The Dating Diaries: Throwback Thursday

I almost forgot about this one. Which would have been tragic, because it’s too good not to share.

How to start? 

Remember what you considered romantic as a teenager or maybe even dating in your early twenties? And I assume you are in touch now with how it kind of makes you cringe to even think about what you used to think of as sexy?

This is a story about a guy who apparently had such success in his youth with his Rico Suave moves that he never felt the urge to change or upgrade them.

Guy shows up at my house on what was probably our third date, leaning against the doorjamb on my front door and sniffing/twirling a single red rose as he raises his eyes to meet mine when I answer the door.

All I’m thinking is, “Dear God. No.”

He comes in, hands me the rose and says, “Tonight is all about you.” He’s carrying a paper bag out of which he produces wine and massage oil. Without asking, he walks over and lowers the lights.

Standing there in the semi-dark I’m like, “So where are we going for dinner?”

He walks to stand in front of me and holds the (I seriously can’t even type this without laughing) bottle of massage oil and says, “Do you really still want to go out for dinner?”

Have we met?! Of COURSE I want to go out for dinner! I am perpetually hungry! I plan my entire days around my meals. I was promised food! Let go of the image you hold of swooning teenage girls thinking that it’s romantic that you want to give them a backrub and go buy me an appetizer—pronto.

However, being the kind, caring person I am, I recognized that I needed to find the right words to reject his wet oil overture while not rejecting him as a person. I looked deep inside myself, calling upon my wells of compassion and said…

“Well played. All that’s missing is a transistor radio tuned to Delilah love songs for us to be having a moment here.”

He took a step back.

I’m sorry, but come ON. A single red rose? Wine? Massage oil? It just reeks of 80’s romance.

Fortunately, he had a sense of humor. His comeback was, “Just for that, I’m not giving you the mixed tape I made for you.”

And I did get wine out of the deal so, you know, score.

Cheers,

Dena