I have a date this Saturday.
I’m not sure really how this came to be, it’s all a bit confusing, really. One minute I was sitting there, sipping my sparkling wine, the next I was getting text messages and phone calls from a male nurse.
Ok so maybe I do know how this happened but I’m still not really sure I’m all that happy about it.
My girlfriend N and I went out for lunch on Sunday. She insisted that I must catch a cab because she wanted to have a few glasses of vino and didn’t want to drink alone. So at 12:45pm I was in said mad cab zooming down the freeway weaving in and out of traffic at 120km/hr -praying fervently that we don’t collide with the retirees out for their sunday drive doing 70km/hr-with ALL windows down (no Mr Cab driver, I know it may look like I spent at least a good 40 minutes doing my hair but please don’t feel obligated to offer to put the windows up – of course I didn’t really want my hair to look the same upon arrival to my destination- the crazy birds-nest look is SUCH an improvement!).
Anyway N wanted a few drinks because she was feeling a little fragile about the fact that Sunday would have been her fourth wedding anniversary, but instead she was in the process of filling out divorce papers. Understandably, the conversation centred around relationships and contemplating everything we are doing wrong. Only I don’t know if N is doing anything wrong- given she has not one but three men (including her soon to be ex-husband) all vying for her attention. In fact, if I could only figure out what it was she was doing, I wouldn’t mind walking a day or two in her shoes! Although at least 2 of the 3 are jerks so perhaps not. Besides, I do not possess her delicate beauty, so I guess I’m lost in that department.
Lunch having concluded and 3 very large glasses of riesling later, I was thinking it was time for me to head home and start sobering up before my 4:30am start on Monday. However, happily tipsy I cautiously agree when N suggests we to go to the pub for a drink in the beer garden before heading home. N buys a bottle of sparkling and we sit in the beer garden enjoying the sunshine and watching the Sunday patrons and discussing in detail the man in the light blue t-shirt who, in my opinion is the only good-looking man in the venue. N thinks he looks exactly like my ex-boyfriend, M. I disagree but concede there are some similarities.
In any case, the bottle ends and I suggest we go home. Unfortunately for me, N is determined to stay a little longer and goes to buy another drink. I watch her at the bar and sure enough- I see her purchase a bottle and as the bartender hands her two glasses she attempts to arrange them in the ice bucket but one is overbalanced and falls out of the bucket onto the bar. Then from out of nowhere, a man comes rushing to assist her (this in itself is not an uncommon occurrence), but he too has difficulty getting the glasses into the bucket and I see them exchange a few pleasantries before he turns and heads to our table with said bucket. He places the bucket on the table and then swivels on his heel to return to the bar where N is still in the process of paying, to talk to her. Here we go I think to myself, not only was I stuck there for at least another hour but I also now had to suffer awkwardly being a third wheel while this man attempts to woo N.
N invites him to sit at our table and he introduces himself as Scott. Scott is a nicely spoken, friendly man who I am surprised to discover has an uncanny resemblance to Steve, a man I dated about 2.5 years ago. In fact the resemblance was so strong both in his look, his mannerisms and his speech, that at first I thought he might be related (it would also cause me to refer to him as Steve later in the evening -oops).
Almost as soon as he sat down, and by some seemingly miraculous ESP or paranormal activity, N’s phone rang- it was her current boyfriend who was, I later found out, ringing to check up on her and make sure she wasnt talking to any men. Apparently he’s a bit of a control freak and though I have not met him, I already rate him somewhere between cockroaches and detritus. I have no time for jealous men who attempt to control everything their girlfriend does, while they apparently, are permitted to go out and do what they like, when they like.
For the next hour or so, N is on and off the phone which inevitably foils Scott’s plans at wooing chosen girl and we proceed to have a friendly chat to pass the time and avoid eavedropping on N’s phonecalls. Then as I get up to leave, announcing that I had to go home, he asks me for my number.
I am having a flashback to that movie, The Holiday where Arthur tells Iris she’s a ‘leading lady‘ behaving like the ‘best friend’. To which Iris responds “You’re so right, you’re supposed to be the leading lady of your own life for God’s sake!”.
Ok, so let it just be noted (and I think I have pointed this out previously) that the night I met my ex-fiance he was hitting on N (we’ve been friends a long time). The only reason he even got my number was because he got it off a mutual friend so that he could in turn get N’s details from me!
I know what you’re thinking and no- it wasn’t a ploy to just get my number. He admitted to me many years later that, in fact- it was N he had been attracted to that night (way to make your gal feel good! Is it something that men have to work at or just a natural skill for them to be able to lie to you at any time, except when you might actually prefer them to?!).
So, bearing in mind Scott’s first attempt at contact for the evening was to talk to N- I am admittedly, a little nonchalant about the prospect of seeing him again, nice though he was/is.
Is it too much to ask that when I get asked out by a man, it is not immediately preceded by him trying to hit on my unavailable friend/s? Am I being too fussy when I say that I want to be the one that my potential future date/partner singles out of the crowd as his first choice?
So, what do you say to someone who asks for your number when you don’t really think you want to give it to them?
In my case it would seem, just give them your number and hope they don’t call!
Only he did call…
…and now I’m having lunch on Saturday, even though I was in fact, his second choice.
It will be interesting to see how this develops- if it develops.
Had I been a true leading lady, I imagine he would not have been given this second chance…