Wednesday, February 18, 2009

40 minutes at the Waldorf.

James, a 34-year-old lawyer, sought me out on eHarmony. In his profile pictures, he looked tall (he claimed to be 6’2”) and hot and sounded perfectly normal when we spoke on the phone and made plans. Per his suggestion, I meet him for a drink at a tired bar in the Waldorf Astoria.

A short guy wearing thick glasses and a wrinkled brown suit with no tie approaches me.

(Oh Christ.)

James takes my hand, kisses me on the cheek.
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“Hello, Katherine.”

I’m stunned that this guy looks nothing like the guy I was expecting but my parents raised me to be polite.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

“I found us a nice little table by the piano. Is this all right?”

“Sure, this is great.”

We sit. I peruse the cocktail menu.

“What would you like to drink? Liquor, beer, wine?”

“Hmmm. I could go for a glass of red. What are you having?”

“I’m going to let you feel like an alcoholic. I’m just going to order a 7-Up.”

“Oh. Do you not drink?”

“I do sometimes. But I had a headache earlier today. But don’t let that stop you.”

“Huh. Well, I guess I’ll just get a beer then.”

“Because that will make you feel less like an alcoholic?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think there is table service at this hour so I’ll go order. What will you have?”

“I’ll have a Brooklyn Lager, thanks.”

“A lager.”

James steps away to get drinks. I check my clothes. I immediately regret the amount of effort I put in my appearance. I look around for the nearest exit, then back to James, who has seen me in all of my discomfort.

(Fuck.)

James places my drink in front of me.

“Here you are.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you been staying out of trouble, Katherine?”

“Trying to, I suppose.”

“Uh-oh. Trying to? So you’ve gotten into a little bit of trouble, then?”

“A moderate amount, I guess.”

“Moderate.”

“And yourself? Gotten into any trouble?”

“I feel like I’m in one of your plays.”

“I’m sorry?”

“So when can I read one of your plays, Katherine?”

“Um, I’ll consider it.”

“When you write, do you hear voices in your head?

“I hear bits of dialogue, sure.”

“The characters talk to each other?”

“Absolutely.”

“When?”

“When I’m in the shower. Right before I go to bed. I have to keep a journal on my nightstand so I don’t forget anything.”

“Well, I guess as long as they don’t talk to you, right? They don’t talk to you, do they?”

“Uh. No … .that’d make me crazy, I think.”

“You’re not crazy, Katherine?”

“Not as far as I know, no.”

James eats from the nut jar on the table. Great big handfuls.

“You don’t want any nuts?”

“No thank you.”

“You’re nutty enough?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

James looks at my hands.

“No nail polish for our date, Katherine?”

I consider my nails for a moment.

“I’m going through a short period. Usually I’m long and polished but not today.”

(I have twenty bucks to my name for the next three days and I just spent nine of them to get here, you fucking tool. Your suit is tired, your shoes are orthopedic and someone sure as shit knows how to use Photoshop and I'M the asshole because my NAILS aren't painted?)

“A short period.”

“No contact lenses for our date, James?”

“I often wear contacts but not today.”

“I see.”

“Do you ever wear glasses, Katherine?”

“Sometimes. On Fridays, usually.”

“Fridays.”

“Some people dress casual on Fridays. I wear glasses.”

“Do you look like a schoolteacher in your glasses?”

“I look like a graphic designer, actually.”

“Do you ever dress up, Katherine? Like evening dresses, that sort of thing?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“When was the last time?”

“I went to a friend’s wedding a couple months ago. I cleaned up a bit.”

“What did you wear?”

“A black dress with pink accents.”

“A black dress with pink accents.”

A waiter comes to the table.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Just the check please.” James pulls out a credit card.

“I have to head off to a cocktail party. I would’ve invited you but I didn’t know if you would have proper attire.”

“Sure.” (Whatever, douchebag.)

I put on my coat.

“That’s a very checkered coat.”

“It’s houndstooth.”

In and out in under forty minutes. The ugly guy who had lied about his height, level of fitness and general aesthetics blew ME off. Unfuckingbelievable.

Katherine W.
-New York, NY

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