Dele is a 43-year-old tech executive. He says “I’m a jeans and T-shirt guy during the day, and a snappy dresser at night. I like clothes. I like to look nice on dates, especially. Effort is important.” Dele likes jazz, reading about and discussing politics, baseball — he says, “I hate hockey!” — going to movies, playing poker and going to comedy clubs. Dele studied as a chef and admits he is “a foodie.” Dele’s dating life “has been sporadic, because of my long work hours, and finding it hard to meet people who are single, attractive, age-appropriate — I’m not into much-younger women — and not bitter about relationships. I’ve always been looking for someone who is kind and relatively happy.”
I met Connie online when she messaged me on a dating site. We exchanged messages for about a week. I was definitely interested in meeting her and asked her to join me for a coffee, keeping it simple. I explained to her how to block her number on her phone before calling me so she would be more comfortable, knowing that a strange man didn’t have her number. She cancelled a couple of times before we actually met. I was pretty discouraged and assumed she didn’t want to meet me. We eventually made another plan and met in the morning over coffee on a Saturday.
She chose the location, a nice bakery I hadn’t been to before. It was one of those “raining one minute, windy grey the next” days that we’ve had all summer. I was feeling apprehensive before we met, because I’ve been on some crazy first dates. I was afraid of being judged for my appearance or my sense of humour. It’s happened many times before.
When Connie approached, I could see that she also had a familiar look in her eyes, of pure dating terror. However, my first impression after that was that she had a beautiful smile. It was disarming, actually. She looked great. More importantly, she looked exactly like her pictures. I was attracted to her and hoped that it was mutual. She was very clear from the get-go that she was only interested in serious, monogamous relationships. I agreed, but teased her for mentioning it so often. I told her my animal magnetism must have worked on her since she felt she needed to mention it over and over. I made her laugh. She laughed at all my inappropriate jokes, which is always a good sign. I definitely need someone who can put up with my eccentricities. The “emergency” call that Connie had set up with a friend in advance, giving her the option to leave, came and went. We were having a good time. The coffee shop was quiet and cosy, and smelled really good. We both pretended we didn’t want a second dessert with our coffee, and then ordered them anyway. Much chocolate ensued.
After we finished, we drove in her car to a park and went for a walk. The hours drifted by. Connie told me about her kids and how they are her main focus in life, and how that’s why she’s not interested in dating casually. I just listened for a long time, which made me feel relaxed and comfortable. There was no awkwardness or discomfort in the conversation at all, nothing I felt we had to deal with or overcome. We had a lot in common in terms of our families. I felt that I didn’t need to explain a lot; there were a lot of knowing “uh huhs” coming from both of us. I felt a warm glow expand inside of me.
Connie then suggested we go see a movie that I didn’t want to see. At first I said yes to the movie but no to her choice of movie, but of course we went to see it anyway. We held hands in the theatre and ended up kissing a couple of times. She insisted we see each other soon. I teased her some more.
I got a text from her right after I got home, thanking me for the date and for being a good guy. She told me she wanted to see me again in two days. I agreed. At a certain point in life, it just doesn’t take that long to know the “real thing” when it comes along.
The relationship is going strong. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months. I don’t feel so alone in my life anymore. We give each other support and a lot of hope for the future. I can still make her laugh.
Culled from https://www.thestar.com/