In the evening, between dates, I am sitting around my apartment doing nothing. The television is on but, I have it on mute. I like the noise and picture screen to give me company. For me, it kills the loneliness.
At some point I must drift off into sleep, only to be woken up by the phone. “Hello?” I ask. “Hey, Desi Girl, it’s Possible-Mate-from-Chicago, thought I’d check and see how things are,” he says. “Hey, how are you? Things are fine, thanks for asking,” I say and sit up, worried that my voice sounds sleepy. “It’s been a few weeks, I have been meaning to call,” he explains. “Not to worry, it’s been hectic since I came back,” I share. “How is New York?” he asks. “It’s great,” I reply. “You know, I have never been to New York? Lots of trips to Michigan, Iowa, Wisconsin and Indiana, but not New York,” he says. “You should come,” I say. “Okay, I’ll look into it,” he replies.
Then an awkward silence falls over us. I cannot tell if he meant to suggest a future meeting in New York. I am not sure if I should pull out my day planner and offer some weekends that work for my schedule and verbally “invite” him to New York?
“How’s your niece?” Possible-Mate-from-Chicago asks. “Oh, my God. She started walking! She was close when I was there and I am kinda sad I missed seeing it,” I share. ‘Well even if you were there, there is no guarantee that she would have done it while you were around,” he reminds. That is quite true.
“How’s your dad doing?” he asks. “He’s okay, still in the hospital for about another three weeks, then he goes home for home care. So my mom is having the bathroom handicapped and having a chair lift installed in the garage. It is so weird how all of his muscle basically atrophied under his skin,” I say. “Well, glad to hear this. Going home is a major improvement,” Possible-Mate-from-Chicago says.“What about you? What is new in Chi-town?” I ask. “Not much, working. Volleyball started, I captain two teams. Do you play sports?” he asks. This is very funny. With an aversion to balls and my manicured fingernails, I am as sporty/athletic as a can of Diet Coke. “No, sorry – not really. I like to work out, mostly spinning classes,” I share. “Hey that is cool, as long as you’re active,” he says. “Well, I just wanted to say hello, let me know what weekends may work. Would love to come out to New York,” he says. “Sure, will do – I’ll drop you an email tomorrow.”
It is possible - after all the cloak and dagger Manhattan-mambo dating – men who are too busy to date, men who only want sex, men who date eight women at one time, men who don’t want to commit, men who don’t have to commit – that dating can really be this easy? It is possible that Possible-Mate-from-Chicago can express interest openly and honestly?