Dan meets me at a hip, modern Italian restaurant at the end of the bar. I later find out he’s strategically placed because he’s partially deaf in one ear.
He looks exactly like his picture: tall, thin, handsome and WASP-y. I arrive seven minutes late because my Uber driver was slow and fiddling with his GPS.
We make pleasant conversation, but nothing requiring rapt attention. I’m not sure there’s chemistry. He’s 36 but drinks like a someone ten years younger- his glass is always full. I have three glasses of wine and try to come up with interesting conversation topics. Inevitably, we talk about online dating and swap horror stories. It’s about two hours into the date and Dan suggests we check out a fashion show in the local mall. I’m game.
The fashion show is amateur hour, but I help Dan pick out ties from a local designer. To his credit, the ties are pretty crisp and artistic. I poo-poo the all the pink ties. I hate pink. We decide on a few purple and red ties. I’m pretty sure Dan over pays. The “models” are dawning Lady Gaga-like pink hair and bright pink lipstick. They are stoic in cotton candy patterns- they look gaunt and miserable. The male models are wearing suits cut a little too high in the leg.
The last designer sends his models in all black leather, midriffs exposed, with sheer skirts. It screams the latest trends from Elle magazine but with all the trappings of cheap material.
We leave the fashion show- I’m not interested in buying clothes for outrageous prices that might rip in the ass. We head to a tapas bar and I order some delicious margaritas. In my drunken stupor, I talk about the pink elephant in the room, something we haven’t touched: that I’m a single mom.
He is surprised, but it’s clearly in my profile. Had he not seen it?
I end the date because I feel queasy. I’m not used to the alcohol. Dan invites me to his place (down the street) for a nightcap. I can’t stomach another. I want to go home, so I say no. I call an Uber and struggle into bed. I think he was generally interested until he learned I was a parent. I haven’t heard from him since. I didn’t feel the chemistry, so it’s all a wash.
And another one bites the dust…