The Wonderous Dating Game Page 9

  Real women go to the bathroom, two and three at a time. I never understood why women did that, but I know now. It’s to make sure everyone applies a second coat of paint before leaving the room to return to the men.

  I bet you’re wondering why I’m beating this dead horse to death. Well, let me tell you in detail as my face reddens and burns off the hair on my head. Huh, maybe, that’s why my hair is red.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  My lips were feeling dry, so I picked up my black, sequined bag to find my lipstick. I poked around in the black bag, in subdued lighting, for a black tube of lipstick. No matter how much I probed inside the bag, I couldn’t find it through use of my eyes and the touch of my fingertips.

  To my knowledge, the items I’d packed into the evening bag weren’t different from the last time I’d used the bag, yet it felt different when I was searching for the cylinder of colored balm, this fact caused me to become confused to what prevented me from finding it. I pulled at the opening, leaned over toward the phony firelight to make it easier to see into the dark depths.

  It didn’t change anything by opening the bag wider and attempting to illuminate the inside with the shine of the fake fire. So, I began to pull out the items from my bag one at a time.

  Because I’m not a patient woman, this method wasn’t fast enough for me. I determined it would be faster if I dumped the contents of my bag out on the table in front of me. I tipped the opening to the bag toward the table and shook out the contents onto the tablecloth. Again, I made splashes of color on top of the table covering in a fancy eating place.

  Out came my cash, keyring, with multiple keys, and six little square packages covering my ID that I’d removed earlier. On top of that mess dropped the black cylinder that held the balm I needed to moisten my lips.

  You probably think I would’ve forgotten about the packages and go for the lipstick. You would be wrong. My curiosity overrode my dry lips. Curiosity always overrides common sense in my world, after all we know that curiosity only kills the cat.

  Again, I made the wrong choice. I had a burning desire to know what was hiding in those tiny packages, that reminded me of all the small gifts an X-ray technician, with huge hands, wrapped for me to put under the tiny tree, he gave me for Christmas when I was a patient in the hospital.

  I really can’t leave packages unopened. I must know what’s inside. I’ve been known to open gifts at parties when the honored guest was so slow opening the presents.

  Setting aside my lipstick that I’d frantically searched for so long, I picked up one of the packages and tipped it toward the light of the fake fireplace to better visualize its contents. It took my mind a while to determine what I was holding pinched between my thumb and index finger.

  Suddenly my eyes widened with surprise, and I let out a squeal of delight when it dawned on me what I was holding with my pinky raised in the air, like a proper lady. It didn’t help that I waved the package above my head and smiled from ear to ear at my discovery.

  When looking back on this incident, I’m thankful I didn’t do what I do when I see wrapped packages. I rip them open and throw the paper all over the place, hold up the item and loudly announce what it is that was hiding under all the paper, tape, and ribbons. Well, the above statement isn’t entirely accurate about the contents of the little packages I found in my handbag.

  “Oh, look, condoms.” I waved the packet in the air to show Pete my treasure.

  Many heads turned toward the sound of my surprised and excited voice, a voice that carries when I whisper. I didn’t pay any attention to those who were curiously gazing toward our table.

  “Oh, look, it says it glows in the dark, and it’s red,” I said with glee and my mouth going into overdrive. “I’ve never seen a red condom before, have you? Why would someone want a condom to glow in the dark? Does it glow because the person has a hard time finding the body part in the dark? I wonder if you must hold it in the light to activate it before wearing it.”

  I took a moment to visualize this concept inside my head then I giggled. Looking up at Pete, I saw his eyes widen and his mouth gaped open, yet, not a sound escaped his open mouth, he looked like he was having a difficult time taking in a breath. His face reddened to the point that I feared he was getting ready to throw a clot for a stoke or a heart attack.

  I was confused about the look of surprise on his face; however, this fact didn’t deter me from continuing my treasure hunt of the condom packets. As I gazed at Pete’s startled face, I placed the packet with the red glow in the dark condom into my handbag and picked up another one, which was pink, the packet said, ’Cherry flavored.’

  “Wow, this must be candy. It says it’s Cherry flavored. I wonder if they have other flavors. That’s so cool.”

  I heard a gagging sound coming from beside me. Pete was trying not to laugh. His face had turned a nastier shade of red. He hissed through his teeth, “Put those danged things back in your purse; let’s get the hell out a’ here.”

  He reached toward the pile of objects lying on the table in front of me and said, “Here let me help put your things back in your bag.”

  Without batting an eye, I took another packet from his hand to read the label. “Oh, this glow in the dark condom is black. Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of the lighting? A black condom, in a dark room, would be hard to see even if it glowed. Oh, look, it says it will glow an eerie shade of green. That would make it easier to see, I bet.”

  When I looked up at Pete, my brows furrowed with confusion as I wondered how a black condom could glow green. Then I noticed that Pete’s facial expression changed from amusement to shock as his eyes widened. His eyes were raised to a place over my right shoulder. It was about then that I felt the warm breath on my ear as a person whispered to me.

  “May I borrow one of those? I have a hot date, and I forgot to grab condoms when I left the house. A girl can’t be too careful nowadays.”

  I gazed at the person who had asked to borrow a condom from me. She was decked out in jewels and looked wealthy. I was surprised she asked for condoms in a public place from a stranger.

  You would think this would make me think before I acted. Again, if you are betting on my doing the normal thing, you lose. Mom taught me to share when I could when she finally got my attention about sharing my precious toys.

  I certainly could share a condom or two as there were plenty to go around. I’m surprised I didn’t tell her no, because of how I shared my toys when I was a girl. But I didn’t this time. No, I had to make an adult decision and share publicly.

  “What one would you like? I don’t think I want it back when you’re finished with it. I’ll just give it to you, so you don’t have to borrow.”

  “Could I have two while you are giving them to me.”

  “Sure, why not. I just found them in my purse anyway. What ones will you like to have?”

  “May I have the black one and the Cherry flavored one, please?”

  “Sure, you can, but what…?”

  Pete jumped to his feet, bent at the waist, and scooped up the rest of my things lying on the table in his big hand, shoved the mess into my handbag, zipped the bag closed, pulled me to my feet, and hustled me toward the door. He didn’t even give me time to say goodbye to my new friend and wish her luck.

  “I think it’s time for us to go, we done overstayed our welcome, little lady.”

  I was disappointed, wanting to ask what she was going to do with the Cherry flavored condom. Was this something that is given at parties or Halloween or other holidays? I was genuinely puzzled. I had candy cigarettes when I was a girl, and I saw men handing out bubble gum cigars when they became a father, pink for a girl and blue for a boy, so I presumed that the candy condoms were for fun.

  Pete took my elbow firmly in his hands and pulled me out the door. He carried my handbag. When he helped me in the car, he threw the bag into my lap, walked around, got into the vehicle, started the motor, fastened his seat belt, and squealed his
tires, leaving the parking lot.

  There was no talking on the ride back to Walter’s house. Pete didn’t even look at me as he’d done on the way to the restaurant. His brows were drawn together, and the muscles on his jaw were jumping like crazy.

  What made him so mad at me? What have I done now?

  Being the gentleman that he was, he walked me to the door. I turned toward him to thank him and tell him goodbye, only to see him march stiffly down the sidewalk to his car. His back was ramrod straight. He didn’t look back, nor speak to me.

  “Good night, Pete. Thank you for a lovely evening!” I yelled.

  There was no response from Pete.

  “How rude!”

  Walter flung the front door open. “How was your date?”

  Suddenly I was that fourteen-year-old girl standing on my front porch at the end of my first time out with a boy. I began to cry, not knowing what I’d done wrong to make Pete not even tell me goodnight.

  “Tell me what happened so I can help you figure this out. That wasn’t like Pete to leave without saying goodnight. What did you do?”

  “What did I do? What makes you think I did something to him? Couldn’t he have done something to me, the woman who suffered over twenty-four hours of labor to bring you into the world, you believe I hurt him?”

  “I’m sorry, Mom, but you know that most of the time, you’re the one to do something silly without really trying. Tell me what happened, and we can work it out.”

  I related the whole story about the evening beginning with the ride to the club. When I came to the thing with the condoms, Walter began to laugh. I didn’t see a darn thing that was funny about the incident.

  He heartily laughed when I told him about the lady who asked to borrow two of the condoms, nearly choking when I told him Pete wouldn’t let me ask the lady what she was going to do with the Cherry flavored condom.

  “What’s the purpose of one of those anyway? Do you unroll it to eat it? I don’t understand.”

  “Mom, have you ever used a condom?”

  It was an odd thing for a son to ask his mother. I was uncomfortable talking about this with my youngest son. Of course, I didn’t use a condom. I was married forever until his dad had traded me in for a younger woman.

  “While we are on the subject, how did the condoms get into my handbag anyway? Did you put them in there?” I asked.

  Walter began to laugh again, nodding his head, he patted my hand and choked back his laughter. “What was so darned funny? I didn’t think it was a nice thing that Pete did to me.”

  “Mom, I did it as a joke, besides if you hit it off with him, I wanted to make sure you had protection. You didn’t have any of your own, did you? But I didn’t expect you to dump out your purse and proceed to pick up each condom to read the package out loud in a public place. It isn’t like when you read the cereal boxes to Jim and me when we were kids. Condoms shouldn’t be read out loud in public.”

  How did he want me to answer that question? He has known me for twenty-odd years, so he knows I read everything out loud. Why should I change for a date?

  “What was up giving condoms to a stranger in a five-star restaurant?” Walter asked. “I bet they never had anyone do that before you came along.”

  “Is it OK to give them out at a burger place instead?” I asked. I was confused about his reasoning.

  He was laughing so hard; he woke his roommate. Jack came out of his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What’s going on out here? I have to work early tomorrow.” Jack looked at me and said, “Oh, hi Stella, I didn’t know you were here. How was your date?”

  He was surprised when I burst into tears again.

  “I’ll let you know what happened tomorrow,” Walter said. “The date wasn’t the best in the world, but she’ll recover.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “Not physically, but her feelings were trampled on big time.”

  They were talking about me as if I couldn’t hear them, or I was a child, causing the tears to flow faster. I wanted to know what I’d done wrong, feeling like I was a total loser, I began to sob loudly.

  “Why don’t you go back to bed, Jack. I’ll try to keep it down out here and get Mom calmed down enough for her to drive home.”

  “OK, goodnight Stella. I’m sorry your date wasn’t what you thought it would be. Better luck next time.”

  “Mom, I won’t discuss the condoms with you, it’s embarrassing,” Walter said after Jack went back to bed. “You’ll have to ask a female friend the reason for the different condoms. You work for a Gynecologist, and I’m sure she gives out condoms in the office. Ask her.” He patted my hand to console me. “Everything will work out in the end. I’m afraid you won’t be seeing Pete again. He’s such a prim and proper man. Come to think of it, he’s a stick in the mud. I just thought you would hit it off with him.”

  Great! My son thinks I’m a tight ass and a stick in the mud. This thought made me miffed, which dried the tears faster than anything anyone could say and do.

  I jumped up, grabbed my evening bag. As I pulled out my keys, a condom packet fell out on the floor with a soft plopping sound. I looked at it with disdain, walked toward the door, and yanked it open.

  “Thank you for setting me up with a date. I did have a good time until I needed lipstick to put on my dry lips.” I glared at my son. “We’ll have to go out to lunch sometime and discuss this further. Maybe, then you can tell me why people need a glow in the dark condoms and why they make candy condoms.

  “I don’t want a stranger telling me these things. You are my son, and you owe me.” I tapped my foot on the floor as I thought about condoms. “I guess the candy condoms are like candy cigarettes or bubble gum cigars. It’s sweeter than having the real thing. Goodnight.”

  Walter choked on something that I didn’t see as he put his arm around my shoulder and walked me to my car, hugging me goodnight he dropped a kiss on top of my head. I could tell he was suppressing laughter. He kept clearing his esophagus, either that or he needed to see a doctor for a sore throat.

  Again, I went home alone with my tail between my legs. This time I didn’t know what I’d done that was so bad. Maybe, time would tell or at least my son would come clean.

  Before my grandpa Bill died, he said, “Stella, you are greener than the young sapling in the forest. Instead of maturing as you become older, your green gets greener.”

  Did tonight fall under that label? I again stopped and bought a pint of chocolate ice cream. If I don’t get a handle on my dating technique, I will gain another thirty pounds. After eating Death by Chocolate, I really didn’t need more chocolate, but I did need the calming effect of the cold, creamy confection, and I only like chocolate ice cream.

  Self-pity was a friend to me again. I was confused about the reason for all the silly things happening to me. The date was going so well, and then it went so very bad so very fast. There must be a crack in my soul.

  After discussing the events with Jenny after work Monday night, I concluded that dating wasn’t the thing for me to do at this time. I decided to lay low for a while to learn things I don’t know about the opposite sex. Surely there’s a book that will help me in the library that reveals the secrets to a man’s heart. I discovered Mom was wrong when she said, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  The weekend went without incident as usual. I did my weekly shopping and cleaned my home. Same old stuff as when I was married, only I don’t have to have someone lift his legs so I could vacuum under the couch.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  During the weeks that followed my last date, I soaked up all the knowledge gleaned from the single ladies at work. I was intrigued by the talk concerning a dating service called the Joyous Love Dating Service, which had profiles of possible dates that I could read in the safety of the office that looked like a luxurious living room.

  The idea of looking for a man in the comfort of my living room captivated me, and it sounded like
the best way to hunt for the man who was designated for me in the scheme of the universe. There would be no one there to tell me who would be best for me, besides no one knows me better than I know myself.

  Between patients, I found the telephone number for Joyous Love Dating Service in the newspaper in a tiny ad in the Personal Column. There’s no way I was going to ask anyone at work after all that had happened on blind dates to give me the telephone number. I wanted it to be confidential for now.

  I called for an appointment as soon as the office was free of patients, and we were preparing to close for the day, so I could find out how the service could be a benefit to me. The minutes crawled by slowly.

  As soon as I deposited my check in the bank, I headed to the Joyous Love Dating Service, located downtown, tucked away inside the back of a bookstore. When I walked through the door, I was greeted by a very professional looking woman dressed in a navy-blue business suit and hair tucked in a bun at the back of her neck. It was a little off-putting at first because it didn’t feel or look like any living room that I’ve ever seen.

  To top off my discomfort, I had no idea what it was I wanted in a companion. How was a no-nonsense woman going to help me find out what it was I needed?

  As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about her abilities to help me. She allowed me to ask questions to help me decide if this was a service that would be of value to me. Several forms were presented to me in a pink file folder, loaded with personal questions to assist the men in knowing me better.

  The questions dug into things that I wasn’t sure I even knew about myself. Like my pet peeves, likes, and dislikes concerning food, hobbies, music, etc. Who knew this would be something of importance to either side? Why should I care if the men wanted to have fun on a picnic or why they would need to know if I enjoyed bowling as opposed to football?