So I arrived at Applebee's for my first date with George. I was right on time. I got out of the car and realized I had no idea what he looked like or even what he would be wearing. I supposed, I would just have to go in and see if there was a man in there that was looking for some yet unknown-to-him woman. I guessed I could always text or call him and see who answered his phone.
I noted that there was only one person waiting for a table when I walk into the lobby area. So when I went in and the hostess asked me about being seated, I explain that I was supposed to meet a gentleman here and I didn't know if he was here yet or not. The only gentleman in the lobby got up, came over and asked if I was "The Widow" and introduced himself as George. We shook hands which felt very awkward, like we are about to have a business meeting, but it all happened so quickly. The hostess began her movement toward the dining area and we quickly followed.
So this was my date. My FIRST date. Later, it occurred on me that his date would not be momentous because it was my first date with George (sorry about that George), but it was significant to me because it was my first time going on a date with a stranger in more than 20 years. Ironically, this memorable event was occurring in the most common and ordinary of places. Applebee's. As I was walking to my seat it hit me. How....unreal....surreal this moment was. Could this really be happening?
I pulled myself back into the present where I was on my first date with George. I quickly sized him up physically. He couldn't possibly be 5'9'. I am only 5'5" plus my 2 inch heels made me as tall as him. Hummmm, somehow the math doesn't add up. [I have since learned that in the same way that women fib about their true weight--shaving off a few pounds--men generally add a few inches to their height. Just an FYI for you ladies looking for a gentleman of a particular height.] He did have hair, as I requested, albeit not much. But there was hair on top.
As soon as we sat down and ordered our drinks, the conversation began to flow. He was a great communicator. Sharing about himself. Asking about me. Listening. Talking. I quickly realized that we only had a very few things in common. Most of the things we did have in common had to do with our church, mission's interest and spiritual growth. All very positive things to have in common, but certainly not the only things necessary for a marriage partnership.
It became very apparent the interests he was hoping his future wife would share with him involved being outdoors together. Not really just being outside, but doing activity outdoors. Cycling, camping, hiking, running, etc, etc, other outdoor activities that involve exertion. Anyone who knows me for even a few minutes knows that the day Gillette came out with their famous slogan in 1984, they simultaneously bestowed upon me my motto for life: "Never let them see you sweat!" While Gillette's solution was to use their antiperspirant Dry Idea, my answer has always remained--just don't do anything that would cause you to sweat in the first place!
Other noteworthy differences included the following. He liked the mountains for vacation. I like the beach. He liked the West Coast. I like the East. He loved living in a colder climate. I want to retire somewhere hot. [Ok, for all you who think this does not reconcile with the "sweat" motto. Let me explain. Being in a hot climate forces you to stay indoors where you can enjoy the pleasures of reading, movies, shopping, internet, etc. If one DOES find themselves outside they will quickly find water (pool/beach) to cool off--in which case, no one CAN see you sweat because you are wet. It works. Trust me, it's the motto I live by. I've perfected it.] His schedule was such that he was busy on the days I was off and off on the days I had activities. It was apparent he really only tolerated his job, whereas I am enamored with my career and appreciate others who feel the same.
As our date was coming to an end, it became apparent that we were not a good match at all. I will say we gave it our best effort and time (2 hours) to find some things in common, but alas, it was obvious we were mostly on opposite ends of the spectrum.
One thing I did discover on this first date, but would not realize until multiple first dates later, was that every first date seems to harbor a curiosity about the circumstances of my late husband's death, while also fearing they will upset me by talking/asking about it. So now, I usually say early in the conversation (when it seems appropriate) that I don't mind questions about him or his death at any time they want to know. It seems to ease the tension that I feel they have about tip-toeing around the subject for fear I might cry (which I suspect would be a gentleman's worst nightmare-come-true for a first date). And as an aside, I made sure I was past "crying at the drop of a hat" before I even started dating to begin with.
Even though I thought I was keeping my nervous feelings under control, apparently I was not.
Surprise hit me when George asked me if this was my first date. Was it THAT obvious? Wow. I thought I was a tab bit better at hiding my jitters. Then he said the matchmaker service seems to match him with women on their first date with the service. He thought it was because people gave him a good report about how easy he was to talk to and someone "safe." So...maybe he really didn't notice how nervous I was. Maybe I can just keep believing it was only a lucky guess on his part. Do you mind?
So the date ended. We walked out of the restaurant and George stepped in for a hug/embrace. Actually twice. Hugging on the first date just seemed very strange to me. That was not the only time I have been caught off guard by this "custom." More surprisingly, most gentlemen have started the first date with a hug. It's not sensual. More like the kind of hug you would give someone of the opposite sex at church. Still, it just seems strange to me. Is this something new? If it is, how did gentleman my age figure it out while I am still clueless? Is it a Mid-Western way vs. a Southern way? All my dating prior to now was in the South. I have no other point of reference. [I do know there are some very distinctly different thoughts about how some common activities are completed between here and there, so this is not out of the realm of possibilities.]
To my relief, I survived my first date as a widow. It really wasn't that bad. I am thankful to God for so many positives of this dating experience. Thankfully, George was easy to talk to--no awkward silence, no babbling on and on. I am thankful there were enough things NOT in common that I wasn't confused about whether he might be a possibility or not. Thankfully, God is growing me in my dependance on Him day by day. Thankfully, He is teaching me more about Himself in the process.
Thankfully I didn't find "the one" on my first date, otherwise, I wouldn't have all these great stories/adventures to treasure and share. Oh give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, His love endures forever. Psalm 107:1NIV
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