Thursday, May 20, 2010

I Wiped My Mouth

Once again, I’ve got my eye on the prize. I am focused. My mother would say that I’m ‘on the prowl.’ I say that I am looking for the last great love of my life. I have begun to date again.

About a month ago the Wino, a wine importer, asked me to join him for a drink. I agreed to meet him and gave this date a quick twenty minutes – just long enough to sip a glass of wine and decide whether or not I wanted to meet again for a full-length date. The bar he selected was dark but homey. We had just enough time for him to tell me how wonderful he was and to regale me with his vast knowledge of wine. I was a bit concerned that I didn’t get a chance to really get a good look at him in the low light and then realized that the light was probably more than flattering for me.

There certainly wasn’t a spark, but as I ran out the door I agreed to meet him again for another date. The Wino diligently called and e-mailed for 3 weeks until I agreed to meet him at a museum. I had been on my feet all day, and arriving less than five minutes before the appointed time, plunked myself down on the bench in the entry letting out a deep sigh.

The Wino walked in and spotted me immediately. In this light he was clearly much of a much older vintage than he had claimed. He swaggered over and frowned.

“You were early,” he chided.

“I like to be on time.”

His face was a bit crooked and gnarly so I couldn’t be sure if he scowled, smirked or smiled before he darted into the crowd toward the entrance, expecting me to follow. He directed me through the museum pointing and lecturing as though I had never seen art before.

“You see, this is a painting.”

“Ah,” I cried.

“And this. This is called sculpture.”

"Ah,” I cried.

“Here we have a drawing.”

“Ah,” I cried.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes,” I cried.

As he led me out of the museum I thought briefly about cutting and running, but decided that at the very least the Wino could select a lovely glass of wine before I went home.

While he claimed to be just a couple of years older, I was sure that he was much older than I. The Wino ordered a couple of appetizers as he ordered our wine selection. Clearly he thought the date was going well.

By the time the date was over, I was bored out of my brain. He rambled on about God knows what and never once even pretended to listen to a word I had to say.

When we parted he kissed me and as the door to my cab closed, I involuntarily wiped my mouth. I don’t think I’ve done that since the Seventh Grade.

No more dates with the Wino for me.

I wiped my mouth!

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