I’ve placed personal ads on several websites. I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find many fine interesting men to chat with online, and maybe it’s because I’m the new kid on the block, but quite a few. Yesterday evening I had tea with Bachelor #1, a pudgy and sincere former Anchorman with a gypsy soul and a heart (as well as a ring with his initials) of gold. The Anchorman is a true romantic, with stubby fingers, thick wavy hair, hairy forearms, a mustache that fills the vast rectangle between his lip and nose and cheeks, a round belly, and a love of life and living. He’d be the chatty cab driver in a Quinn Martin production, the one who always seems to be there when needed. The only other people in the cafe were two girls with laptops who sat right behind us, mostly silent except for the clicking of their keyboards, and I’m sure focused on every word of our exchange. One of the girls had the highest-pitched voice that I’ve ever heard, like in a cartoon. I asked the Anchorman if he’d like to grab a bite, as we were having such a nice time chatting, and at the restaurant on the other end of town, there was the girl with the high pitched voice, sitting at the table right next to us. I asked her where she was going after dinner, to foresee where we’d be later on. Despite her prediction, the date ended with me being dropped off, a hug, a peck on the lips, and a “Sleepum tightums,” my honor still intact. Bachelor #1, the Anchorman, is easy, uncomplicated, sure of himself and a delight to be around–a nice Jewish boy from Jersey. No sparks flying, but it’d be nice to hang with him again.
Tales of Post-Twinkie Ennui