Here is my fantasy:
I meet a man in my day to day life. We talk for a few minutes here and there. We finally decide, because the conversations are pretty good, that we should have coffee together. We have coffee or a drink together and the conversations get even better. He's interesting to me and I'm interesting to him.
We exchange phone numbers. He says he'll call on, say, Wednesday. He actually calls on Wednesday.
He asks me out to dinner.
Ahhh.
Dinner. At a decent restaurant, with a little ambiance. And why does he choose that kind of place? Because he wants to impress me just a little and wants the atmosphere to be congenial and pleasant.
We meet at the restaurant with a little ambiance. I wear a dress and my wonderful new high heels. Why? Because I'd like to impress him a little.
And while we're having dinner and another great conversation, we're both thinking how lucky we are to be there with each other. We're thinking about possibilities. We're actually entertaining hope.
After dinner, we go to our respective homes - kind of wishing that we weren't but not wanting to spoil things by rushing ahead.
Right. Pigs fly. And it's the era of internet dating. Besides, I keep mistaking frogs for princes.
Either KD had a slip of the tongue today or I had a slip of hearing but I thought she said, "Traumedy" describing a movie. I started to laugh. The perfect label for my so-called-love-life:
Romantic Traumedy.
Damn I'm tired of it.
**Some post after all this time, but hey - that's what's not so new.
12 comments:
You meet this guy at a friend's house. Next time, you meet some of his friends, and you like them. Or you take a class, and you talk, and he listens to you. One of your friends says he's nice, and you look good together. He stops by when you have a terrible cold, and still thinks you are interesting. You give him a ride when his car broke down, and it's 90°, and he's in a foul mood, but you still think him admirable.
Dates are advertising, and not to be trusted.
Gosh... I wish I could take credit for being very clever... either consciously or unconsciously. The truth is that I said the word deliberately and it is old media slang. The good news is that I have never heard of a Romantic Traumedy. When I typed it into Google, there were six hit and yours was the top one.
"Dates are advertising, and not to be trusted." Hey Zhoen.... I wish I said that.
Hmm. Glad to see it's not just us then.
Although the genital groups the other way round of course, and not dressed in the other's clothing.
Perhaps it'd be easier to shut up now before we dig an even bigger hole. Yes.
In my experience there are entirely too many frogs and not enough princes, and the few princes there are are usually married or live in Australia. But don't listen to me, I'm a big fat pessimist!
Ah, Zhoen. Those are the accidents of fate we all hope for but rarely get.
KD - I wish I'd said what Zhoen said too. Here in frog valley.
Mr. X, you are just too sweet for words and you make me laugh.
Kate - I don't have to listen to you, honey. I have the tape installed in my head by now.
**On an internet forum, someone started a thread "Are there any good men left?" and I responded, "
Three, exactly. I believe they live in Chicago, but no one will give their addresses." (Gentlemen, you may reverse the genders in the above if you wish. I know that women aren't the only people kissing frogs and finding they turn into...frogs.)
Don't go looking and then like a London bus, three will turn up at once and you can choose!
H, darlin'...
Several turned up at once. There was a big train wreck. And I'm still waiting for Zhoen's scenario.
The phrase "train wreck fascinating" comes to mind... ;)
Meet a man in your day to day life. He has interesting conversations. Ask him to help you lift a heavy chair into your van. Tranq him and drive home. Implant your Darkmind Brand Neurostim 3000, except where it says on the instructions to implant the nodes into the pain center of he brain, instead implant them into the pleasure center. Set the control distance to ten feet. Drive back, lay him out on the ground, and inject the tranq antidote. When they regain consciousness, act terribly frantic and tell them they hit thier head while helping you and you were so scared. They will say they are fine, because they feel so great. Of course they do. They feel great any time they are within ten feet of you. Soon this will cause a pavlov effect, and they will want to be with you all the time. Relationship problem solved. BTW, when you become bored with them, or they don't work out, the Neurostim 3000 comes with the "mild stroke" feature as the self destruct.
MD - Remind me to praise your sensitivity more often.
D - An excellent suggestion. Finally, someone with a practical solution. And intricate. You have to love it.
Well, I do, anyway. But there are questions about my sanity and disposition at times.
I'm just a sensitive New Age guy.
Or maybe not. ;)
I tend to get crankier as I get more overworked...
MD - Oh we all KNOW that you're a sensitive new age guy. As to the overwork thing? No comment. If I lip off about that, my computer may never work again.
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