Miss Matched at Midlife by Brockway Rebecca;

Author:Brockway, Rebecca;
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-63505-145-2
Publisher: North Loop Books

A Woman Walks into a Bar . . .

A HIGHLY SOUGHT COMMODITY ON THE DATING SCENE? Wittiness. A “good sense of humor” is often listed at the forefront of men and women’s online “must-haves.” Also popular must-haves: somebody who likes to hike or take long walks on the beach. From my own daily treks, I’ve discovered that rural trails in Santa Barbara are not teeming with eligible singles, nor is the beach. Perhaps if individuals who claim they desire such a partner frequented local trails and neighboring beaches themselves, there’d be no further need for dating sites.

People will request that which they’re not able to deliver. Many seek a sense of humor in another, yet they’re ill-equipped to return the favor. Funny people are an endangered species.

I had trouble securing street parking near Blush Restaurant + Lounge, where Robert had suggested we meet. I called Robert to tell him I was searching for a spot a block from the restaurant, and that it was likely I’d be a few minutes late. We continued talking as Robert walked outside the restaurant to flag me into the parking garage on Ortega Street.

I drove in Robert’s direction and he remained standing on the sidewalk adjacent to the garage. I waved as I went past. My first impression? Ooh, he’s cute! I pulled into the garage, quickly located a space, and hurried outside to the sidewalk where I anticipated Robert would be waiting. He wasn’t. I walked into Blush and spoke with the hostess. She directed me to the patio. Robert was already seated at the outdoor bar, enjoying a glass of red wine.

Judging from his outward appearance, fifty-four-year-old Robert should have been dynamite with the ladies. He was tall, he was dark, he was well dressed, and he was handsome. He’d been blessed with thick, shiny hair, broad shoulders, and smooth unblemished skin. Match.com had got it right this time. The site had matched me with Robert.

I extended my hand. “Hi Robert, I’m Rebecca. I was worried you’d caught sight of me as I drove by and decided to split.” I laughed as I said this, though honestly, I’d been perplexed, and slightly wounded, by my date’s disappearing act.

“No, of course I didn’t leave. I would never do that. But yeah, maybe I should’ve waited for you and we could’ve walked in together.”

Do ya think?

A man who was aware of the importance of basic social decorum would have waited for me as I parked my car. That act alone—waiting—would have served as a blind-date icebreaker. It would’ve offered Robert and me the opportunity to bond over a shared adventure, regardless of how small or insignificant it appeared. Robert’s failure to pick up on subtle social cues tallied a strike against him.

I put it behind me and sat on the barstool next to Robert. He smelled nice—Abercrombie?

“What are you drinking?” I asked.

“Per Bacco Cellars Pinot Noir. It’s excellent.”

“Per Bacco, huh? Of course it’s excellent! Bacchus is the god of wine. If you can’t trust a wine god to make excellent wine, who can you trust?”

Robert furrowed his brow.

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