I must make a confession: I hate dating. I suppose this sounds mean, but it is so true. Maybe I am destined to become an old maid. Of course, that is probably not a politically correct saying anymore. What would it be?
Career woman? Well, I don't actually have a career just yet either. Maybe I'll always be stumbling through life without either a career or a husband. Maybe I should just simply confess, single life might just be meant for me.
Of course, in my heart, I continually seek the perfect man. Oops- I mean, not-so-perfect man. I know there's no such thing as the perfect man. But I still believe that somewhere out there is a man who is ideal for me. He just doesn't know yet that he is the one for me, as I don't yet know that either. And someday our paths will collide. Or in my case, our paths will probably just crash into each other. Someday I will find that elusive happiness that I have always been looking for.
I stop thinking about my dateless situation for a while, as I work on my mission to save the old house.
And true to the saying, when you stop thinking about something, it often happens.
I think my luck must have changed for a moment, when, once again, I run into Mr. New Jersey-whose name I now know is Mark-the man I helped out at the gas station some time ago. Here he is, sitting-so nicely dressed in a suit and tie-in my favorite booth at my regular fast food place. I naturally take this as fate, which has so generously put a guy into my life again.
For how long, who knows?
"You got the job?" I asked right away, not sure if he would even recognize me.
"Oh, yes, and thanks for your help with the credit card machine," he said with a smile.
"Anytime. Glad to help," I said. I bit my lip, then added boldly, "Want to return the favor?"
He looked a little puzzled, but readily agreed. "Can I sit with you?" I asked, simply.
Things seemed to get better from there, and we had a nice conversation. I told him about my latest project and his encouragement made me ready to conquer the world. His conversation overall left me giddy, and carefree, singing to the radio on the way home and doing a few excited dance steps as I closed the door of my apartment behind me. I taped the phone number to my stuffed bear that sits on my nightstand and keeps watch, just so I could see it when I woke up.
He asked me out the next day. I played the message back five times before calling him back with my answer.
But then I remembered how bad I am at the dating thing.
