that must be hard,” Maggie said.
“It’s pretty awful, but I’m hanging in there. It was just finalized last week. My sister knew I was down about it, which is what prompted her to hunt down a date for me. What about you Maggie, you ever been married?” Realtor Guy asked.
“Me? Oh, no. I wish. I mean, well, haven’t found the right one I suppose, enter Craigslist,” Maggie said.
“Good for you, you’re young, why not enjoy your 20’s? I wish I had,” Realtor Guy said.
The theatre got dark and they both got quiet. Once the thirty minutes of soda commercials and violent previews began, she noticed that Realtor Guy grazed her knee. As the film progressed, he became increasingly more hands on. He grabbed her leg at every creepy turn. Every scary moment provided a groping opportunity. At first she thought the attention was nice, but then she began to feel like a plush toy.
This much touching seemed a little forward for a first date. She quickly categorized him as the quick to the bedroom type. Maggie was not a one night stand or sex on the first date kind of gal. Okay, maybe it happened once, but she’d learned her lesson. That type of rendezvous only lead her to feelings of attachment, love and ultimately heartbreak, when he never called back.
As the credits rolled, Maggie felt the sweet relief of a date about to near its end. When they walked out to the lobby, Realtor Guy insisted that they get a drink at the Pizzeria next door. She agreed, because she was afraid of first date confrontation. It was a red and white checked tablecloth kind of joint. It smelled like garlic and bleach.
Maggie ordered a glass of Pinot Noir, Realtor Guy ordered a large meat covered pizza and a light beer. His lanky frame, suggested either this was his first meal in days or he had the sort of metabolism that women like Maggie only dreamed of having. He asked if she minded if he ordered food, she said that was fine. As she hoped this experience would be brief, she just sipped her glass of wine and may have consumed the bulk of the bread in the basket. Noticing her bread binge, he offered her a piece of his pizza, she declined. She’d filled up on bread.
Much to Maggie’s surprise, this guy’s tentacles were tame at the restaurant. It might have been because they weren’t in the dark. He seemed focused on his food so there wasn’t too much talk either. This was fine with Maggie, she was kind of counting the minutes until the end of the date. She’d pencil him into the no match column.
After he finally finished his pizza, she’d never seen a man eat that gingerly, he paid the check. When a guy paid, it was always a nice touch. Maggie never took that for granted, because lots of guys were happy to go Dutch. Her fundage situation was always a bit tight, so she was grateful. Although, the downside was that when a guy she wasn’t attracted to, paid, she feared he’d have expectations of some kind.
Though she would have preferred to walk alone, Realtor Guy walked Maggie to her car. It was nice from a safety standpoint, but also filled her with dread. Please don’t try to kiss me, please don’t try to kiss me, she chanted silently in her head.
The mental chanting proved worthless. Predictably, once at her car, he circled her waist and moved his hands a bit under the back of her shirt. He pulled her close and briskly shoved his tongue into her mouth. Somehow her face became awash with spit, it was like frenching a St. Bernard.
Yuck, what the hell was that? she thought.
When she could finally draw air into her mouth again, Realtor Guy smiled like a Cheshire cat and said, “I liked kissing you.”
“Well, have a good night,” Maggie said. She quickly hopped in her car and shut the door abruptly.