Thursday

But Alas, I'm Not That Kind of Girl.

I'm guessing when you live in a city where casual encounters are the norm, the odds of meeting someone without a hidden agenda are like winning the Powerball on an unsuspecting Wednesday night.

Enter him.

You hear men of his kind only exist in Cary Grant movies and Johnnie Walker commercials, yet there you are anyway having a conversation about the Middle East once he's bought you and your friend a round of drinks. He wants to know more about you, what kind of work do you do and the things that ignite you. He listens attentively to your friend and tells the bartender to "bring her whatever she likes." It doesn't go unnoticed he's attractive and wearing a watch that cost more than your car and furniture put together. You find him intriguing and surprisingly funny despite the fact he's probably closer to your father's age than your own. You've never dated a man much older than you and truth be told, you've no intentions of starting now. You exchange numbers as a courtesy, wondering what life would taste like in a world where money isn't a subject of worry.

Over the next few days he rings you up and leaves funny messages. You answer on one occasion and have a light conversation about your favorite foods and why you refuse to eat duck or veal. He sends you flowers to work and you're relieved to find it's an art form not yet extinct. You eventually stop answering his calls and figure he'll soon get the hint, knowing you probably passed up your only opportunity at an elite gold digging experience.

On a Wednesday he calls and you answer by mistake, feelings of guilt washing over you as soon as you hear him smile on the other end of the line. He invites you to dinner at a restaurant where soup is thirty dollars and movie stars go to be photographed pushing their food around their plates. You toy with the idea for a nanosecond but respectfully decline, offering that you twisted your ankle at the gym. He doesn't believe you but says he understands and hopes you feel better.

When the line goes dead you know he will call and he knows you won't answer. The rat race will continue and you'll probably never get to try a bowl of lobster bisque that goes for thirty dollars. Later he will find a girl whom he'll take to fancy dinners and whisk away to Greece for the summer. You sit there quietly, stretching your perfectly okay ankles on your second-hand couch. Eventually you get up and convince yourself to go on a powerwalk. On the way home you stop by the convenience store and buy a Powerball ticket with a can of lobster bisque. You don't end up winning the lottery that night... Yet your soup, just like life, is fucking amazing.

16 comments:

Jeff Evans said...

Well, I'm sure he'll get over his disappointment, Gorgeous. But I doubt it will be soon. Lovely post.

Anonymous said...

Doesn't that guy know he can get what he's looking for without spending $30, whore?

Yvonne said...

Dude! Can you give my number??? bahaahahaha! Kidding. Sorta. Anyway, this post was amazing! Be true to yourself always. That's the way I live my life. Do I get hurt at times? Sure. But life would be so boring if we ate thirty dollar soup ERRY day! BTW, counting down!!!

Felicia-May Stevenson said...

Awesome post Anna! Very well written. I especially liked the ending... Life is amazing. Why did you say no though? You like him, he's kind, he's a gentlemen... Is it because he's rich? Are you affraid of looking like a gold digger? Or affraid he'll judge because you aren't? Take a chance, answer the phone, damn it!

Annah said...

Jeff: Thank you :)

Yvonne: Cannot WAIT!

Felicia: Because he was 15 years older than me and that's not really my thing. At least not at this juncture.

Ranakate said...

I've never had the particular experience you describe, but I can map it over to ones I have had. The way you write is awesome.

I'm using a "nom de net," but my friends know where and how to find me. Including Jeff. I'm only slightly blackened, not all the way grimy. *grin*

Annah said...

Well that and I don't really like leading people on for the sake of leading them on. I'll leave that job to men. Ha ha. They do it well.

Annah said...

Ranakate: Does your name rhyme with Clewis? And THANK YOU, whomever you may be.

Amber said...

Love the post, Annah Banana. And I get where you are coming from. Even though I have never been in that situation, I have never dated an older man before either (at least not 15 years older) and I think that would be strange.

Of course, I say that NOW. I also find that the older I get, the less I see age differences. That is of course if they are not in a walker or need my help changing their diapers.

I draw the line at that, yo.

Priyanka said...

Reminds me of the time when I was in a similar fix with that guy 7 yrs older, and you advised me against it, still feel grateful! :)

Mynx said...

Wonderful post, a little sad but I love your honesty with yourself. If the guy is right, age shouldnt matter, so he obviously wasn't the right man for you

Paige said...

oh my god I loved this! seriously one of my favorite posts of yours.

Random Girl said...

There is an opportunity cost for everything dear, seems like this one was just a little too high for you to partake in. Good choice. If you're not feeling it, for whatever reason, don't lead him on just to try it out.

T. Roger Thomas said...

This post has inspired me to hit the gym a little harder and try to be a little smarter with my money so that some day I can be that guy except that I plan to close the deal.

HoldenLyric said...

"You sit there quietly, stretching your perfectly okay ankles on your second-hand couch."

LOVE THIS LINE!

Remember me?! haha
I'm back!


http://www.paper-plane-pilots.com/

Carlos "cashe" said...

You would have done the same thing if he was 15 minutes older. He should have skipped the flowers. Great post. Like most of us here, we didn't win either.