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My First Date Since My Split

by Veronica Orsayne 4 years ago in dating
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Getting Back Out There

The dry, bubbly champagne made its way down my throat. My nerves were trying to creep in, so I decided to quiet them with a drink. My confidence isn't what it used to be; being in a relationship for over three years makes you lose some of that. Luckily, I had at least shaved my legs and underarms a day ago. That was a nightmare. Imagine a vacant house, whose poor lawn was never maintained; that's how I felt. I had lost all my drive to keep myself looking pretty; that's what unhappiness will do to you. My fingernail polish was chipped, my roots were growing in, and any where hair would grow, it just kept growing because I just didn't care to shave. I always joked that I am a hippie at heart, and it is true to an extent. But the reality of it all is I just let myself go. I didn't have anyone to impress, and I was so over my relationship that I quit caring to impress him as well.

So here I am, finishing off half a bottle of Francois Montand, while applying my makeup. And as the alcohol started to hit me, I of course started checking myself out. It felt as if I had been staring at a grimy mirror for the past few months, and finally took some Windex to that bitch. Here I stand, my face glowing, my makeup perfect, and my hair curled. "I'm back," I said out loud, feeling that inner confidence starting to rise.

I had been chatting with a fellow real estate agent from my office for about a week and decided to invite him out for the night. We had only talked in person once, at an office party, so tonight would be the first night we've ever just been one-on-one. I wanted to explore my new life, and a new me. So my old bar stops were out of the plan. Downtown Okc has never really been my "scene," but I had heard about a great club/lounge and wanted to check it out.

I beat him there by like two minutes, just enough time to give myself a pep talk in my car mirror. He pulled up in a nice, dark blue Mercedes C290; and don't get me wrong, I am not super materialistic, but I love a man who can afford nice things. I myself work my butt off to get what I want, and like a man with the same drive. I get out and give him a hug, and let it sink in how tall he is compared to me. Turn on. I have a very tough personality, so I like men who make me feel safe. I don't want to feel like I have to protect the guy I'm dating. As we walk to the lounge, I take in all of his features. He is definitely a Ryan Reynolds look-a-like, but with red hair. And, hey, who can hate on a ginger? He's dressed nicely in a button shirt and over sweater. It's freezing outside, so I'm wrapped up in my faux fur jacket, which I stole from my gay best friend. He always comes through in a clutch. I've got sexy, black velvet heels on, and dark blue denim skinnies. I'm, as Beyonce and Nicki would say, "Feelin Myself."

I soon discover, once we get through the front, they must monitor who enters very well. I did not see one ugly person or one person not dressed to a Tee. There was a lot of real fur walking around. We went immediately to the bar. Usually I am a gin on the rocks kind of girl, but since I had already started with champagne, I decided to continue the trend. He got a vodka red bull, and I immediately started judging him. As we walked around and explored I watched him sip his drink through the tiny drinking straw. And I just kept replaying the scene from Crazy, Stupid Love in my head, where Ryan Gosling gives Steve Carell a hard time for drinking from the straw. It really does look like you are drinking from a tiny shlong. We chatted through the loud music, trying each to get a feel for each other. He name-dropped a lot. He knew this person who started this club, he knew this person standing against the wall, he knew the girl over there because they used to talk, yada yada yada. He was interesting to have a conversation with when he wasn't trying to impress me. He apparently dated a very wealthy woman in the past, and I think is still recovering from trying to impress her. Name-dropping does nothing for me. I don't care who you know. I just care what you are about.

The music was fantastic. Once I am in the mood, I love to dance. I felt my hips move as we talked. I touched his side every once in a while dancing with him. We definitely had an attraction to each other. The night seemed to go by fast. Before I knew it, the lights were coming on and they were telling everyone to finish their drinks and leave. I was not ready to leave. I hadn't been out with someone in forever and wanted the night to continue. So I told him we should go grab a bite to eat. I had him follow me to my favorite pancake place. I could tell the moment we stepped inside he was way out of his element. It's a very down home cafe. It has a '50s theme, and you are more than likely to sit in a little bit of syrup sliding into your booth, which I did. Once we got past the point of him trying to impress me, I finally caught a glimpse of who he is. I found out he was seven years older than me, which was another turn on. Usually, a man over 30 doesn't play games anymore. Of course, I'm not looking to get into a relationship with anyone anytime soon, but I am also not interested in stupid hook-ups. We are slightly distracted by the redneck white trash sitting across the diner from us, who are talking very loudly to the table behind them. At one point, this idiot of a man tells the African American man sitting in the other booth "Oh, I didn't know black people worked there." Ah, Oklahoma at its finest. I felt anger boil inside me. I hate, hate, hate people like that. What is more frustrating is that they truly do not realize how ignorant they are or sound. I tried to maintain my cool and not get involved. The man sitting at the other table truly impressed me. He joked with the redneck and even ended up shaking his hand at the end of his meal and bought the trash and his friends their breakfast. That hit me hard. Here I am, letting this idiot affect my good time, and the African man that his ignorance was directed at handled it in a completely different manner than I would have.

My date and I both start to yawn across the table. It's past 4 AM, and time to go home. We walk out into the freezing cold, chat for a minute longer in front of our cars. I never make the first move. So I gave him my "sexy eyes" and wait for him to kiss me, which he did. And it was nice. It was sweet and simple. No tongue, just lips. I did give him a teasing bite on his bottom lip at the end of the kiss, just to leave him with something to think about. I get home, curl into bed, and smile to myself. Freedom truly is worth everything.


About the author

Veronica Orsayne

Just here to release some of my creative energy. Some stories are based on my actual life and some are completely fiction. I'll leave it up to your imagination to decide which is which.

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