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"Excuse me, but is your name Dale?" asked the cute brunette with the sexy brown eyes who I’d been watching for the last thirty minutes.
"Yes?"
"Is that a question?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.
"Well my name is Dale, and I'm waiting on my date Shelly who I was supposed to meet here at 7:30 pm. Are you Shelly?"
"Kelly, actually. I thought we agreed on 7:00 pm? No worries though, we both made it," she said waving away my obvious faux pax.
"Crap, I'm sorry. There was so much noise around me when I heard your name yesterday that I must have heard wrong. It's great to meet you finally. What can I get you to drink, Kelly not Shelly?"
Pointing to her glass that was still half full, she said, "I'm still working on my vodka cranberry, but I usually only stick with one drink, or I get a little tipsy."
Taking this time to notice how fidgety she was I asked, "Are you okay?"
"Oh, sorry. I tend to fidget when I get nervous," she admitted with a blush.
"Don't be nervous. I promise I don't bite," I said trying to come across as flirty and not creepy. I wasn't expecting the raw vulnerability that was coming off of her. It was refreshing compared to the aggressive behavior of the single women in my town, especially after word started to spread regarding my divorce earlier this year.
Note to self: Must treat Kevin to dinner next time I'm in town for setting me up with his cousin.
Kelly was very much my type. With a beautiful full figure, thick brown hair and the most beautiful skin I've ever seen.
Yes, she was absolutely my type physically.
My biggest concern while getting ready for this evening was that I'd revert to the nerdy version of myself that I was back in college before I met my ex. It would be a shame if she decided that I was too much of a nerd and I blew my chances with her.
My last actual date was with my ex-wife back in 2010 years before John and Katie were born. And since I hadn't dated anyone but her since 2002, I was a little out of my depths.
When I first met Maggie, I was a nerdy 24-year-old who was too shy to be any good at dating. This was one of the reasons that both of my previous girlfriends only stuck around for a few months. It probably didn't help that I was so focused on keeping my scholarship that I ended up making them feel neglected as well.
Even though I had come a long way since those days, I still struggled with feeling inadequate since the years preceding my divorce were filled with constant romantic and physical rejection.
Once we had the twins, Maggie claimed to be filled with guilt anytime we did anything without them. Though I loved my children dearly, her ‘guilt' prevented us from sharing intimacies couples need to maintain their relationship while raising children.
Multiple times I arranged for babysitters so that we could have time to ourselves only to have her cry until I turned the car around. The babysitters eventually came to expect us back within 30 minutes of any departure.
I wish I had suggested couples' therapy before things spiraled out of control. By the time the twins were three, I had finally built up the courage to suggest that there may be a problem in my marriage.
To say that my suggestion did not go over how I expected was an understatement.
In my mind I thought of myself as the Rom-Com hero who surprises his wife with his level of compassion, only to have her so moved by her love's concern that she throws herself into saving their marriage.
Instead, Maggie busted into tears and admitted that she'd been having an affair with her yoga instructor for over three years. A yoga instructor she met in her pregnancy yoga class, while pregnant with OUR children.
The years since the twins' birth finally had a new perspective. Maggie wasn't feeling guilty about leaving the twins. She felt guilty because, in her mind, being with me was cheating on her yoga instructing boyfriend.
How screwed up was that?
No wonder we had only had sex 12 times in the three years that followed the twins birth, accompanied by a year and half of no sex before the divorce.
Not wanting to taint my night of fun with continued thoughts of my screwed up marriage, I gave myself a mental shake so that I could dedicate my focus to the intriguingly sweet brunette making bedroom eyes at me.
"Well, how do you usually handle dates? Do you want to talk first, or should we go straight up to my hotel room?" she asked attempting to come across as calm.
I knew she wasn't calm based on the fact that she was currently jiggling her knee up and down under the bar.
I must admit that I was incredibly turned on by her bluntness and her nervousness. Kevin said he was setting me up with his cousin who was known to be a sure thing, but I at least expected to have dinner with her first.
Wasn't the purpose of this to help me get back in the saddle before I joined one of those dating apps and made a fool out of myself?
Fuck it! I haven't gotten laid in almost two years, and I was going to be a selfish prick for once in my life.
"If you're okay with skipping to the end, I am too," I declared trying not to appear overly eager.
She seemed a little taken aback by my directness.
"Unless you're unsure?" I added wanting her to be the decision maker.
"I'm sure! Let's do this!" she said with an adorable squeak while throwing back the rest of her drink.
Before I had too much time to overthink, I lead her out of the bar placing my hand on her lower back.
As we walked towards the elevators, she began to walk a little faster than me, which finally gave me the opportunity to check out the goddess that was about to help me reclaim my libido.
Not bad.
Though slightly on the heavy side, Kelly carried it confidently, which was the most attractive feature a woman could have.
But, I had never been shallow when it came to size and had always preferred softer women. My ex was a beautiful size 16 till she took up yoga and suddenly dropped four sizes. Though she was still beautiful to me at the time, her new found health consciousness was how we ended up pregnant with the twins when her doctors had previously thought she would be unable to conceive naturally.
According to her OBGYN, it wasn’t uncommon for women who have a difficult time becoming pregnant, to suddenly conceive after such a drastic weight-loss.
Thus, yoga gave me both the greatest blessings of my life (my children) and the most devastating event of my life (my broken marriage).
Waiting by the elevator doors for our car to arrive, we both began fidgeting with our hands to pass the time. Kelly was strumming her thigh lightly like it was a keytar and I was fiddling around for non-existent items in my jacket pocket.
What was the protocol here? Should I take her hand? Is that what 40-year-old men do when they are on a date? Or was this just a booty call in Kelly's eyes making the traditional courting rituals redundant?
I was so confused!!!
Taking a chance, I awkwardly reached for her hand just as our elevator arrived and missed her hand entirely as she walked into the lift ahead of me leaving me to nervously scratch my neck in avoidance of how much I had just embarrassed myself.
"Coming?" she asked confidently.