It wasn’t unusual, of course, at my age, to have a lot of potential dates that were semi- or fully retired. I was captivated by their profiles, which heralded their time to travel to exotic places; dine at fabulous new restaurants; explore new interests; and simply enjoy life’s leisure activities like golf, plays, and resorts. I was still working, and found myself a bit envious that these people had the time and money to do all that. But if they included me in on a date, I was willing to help them travel, dine, explore, and enjoy! I had a lot to learn, it turned out.
Take, for example, my date with a match I’ll call “Ebenezer Scrooge.” I was still unsure of old-age dating protocol at this point. He had invited me to meet for coffee at a downtown café. We sat outside for a while talking, and it was pleasant, but nothing exciting.
When our visit was done and we were getting ready to leave, I realized that he was not making any attempt to extract his wallet. Surely he wasn’t going to stiff the café for a couple of drinks? I thought of a recent letter I’d read in “Dear Abby” about sharing expenses on a date. Should I offer to pay? I thought. I don’t want him to think I’m chintzy!
“Would you like me to get this?” I asked.
Ebenezer actually hesitated, shrugged, and then mumbled something about paying. Oh, dear! I hoped I hadn’t embarrassed him. Maybe he was really poor. I should have glanced again at his profile before the date to see what category his income was. To save face for him, I quickly went to the counter and paid the two whole dollars.
I’m ashamed to admit that I was wrestling with feelings of sympathy versus annoyance that he hadn’t jumped right up and paid. What the heck did this guy think a date was, anyway? After all, it had been his idea to meet here. He should have ordered water if he was that cheap . . . or maybe his Social Security check was late. I thought I’d better give him the benefit of the doubt.
So it pleasantly surprised me when, in a few minutes, he looked at his watch, pointed at a nearby restaurant, and asked me if I’d like a sandwich—his treat! I tried flashing my most brilliant and sweetest smile, in humility. He was probably just as new to this whole dating thing as I was. Or maybe one of his kids had told him dating nowadays meant going Dutch treat, and he’d chosen to pay for the more expensive part of the date. How sweet!
We both must have gotten over the initial first-time meeting jitters, because we actually ended up spending two more hours together talking, laughing, and really enjoying Baby Boomer conversation. “Baby Boomer conversation” is finding out what cartoons we used to watch on Saturday mornings, recalling that Micky Dolenz of the Monkees was Circus Boy Corky when he was little, and remembering the name of Sky King’s plane (Songbird). As a matter of fact, I was enjoying this date so much that time was flying by! I decided that maybe Ebenezer might be worth checking out on another date.
Evidently he had the same feeling, because he asked me if I’d like to meet again. Woo-hoo, a second date! We gave each other a little hug, and I headed over to my car, which was parked near his.
However, I did notice that he didn’t leave a tip, even though we’d eaten our sandwiches in the first fifteen minutes and then sat there taking up a booth for hours. Hmm. But I chose to be positive and nice! Maybe he’d slipped a tip to the waitress when I hadn’t been looking. Yeah. That had to be it.
The next weekend was our second date, and this time we met at a casino. Ebenezer showed up, and we started our conversation from where we left off the week before. I felt like I really knew this guy. We sat in a vacant eating area on a floor of the casino, so we could talk and laugh like a couple of young kids in a secret clubhouse. This was great! “Would you like something to drink?” he finally asked.
“Sure.” I started to pick up one of the menus from the middle of the table.
“Oh, no need to bother with that,” he told me. This casino, renowned for its delicious food, also provided free coffee and pop, available to all the gamblers!
I sat there watching him, debating whether or not I should point out that we hadn’t gambled yet, so maybe we didn’t qualify for the freebies. But I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe his plan for the date was that we would go gambling pretty soon. After all, I was sure the casino could afford free pop and coffee. Heck, yes!
After lots more talking and several large cups of pop and coffee, we needed to take a break to check out the restrooms. The first thing I did was freshen up my makeup, brush my hair, and make a quick smile in the mirror so I could see if my teeth looked yellow or pop-colored!
I beat Ebenezer back out and ended up standing in the hallway, looking at pictures and paintings of various casinos, gambling machines, and horses. After quite awhile, I began to wonder if maybe he’d come out first and had gone looking for me. Or had he just left? Paul Simon’s song “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” suddenly popped into my paranoid mind. Just as I began to work my insecurities into high gear, Ebenezer walked out of the men’s room.
“Oh, there you are,” he said, with a big grin on his face. I felt a warm glow spread over me and melt away my self-doubt. He was really happy to see me! He grabbed one of my hands, and we headed toward the gaming area.
“Well, that was profitable!” he announced, and his grin got even bigger.
Huh? I tried to think if I’d ever heard that sentence uttered after emerging from a restroom. It seemed out of place, but my curiosity got the better of me. I thought I might regret this, but I couldn’t refrain: “Profitable?”
If his grin had gotten any wider, his cheeks would’ve been touching his ears. He opened the fist of his other hand and revealed a bunch of coins. “There’s probably four or five dollars here,” he said proudly.
My jaw dropped. “Awesome! I didn’t know they have slot machines in there. They don’t in the ladies’ room!” I was impressed with my date’s gambling ability.
He squeezed my hand, lovingly, I thought. Then he shook his head. “Nah. I found these!”
“Wow!” Again, a profound utterance from me. “Just lying on the counter?”
“No.”
“On the floor?”
“No.”
This was fun. He was actually teasing me! “I give up. Where, then?” I asked, squeezing his other hand in excitement.
“In the toilet.”
In the toilet? I stopped dead, and pulled my hand from his. I began to wipe it on my jeans, and my eyes darted around the casino to see where I could find some industrial-strength soap to wash it.
Ebenezer stopped and finally noticed my look of horror. “Oh, don’t worry,” he assured me. “I washed them in the sink.”
“Oh, my God.” I know the look that I gave him was one of total disgust. “I’d have paid you five dollars to not have picked those up.”
He didn’t even seem to be slightly embarrassed or ashamed. He seemed as enthralled with his find as if he’d panned for gold and hit the mother lode.
“Well, I didn’t want to let all that money go to waste,” he said earnestly.
His unintended pun about “waste” made my stomach curdle. I could only groan. By this time, we’d entered the slots area, and Ebenezer quickly plopped down to deposit his treasure from the toilet into the machine. I hoped whoever emptied the slot machines wore gloves.
I stood there for almost thirty seconds. Okay, I thought. I’m on this dating site, not only to find male companionship, but possibly . . . very remotely, but possibly all the same . . . to find a potential husband. I stared at this man, now a total stranger, and a scenario flashed through my mind of being the future Mrs. Ebenezer Scrooge: scrounging around public toilets, picking up pop cans to redeem them for deposit money, or even having to sell my blood in order to survive.
I muttered something about remembering I had to babysit my grandkids, and practically ran out of the casino before he could ask me out again.
I guess I’d had Ebenezer pegged correctly from the beginning. I just wished I had listened to myself!
I thought of a plan for the future: One, I need to find out if the retiree dates are on limited incomes, no matter what their profiles say. And two, don’t waste time on the cheap-os. It could turn into a hazmat case.