Did He Trap Me?
…Or was I shackled by my own ineptitude?
I was ensnared on a first date that should have been a last date.
He seemed like a nice guy on paper. He was 58 years old. I was about 50 at the time. There was a bit of a gap but age was not an issue for me. Our email exchange was interesting. He had been a singer-songwriter in the 70s and he’d had a couple of major hits. Yes, even I knew the songs. He was tall (always a requirement given my 5ft8 stature) and handsome enough…but within minutes of meeting him in the pub that afternoon in 2008, I knew he was not the man for me.
There was no spark, no chemistry, no connection. He didn’t laugh at my jokes and mainly talked about himself. I was just working out my escape plan when he dropped the net around me.
We came to that point in the conversation where one of you says, “Well, that’s been nice. Shall we do it again?” I hate that moment. I feel cornered. Like the squirrel our cat brought into the kitchen that time. I usually want to run away and have to remind myself that I’m a grown-up, not a squirrel. I always try to be polite. I often say, “Can we just be friends?” But having got the response, “I have enough friends. I have no need of friends.” I decided it wasn’t such a good line anymore. I hadn’t yet thought of a better one and frankly, this guy would not even reach…
