Things Went Sideways

I hate first dates. Some people relish the prospect of meeting new people, making new connections and the possibility of a true love connection. Under my anecdotal, non-scientific observation these people are always extroverts. I’m an introvert, I like people who know me already. I like people whose stories I know and who know mine. I like relationships that are multi-layered, based on inside knowledge and a deep connection that is way beyond superficial. But, to get to this level of deep connection you must first meet people. Agh!

I’m divorced, something I never expected or wanted to be. I was married a long time, decades. Honestly, I don't know how to date in the world of dating apps. When I was last single, we went to bars, met people and fell in love, the way the good lord intended. Now people shop for love, dates, hook ups like buying a shirt on Amazon. It doesn't sit well with me. And I don’t enjoy this new way of dating, but I’m trying.

A dear friend signed me up for a dating site; she thinks I am too fabulous not to have a man, or many, in my life. Bless her. Again she is my long time friend. I promised her I would try. I promised I would try to date as hard as I work in the rest of my life, which means aggressively date. I think that might be a great title for a new reality show, “Aggressively Dating.” In the midst of the global pandemic that was 2020, and now into 2021, I have been on 21 first dates, no easy feat. I don't want to hold you in suspense; there have been no second dates. Has my life become the basis of a sitcom?

But I am a woman of my word and a hopeless romantic, so here I sit, waiting for date number 22. I am out of town, for work. I guess one nice part of online dating you can connect with people anywhere you might find yourself. I’m sitting in my hotel’s swanky bar. My date’s late, but it’s fine. I like reading wine lists, the ambiance is nice, its satisfying to be out of my room and done with work for the day.

The wine list is decent if a bit predicable. I decide on a Napa merlot from a popular winery. I know it well and I know will like it. Merlot is user friendly and easy to drink with or without food. Big reds can be hard to sip alone. And I never like to drink malbec when alone, I read a tell-all-book written by a bartender. He claims that bartenders judge you by what you order. According to this book, malbec screams ‘I’m a middle aged divorced female on the hunt’. I have never ordered it again when alone in a bar.

The bartender comes over, I order the merlot and he gives me some grief. I rant, “I’m so tired of people hating on merlot because of the movie “Sideways”. The movie came out 17 years ago, merlot is a perfectly fine grape and part of many world class wines. The sheep that started drinking pinot noir and bagging on merlot, because of a movie, are spineless and far from true wine lovers.”

Shortly, after my rant on merlot, my date arrives and sits down next to me. He is handsome. Thank goodness he looks like his picture. You take this for granted, but honestly you have about a 50/50 chance with online dating. I’m not sure how or why people do this, but they are often not as advertised. Date number 11 was with a movie producer who said he was 49. We met and his hairline and neck told me he was at least 70. Who did he think he was kidding? Like I wouldn’t notice. My date inquires about my wine. I tell him what it is, and he orders the same. With a smile, he tells me about how he’s tired of people still afraid to drink merlot because of a silly line in a movie.

He delivers the line to me, ”If anyone orders merlot, I’m leaving. I am not drinking any fucking merlot.” He goes on to tell me how one line from a fictional character in a fictional movie destroyed merlot’s sales, even now. I knew all of this already, but I like that he has wine knowledge and conviction. Wine knowledge is something I have pursued and he seems to have done the same. For the first time in a long time, I am hopeful about our date. We are connecting in a real human way about a mutual interest. He’s not trying to impress me with how often he works out, how much money he makes or complaining about his ex-wife. These boring subjects are often the basis of first date conversations.

We are laughing at our favorite lines from the movie. Mine, “Quaffable but far from transcendent.” I like words that start with Q, no idea why so this quote has stuck with me. And quaffable is such a great word.

My date’s favorite “It tastes like the back of a fucking LA school bus...”. Which is a hilarious line.

Having been on so many dating site, first dates, I usually have an exit plan in place. My rule is to allow thirty minutes to assess my date. In this case, thirty minutes comes and goes in a flash. We are laughing, bonding over merlot and movies. I’m actually having fun. We each order another glass of merlot.

A few sips into the second glass I begin to feel woozy. The room is getting dim and fuzzy. I know I’m not drunk, one glass of wine… please, I’m a professional. I can hold my liquor. But I also know I need to lie down, soon or I will be on the floor of this bar. I am not exhibiting good first date behavior. If there is no second date, it will be completely my fault.

I confess to my date that I don't feel well, completely bummed because for once the first date is going well. I tell him I need to lie down and fast. He offers to walk me to my room, normally this is when my internal red flags rise up in concern. He can see this in my eyes and raises his hand in the symbol of scouts honor, all he is going to do is walk me to my room to make sure I make it there alright. In a sudden thought I remember that many serial killers are good looking, charming and outwardly very trustworthy. I try to tell him this but his concern for my well-being seems to be of utmost importance to him. He says he can see that I’m not well and insists on escorting me to my room. I let him because the date has been going so well. He showed me pictures of his kids and dog. What serial killer shares family photos?

He pays the bar tab, gets me off my barstool and to the elevator. Once inside, I lean into him, partly because I really wanted to touch him, and secondly because I can’t stand up well. I’m sinking fast. He gets me inside my room. I lean in to hug him and thank him for being a gentleman. The room begins to spin and everything goes dark.

I wake up in my hotel room with the most intense headache and my mouth is parched. I have no clue what day it is, or the time. As the fog lifts from my brain, I start to remember. Panic sets in, I take inventory of my body. Some level of fear subsides when I’m confident that my body has not been violated. I take in my surroundings … my suitcase is gone. I get up and look around, everything is gone. All of my clothes, my purse, and my toiletries … everything is gone. What kind of deviant steals a woman’s shampoo and shoes? This is a cruel joke.

The shock begins to wears off, I look over at the hotel phone, the light is blinking. I think, great, the hotel wants to know if I need a turn down service and I’m standing here in my slip. My mother fucking date even took the dress off my back. I love that dress, it was expensive and new. I guess I should be happy he took the dress and left the rest of me passed out.

I call down to the front desk, explaining I will need to speak to the manager and the police. I have been robbed. The manager gets on the phone and tells me he will be straight up with the police. The messages on the phone were from him. He and the police were waiting for me to wake up.

The police and the manager come to my room and go through all the details of the evening and investigate the room. I’m wearing the hotel bathrobe over my underwear since it’s the only clothing I have left. My head is pounding; I’m exhausting and humiliated. The hotel manger at least had the good sense to order room service for me, coffee and breakfast helped.

As the police are finishing up, the officer in charge lets me know they had been trying to find this guy for a while. He preys on businesswomen staying at hotels in the area. They knew his MO and were alerted to his presence by the bartender. They apprehended him last night, on his way out of the hotel, with all of my possessions. I will get all of my belongings back after I identify him and my items. This snaps me out of my drug-induced fog. I will get my things back. Suddenly I’m so grateful.

A couple of days later after most of this nightmare is over and my business trip is concluding, I’m sitting at the same hotel bar in front of the same bartender. I thank him for identifying the predator who was my date. He looks at me smiles slightly and says, “I told you not to order the merlot. Nothing good comes from ordering a glass of merlot” . I smile.

I decide to lay off dating for a while and order the malbec.