It is no secret that I work with some very strange people - and that I wouldn't have it any other way. Recently, there were four of us women at lunch and the conversation turned, as conversations will, to men. The youngest in the group is recently married. One is divorced and the other two of us have always been single. Through a convoluted discussion thread, we ended up with a female lunch bunch challenge. All of us were to find husbands within the next 60 days. (The fact that we weren't sure we actually wanted husbands was set aside as irrelevant.). Upon reflection (yes, this was a work lunch; we were sober; there could be reflection), it occurred to me that there was an obvious flaw with this plan. We've all dated, had relationships, one of us had even been married and divorced ... there was no reason on earth to assume that any of us is any good at choosing someone for ourselves. So I threw out the idea that we should each find someone for our friends. And in the final few minutes of our lunch hour, it was decided that the lone married woman should find a husband for the three of us. After all, she seems to have chosen a truly good guy - she clearly has better taste than we do.
Next, I was chosen as the likeliest first candidate, largely because I was about to leave on vacation and might meet men in the course of my travels or in the other city. In particular, they had high hopes that I would meet someone on the 18 hour train ride - maybe in the dining car. Having done several long train rides where I've met a variety of interesting people (but no one with relationship-potential), I was skeptical but willing to keep an open mind.
Alas, when I got on the train I discovered that this was unlike any train I'd taken before. One large difference is that there was NO dining car; you were expected to eat in your roomette. I alerted my friends to this turn of events and proceeded with my vacation.
Had a great time in Chicago and met some lovely people - waiter, bartenders, ticket sellers, even a real estate agent (female) - but not an eligible man in the bunch. So I boarded the train for home, aware that I had flunked Finding a Man on Vacation.
I entered my roomette and settled down with a magazine. Protocol is that one leaves one's door open initially as the porter will come to introduce himself, answer any questions, and, on this train, take your dinner order. Five minutes later, a very cute (in a young Davy Jones/Herman of Herman's Hermit's type of way) man stops at my door and announces, "I'm so glad I decided to do this! I'm thrilled that I chose to take the train and have an adventure!" I smiled, said I'd taken the train many times and was sure he'd enjoy it ... and he walked in, sat down opposite me, and began to chat.
And he chatted. And chatted. And chatted. He chatted through dinner (he asked that his be brought to my room), he chatted up to the moment when I announced that I was going to bed, and he finally went and found his own room. Ten minutes after I arose the next morning, he was back.
I'll admit that for the first few hours, this was rather fun. He was, as I've said, attractive, and also bright and had had an interesting life. I can certainly speak to the latter as I feel that I now know every minute detail of said life! But going into the second day, the appeal of this encounter began to wane. I listen to people for a living and he wasn't even paying me. Plus I'd brought a huge stack of magazines I'd not had time to read and now I was seriously behind.
Thoughts began to swirl in my head. If I told him (even nicely) to go away, was I letting down the team? What if he turned out to be perfect for one of my lunch bunch fellow-challengees? I wasn't *really* looking for a husband, but what if I'd sent this out into the universe and now I was obligated to take what it sent me? Was I just being overly picky? Anti-social? Sane? And if I didn't send him away, was I supposed to keep him? Like a puppy one picks up on the side of the road who needs a home? I didn't even know if he'd had his shots!
In the end, I realized that what I did know - that the train's very late arrival meant that he was going to to miss his connection and he might have to stick around the town where I live - possibly overnight - and that I wasn't ready to get even a cardboard carrier and a cheap leash and be his foster friend - meant that I had to save myself. Twenty minutes before we were due to arrive (and two hours before we did), I made a flimsy excuse to get him to leave. And that was that. Since he lives hundreds of miles from me, I didn't hesitate when he asked for my phone number (don't I ever learn?). I even made it clear that I don't like to talk on the phone, but he could text me.
Only he doesn't like to text. He likes to talk. (Like I haven't figured that one out!). So he calls every other day. (I don't pick up, but, still!!!!)
So that's it, lunch bunch. I'm bowing out of the challenge. I'm admitting that I could probably actually find a husband (or at least a boyfriend), if I looked around for one, but that I actually DO learn from the past. I've learned that when my instincts say "Too much work!!", or "Run for the hills!", I need to heed them. I've leaned that a 50 year-old man who looks like a 25 year-old pop star just might have the face that matches his maturity level. And I've learned that, protocol be damned, next time I'm closing the train door and making the porter knock!
No comments:
Post a Comment