Though I am a geographical snob, he passed the test by having purposeful reasons why he lived in the suburbs: home equity and proximity to a lake for his boat.
I was eagerly looking forward to our date as he suggested Top Golf. I had never experienced Top Golf, but friends gave it rave reviews. I did tell Martin that I took a few golf classes in college and at one time, owned clubs.
Between work hours and twilight, Martin called to say that he was running late and asked if we could push our time back by 30 minutes. Worked for me. Considerate.
Martin called as he was on his way. I told him to take his time as I might be 15 minutes late – at most. His voice sounded strained with annoyance. I emphasized that 15 minutes was tops. He replied that he’d turn around and go back home as he just left the house.
Red lights and slow drivers were out that night, and I barely made Top Golf at time promised. Once inside, I sighed relief as I did not see Martin and assured myself I arrived first.
After a few moments, I called. He answered his phone, “Where are you?”
“Oh, inside. Are you here?”
Martin’s voice grew tense, “I’m in my truck.”
“Well, come on in!” I replied with cheerful enthusiasm.
“Did you bring your clubs?”
My mind began racing to remember if he told me that I needed clubs, or did I give the impression that I still owned that historical set? “No. Did I need clubs?”
“You didn’t bring clubs!?!”
Remembering him being an inch taller than me from his Match.com profile, I was quick to say, “No, sorry. Can I use yours as we are similar height?”
A rambling of thoughts began spewing from his mouth that did not seem to make sense, “I don’t want to lug my clubs all over the place all night. You said you had clubs.” Etc.
Trying to make sense of it all, “Martin, how does me not bringing clubs make for you to have to carry your clubs all night?”
“We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait to play!”
This was a simple remedy as I was in front of registration. An hour and a half wait. Effort to calm down the situation, “Martin, leave your clubs. Come on in and have a drink.”
Top Golf might as well have been any bar in Dallas as we never hit a ball. However, after Martin’s welcoming tyrant, I was not eager to be near him with a club in his hand. I had a flashback of my 7-year-old brother at a miniature course knocking me down with one quick swing to my legs with a putter.
By the time we were sitting at the bar relaxing with a cocktail in hand, I decided this situation was akin to a flight. The plane will go down, either smoothly or in flames. I was determined to bring it in for a gentle touchdown.
Martin’s first attempt at non-golf conversation was to inquire if he looked like his photos. “Kind of.” Honesty left my lips before survival instinct kicked in. To me, he looked like an angry, intense, divorced man who had pre-determined dating was a kick in the ass. At this point I would agree.
Conversation stayed light: nutrition, exercise, childhood memories.
Still afraid that I had been lingering near a swarm of sleeping bees, I thanked Martin for the drinks and said that I was going to meet friends for karaoke. I told him he was welcome if he wanted.
I admit that I was terrified that if I made clear that the date was over at Top Golf, he’d go look for his clubs.
Karaoke, friends and another cocktail were the proper landing gear. I shook his hand and said goodbye to Martin the angry Martian.
Ugh. I trust you won't be seeing mad Martin again? I wish Match had a resentment and rage filter. Oh, but then they would have never approved me. :D
ReplyDeleteI was so excited to see there was a new post, but then bummed that the date was so bad! I'm not sure I would have stuck it out as long as you did - you are very sweet and generous! I love your positive attitude!
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