Dating Mr. Right

You would think by now that I would be over the “first date jitters”. After all, this was like the 30th first date that I have been on this year, and it is only March. I know what you’re thinking, “Surely you can’t be serious? Thirty first dates in just three months?!?” I assure you that I am entirely serious, and the sad part is, that old cliché is true, it is not them, it is me.

Let me explain. I am very, what is the word… difficult. Other girls are all “How sweet. He is so cute.” I am not impressed. I am a 33-year-old entrepreneur/mom/student that has zero time for games (but obviously enough time for 30 dates- I know). My standards seem to be incredibly high, which makes finding Mr. Right so hard. I want stability, commitment, and peace; not just some guy who can say flowery things and boost my head up. I am comfortable enough in who I am that I do not need his help.

Anyways, back to this first date thing. It is kind of stupid for me to be this nervous for a date for a guy that I am not technically meeting and that I probably will not talk to after tonight anyways. It is kind of crazy to spend so much time prepping, hoping that he likes me when I will not even care tomorrow. Who knows, maybe this will be it.

Right at 6:30 I hear my video chat notification ding. I am sitting right in front of the computer and have been for about 15 minutes, but take my time answering so I do not seem as desperate as I really am. I appreciate his punctuality so decide I will not keep him waiting. Oh. My. Gosh. Surely this is not my date?!? This man looks like he has just been removed from a museum somewhere. God himself has come back reincarnate in this vision of a man. He clears his throat and I snap back to reality. “Hello”, he says while trying to stifle a grin. That smile could light up all of New York City.

“Hi”, I barely mutter while looking at my slipper feet. What is this man doing to me? I have never been so self-conscious in my life: I am a boss! “Do me a favor and go to your front door. There should be a package there from me.” Did this James Bond, super spy looking man just tell me to go to my door? How did he get my address? Without muttering a word though, I comply. He laughs at my Wonder Woman slippers as I walk away.

When I open the door there is a basket filled with two bottles of wine, two wine glasses and a takeout bag from my favorite Italian place. Confused, I return to my computer with a ton of questions. Before I can mutter a word, he explains, “I realize that we couldn’t have a real date right now but wanted it to come as close as possible. I saw where you mentioned your love of fruit and chocolate on your profile, so the Mojave Rain is for you to enjoy with your dinner while we talk. You said your favorite food was shrimp alfredo and that place had the best reviews in town. Hopefully, you like it. The other bottle, Jetbird, is for when we can meet face to face, maybe when I come into town in a few months. “

Stunned, I take the Mojave Rain bottle out of the basket along with one of the wine glasses. Although I do not usually drink, I do not want to be rude and it would be kind of nice to relax, plus I have never tried a Merlot before. I pour myself half of a glass and let it sit while I grab my dinner. When I get settled in, I notice that his intentionality extended to his wardrobe for tonight. Did I say I was nervous? I meant that I am falling in love.