Fran and I sat at the bar at Il Vecchio’s next to the guy with the shaved head. Fran chatted him up while we waited for a table. We decided to have dinner at the bar.
Adam was cute enough but not too tall. He seemed interested in petite Fran, so at the end of the night, when he asked for my phone number, I was surprised.
We talked on the phone a few times and agreed to meet the next time I was in Monterey County. The date was set for a Monday night. When I stepped outside of my back gate and onto the shared driveway, the neighbors’ large boxer came at me. I didn’t know the dog, so I jumped into the passenger side of my car and climbed over the console to the driver’s seat.
At the restaurant, the waiter sat us in a cozy corner with a tiny booth. We talked, drank wine, and ate a lovely dinner. We talked about the loose dog, and Adam suggested I buy a broom to keep the dog away from me. I was halfway through the meal when I realized the man was not even separated.
“So you still live in the same house?”
“Yes, but we are never together.”
“But she’s your wife, and you both live there!”
“She’s the mother of my children, and technically we live together, but not really.”
“Where does she think you are tonight?” I asked, trying not to explode.
“She thinks I am working late,” he said.
I am on a date with a man who presented himself as available, but yet he is married and living at home.
“Look,” I said, “I get that filing for divorce is scary. I did it, so I know. But I can’t date you until you do.”
“I want to see you again.”
“Thanks for dinner,” I said. “I need to go buy that broom in case the boxer is loose when I get home.”
A month later the phone rang. It was Adam. He said he had moved out of his house and was living in an apartment.
“Can I come see you sing and then take you to dinner?” he asked.
I said yes. He showed up with a dozen red roses. We had a lovely dinner. Afterward, he kissed me at the car door.
It was like kissing a dead fish.
Was he out of practice? Had I not forgiven him for being untruthful about his marital status? Was there really no chemistry?
All this trouble we could’ve avoided if we’d just kissed that first night while seated at the bar.
He knew I felt nothing. Maybe he also felt nothing. He didn’t call me again. I butt dialed him twice. He said it was hard having a name at the beginning of the alphabet and that he got butt dialed a lot.
The roses were nice. The attention was nice. I wasn’t going to be his reason to get divorced.
Suck it up, buddy! If you’re unhappy, then get out. But don’t use me to do it.
Couldda Wouldda Shouldda
If I would’ve dated Adam, I would’ve found out that he’d been up to the same shenanigans before. His martyr wife was used to it and would stay with him to keep their large family together, so he could have his cake and eat it, too.
I would’ve broken up with him, licked my wounds, and moved on.