A Weekend Date...

I hesitate over weekend dates. Weekend dates are more commitment than just weekday dates. But I agreed to a date tonight...Saturday night.

His name is Paul...40 years old. Moved recently to Utah. Trying to get to know the area. Impressed me with his few emails that had humor and wit to them. Also impressed me with his ability to ask me out, set a time and a place to meet. A level of maturity that had been lacking with other potential dates earlier in the week. Amazing.

So we met for a drink. Conversation was really great. He was interesting and funny. Not really a strain to keep it going. Reminded me of this professor I once dated. Not my typical guy, but something mysteriously intriguing about him. (the professor was dreamy...sigh).

So we decided to get a bite to eat. The night was progressing nicely. After dinner we walked for a bit and came to a place where we went in for another drink. I got tea and he settled on whiskey. Not all can hold their whiskey. In fact, I think it did him in, because from then on out he was uncensored and I...became his therapist.

omg. Too much information. You can't tell me that in all your 40 years you have never read articles on what not to discuss on a first date! He took me through both of his divorces, his mis-fit of a mother for a parent (who really didn't sound all that horrible), and his very stable and consistent relationship with his therapist.

What had seemed so promising turned so tragic within a very short amount of time. We left and he insisted on walking me to my car. I wasn't all that thrilled to be spending the extra time with him, but a little grateful solely because of the protection factor.

We got to my car and I assure you I was not giving any kind of vibe that would indicate that I am at all interested. But we'll blame it on the whiskey once again, because...he went in for a kiss! Completely shocked...he was actually able to land one on me. I have never been so disgusted. Pinned now against my car, I tried turning my face away. Which I'm pretty sure was interpreted as encouragement from me. Finally able to free my arms I pushed him away. This was all within seconds, but seconds that definitely felt like eternity. In the midst of me fumbling to get into my car, he said, "so we're good for another date, right?" (As a side-note here. I am not one to lead someone on. I am direct and don't hesitate to let you know immediately what I think and feel.) But I couldn't think. I was paralyzed and so astonished that it was actually being asked sincerely. All I could get out was, "call me!" What followed made me question how my initial judgment of him could have been so off. He literally clapped his hands and did a little jump in the air. wow.

Not 10 minutes later, safe at home I got a text. "You rock, even better than Bon Jovi. Thanks for a stellar evening. :)" Oh God. The 40 year old just took us all back to the 1980's. The decade I was born. Maybe dating older men isn't such a good idea.