I was on the precipice of meeting someone new. It was exciting because it wasn’t an online thing but had dragged on so long the thrill was waning. We are both organizers for different meetup groups, our paths had crossed and we’d been flirting through the meetup site. About as close to a blind date as you can get – the only picture I had seen of him was about the size of a pencil eraser. He eventually asked me to a movie. Two months down the road. I thought that odd but I agreed. Polling my usual opinion group elicited overwhelmingly that I should go, she was making a lot of effort (????), with only one “he seems a little flaky”. Yes, you’re right. I have no mind of my own, at least not one that I trust. Now as the days went by and we passed messages back and forth he did invite me to dinner. His meetup group was going to an all-you-can-eat place that I’ve since learned is popular in the metro area. He informed me he’d be wearing his flannel pajama pants as they allowed him to be comfortable and eat all he wants. Haha. Funny joke. I wasn’t concerned because I wasn’t going. I don’t do the Denver Metro area. I don’t travel much further South than Westminster. As I would later learn, this dining establishment was in Westminster, but I don’t travel well after dark especially when I don’t know where I’m going, He had asked me to be there at six, which meant driving during rush hour, another thing I hate doing, even in Longmont. The date for the movie came and went and we didn’t go together because this clown (remember this reference) saw the movie twice, TWICE, when it was our turn to go. When I told him it sort of ruined the experience of our seeing it together he didn’t get it. We then made a date for an outdoor concert at a Mall. I was, once and for all going to do this. As always, I carefully chose something to wear, did my hair and makeup, and made some brownies (No! just the regular kind!) because people in his group were bringing food. I drove there, parked and proceeded to try and find him. We hadn’t agreed on a place, so there I was wandering around with my chair slung over my shoulder and a 9×13 pan of brownies under my other arm following the herd to the stage. I spotted him immediately. A Clown of a man. Wearing a cherry red T-Shirt with a slogan on it and ….. let me draw a mental picture for you, shades of brown, checkered flannel, drawstring pajama pants. Every square having a different image in it, a tent, a bear, a fish – apparently he was very outdoorsy!
Now I could write about the entire evening. How he barely said a dozen words to me. How he acted like a ten-year-old with the Colorado flag, using it to “save his place”, but really just sitting on it and whipping it around..If a woman had looked and acted like he did folks would have thought her mentally ill and homeless. I was irritated with myself that I was even questioning whether this was odd behavior. Of course, it was! I was wondering why his many female friends fawned over him like he was hiking’s answer to George Clooney. You see, he is the organizer of a hiking group made up of mostly females and it appears they think of him as some sort of hiking God. I’m sorry, drawstring brown checkered flannel pajama pants with an outdoorsy motif just doesn’t fly with me and shouldn’t with any woman. We must demand more. If I can spend two minutes selecting earrings and a pair of pants with a zipper can’t I expect my date to dress like an adult? Yet, I felt like I was being a poor sport.
I missed my chance to leave early at the break. When it finally ended, we walked to our cars as if it had been a normal evening when it had been one of the stranger nights in my datebook. Walking to our cars I thought I might get a chance to mention how I didn’t appreciate him offering my chair to every one of his friends that passed by – or even wearing pajama pants, but my parents raised me to be accepting of people and their quirks. That’s what bugged me for a long time. Quirks. I was seething but said nothing. I was going to let the whole thing pass until he said: “See you next time!” This gave me the opening I needed to send him a message. Yes, I could have let it go, let it be, but I’m so damn tired. The bar cannot be set any lower, I had to make a statement and frankly, I knew I could without backlash. I admit it. I’m a coward, but I’ve been kicked in the gut many times. I needed to start getting my power back. I told him just what I thought of the evening and a man that wore pajamas. He actually had the nerve to say “what’s wrong with wearing pajamas?”. So I told him. If you’re under 12 or over 80 they’re fine. If you’re on the way home from the hospital after major surgery, okay. Even if you’re on you’re way to Physical Therapy, maybe. But never, ever are they okay in public, in mixed company, on anything that remotely looks like a date. If I find myself in this situation again I will pack it up turn around and walk away, I won’t be the polite little girl my parents raised. I’ve hit the limit and as I said the bar doesn’t get any lower. But that’s like saying things can’t get worse. I know they can and almost certainly, absolutely will. But that’s what it is about hope, this hope of meeting and engaging with someone I connect with. It does spring eternal.