dating
All about dating. First dates, three years into a relationship, Tinder, and more.
Merlot Memories
Do you like Merlot? The assortment of answers I got was annoyingly comical. There were a rare few who could name the year and brand they preferred. For me it wasn’t so much a culture test as a test of how they would respond. Did they pass over the question quickly, did they answer it succinctly and leave it at that, or did they dig in to find out why I asked the question in the first place. I’ve had many first dates, used all the apps, tried all the things, but still had not found the connection I was looking for. The kind that feels like a comfortable sweater settling onto your body. Lately I had been searching for that real connection at my local hang outs. The kind you see in romcoms, the kind that Ross and Rachel had after they got past all their relationship screw ups. With my new opener I was certain I could find someone who would care enough about me to dig into the question and hear my story about why I liked Merlot so much. The time between the question and answer was often milliseconds but it often felt like an eternity waiting to see if a connection would spark. The more times I asked the question the more disappointment I received, until that one day. He had a long overcoat, dark hair, and all the smatterings of a successful man from the finance world, without the stiffness that often accompanied these types. The day he walked into my favorite café, I knew I had to get his attention and secure a date. After several encounters, lots of flirting, and a tasteful scrawl of my number on his to go cup, he got the hint. Our first date was set for an upscale restaurant that was classy but not stuffy and semi-posh. Earlier that day he had confirmed the details of our encounter, 7 p.m. he would meet me there. The reservation was set and I should go on inside because he would likely have to work a few minutes late. As I waited, I poured nervously in my head over the possible outcomes of the question: “Never heard of it,” “You don’t drink beer?” “I don’t know much about wine.” You see the real reason for the question was to see if they would care enough to ask me why I cared about merlot. It was not so important that they knew much about the wine or could spout off the best brands, although it was an added bonus, but that they cared enough to find out why I cared about it. You see I was raised in a vineyard and all of my fondest memories involve pressing and gathering grapes with my family to mix the special merlot we sold at our local markets. It was the only wine my grandpa would allow us to produce because he said it was the best. When he cooked, he infused it in all his dishes, and it was a staple at every family meal to have a glass for dessert. He said that it was a wine that was fit every occasion, not to light, not to dark, but a dry satisfying taste.
By Claire Salinas6 years ago in Humans
One bottle
Anaya was having an extremely bad day. Another week had gone by and she didn't make one dime of money. She had quit her job last year as a therapist to pursue her passion, her dream, her God given gift, and became a spiritual teacher entrepreneur. She taught esoteric science, metaphysics, magic, incantation, and the spiritual unknown. But things had not been going as planned. Her savings were depleted. Her marriage ended and her family took her for a joke.
By Leslie Heard6 years ago in Humans
Meet Cute Merlot
Meet Cute Merlot She told me that I just had to meet him. Had to. She, a person whom I would meet only this once-- Cath-- like a fairy godmother bringing me men from her very own past. She was sitting across the lunchroom table from me, on our lunch break from training for a job, it would turn out, that she wouldn't take. "There is just something about you that screams his name-- I think you would get along real well. We used to date a year or so back, but now we just perform together. He is going to be playing an open mic this Tuesday in the college pub. I really think you should go. Go. See what happens"
By Jane OConnor6 years ago in Humans
Guitars at Midnight
“What?” she laughed. He could barely hold eye contact with her all night, only now it was the two of them, alone at her doorstep. After spending a noisy evening with their friends at a beach bonfire, he wished the night didn’t have to end already.
By Nicole O'Connor6 years ago in Humans
First Dates and Wine Stains
I gathered the collar of my wool peacoat, to compensate for my forgetfulness to wear a scarf. Actually, I didn’t forget, I was simply trying to be cute. But cute instantly got tossed out the window as I fought with the strong winds that blinded me with every strand of hair on my head. Tugging at my collar, wiping hair from my face, while trying to read the walking directions on my GPS, was multitasking at its finest. I got turned around twice before I found myself walking in the right direction. I felt foolish for even needing my GPS considering I spent half of my life socializing in this particular part of the city. I knew it like the back of my hand. But since the pandemic, it had been an entire year since I stepped foot downtown. I never thought I would get lost in what used to be familiar territory.
By Rachel Elizabeth 6 years ago in Humans
A Toast to the Comebacks
She moved the Yves Saint Laurent Rouge Pur Couture No. 1 across her lips with masterful ease. She’d worn the brand’s cosmetic line since its 1979 debut, and the cool-toned red was her current signature shade. Anna, short for Annalise, was a faithful type. Most would describe her as grounded, logical, committed, warm, and soft-hearted. She’d done everything well in life: studied well, travelled well, married well, mothered well. She also succeeded well, having owned a women’s shoe store called Stilette’s Shoe Closet on 72nd Street for 35 years. A woman of wise predictions and good planning, she cashed out before online marketing of major department stores became too much to compete with.
By Brandye Kemp6 years ago in Humans
FIRST DATE
I wasn't looking forward to dinner. I didn't want to be social. But this was our first date. Ben, a television writer, wanted to go. I'm also a writer. When we met three months ago, I told him I was working on a "spec" screenplay and was looking for a writing partner...was he interested? He was... and though I thought he was really adorable in a sandy-colored, tousled hair, faded jeans way, I kept that to myself. But, two days ago, he asked me to go with him to a party in Malibu. Like a date! Well, it did beat a Tinder swipe.
By ilona saari6 years ago in Humans
Pearls
Melting - My friend's Valentine's Day party is dotted with chocolate of every kind and shape, including the handcuffs I'm nibbling on. Hearts abound - paper, ceramic, neon, lace, cinnamon, pewter, you name it. I'm taking it all in when a man asks me to find him the cherry in a large box of chocolates sitting on a sideboard.
By Marie Wilson6 years ago in Humans
2 For 1 Date Night
The engagement party was in full swing, and I was sitting next to my betrothed Jace drinking a Bud Light. The backyard bash was full of laughter, barbeque, and beer. A lot of Jace’s family had come from out of town and they were asking about how we met and our first date and all the juicy details.
By Katie L. Oswald (BookDragon)6 years ago in Humans
