The Knight of Years Past

You know how sometimes you get a phone call or text that is unexpected and out of the blue from someone you haven't seen in a long while. . .

Perhaps you had worked together in the past, or maybe you had just known each other as friends of friends.  Then, out of no where, that person reaches out to you and you are happy to hear from them because you had a positive experience with them, and enjoyed their company.

This is exactly what happened to me.

I was knee deep into my dating experiences. I had enjoyed (?) a conga line of Knights but was fairly thread bare from doing the 'what do you do for work,' and  'what are your hobbies' convo. I had decided for a short break from dating so that I could re-focus on some of my relationships with friends I had not seen in a while due to this Death March of dating.   I longed for a break from the getting to know you conversation and having to try to muddle through a challenging evening that was otherwise not working out.

Nearly as soon as I had wished for it, wa-la, I got a text from someone from my past.  He and I had worked together nearly a decade ago, and I had always thought of him fondly as a good friend, and generally all-around good person.

His text warm and friendly as he had always been.  It was a "Hey you! How you doin?!?"

I happily returned a text of "hey, what's up man!"

He was always such a great guy. . .it was such a pleasure to hear from him!

I had been at his wedding, we shared mutual friends, and I thought that this was a call to report in about a new job or some other of wildly successful occasion that he was reaching out to share. He asked if we could meet up for a drink and I agreed.  This man had a great life, great wife and a beautiful new baby from what I had heard from friends.  I wanted to hear all about his successes. I looked forward to meeting for a drink.

We decided to grab a drink at the Shannon Rose on a Tuesday evening.  I threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, wrapped my hair up into a bun and slid into my Converse sneakers.  I felt that this was proper friend attire.  Generally in the past we had met for lunch, but I imagined he had a full plate these days, and a quick drink after work was probably all he could fit in.

I headed down to the Shannon Rose and parked myself at the bar. I ordered up a Strongbow and patiently awaited my friend's arrival.

A few minutes after my arrival, he blew into the restaurant.  He looked a bit harried, with a phone to his ear and struggling to loosen his tie while walking towards the bar.

He saw me from a few feet away, smiled, waved, pointed to his phone and put up the 'just one minute' finger. I smiled back and nodded in agreement.

He had barely aged. He looked like the same 20 year old kid I had known way back when.  He was sharply dressed in a blue pinstripe suit, white shirt and navy tie. He had always been very fashion forward, and I recalled busting his balls about his keen fashion sense when we would see each other.

'Still a great dresser,' I thought to myself.

He hung up his call and then dashed over to join me at one of the only empty seats left at the bar. He gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.  He grabbed me by the shoulders and held me back to take a look at me.

"My God, you don't age do you?" he proclaimed.

"And this coming from a man who doesn't seem to age either!" I responded.

"How the hell have you been?"he asked,  "You look great!"

"Well I find that the Diet Coke and vodka have been the key to preserving my youthful glow," I giggled.

I hailed the bartender over for him and he ordered a Heineken Light.

He made fun of his own order. "You know we're aging when we can't have the regular beer anymore and light is the only option that doesn't make you all gross the following day."

I smiled warmly and toasted a cheers to old friends getting together.

"Seriously though," he asked. "How's life treating you?"

"Awe. I can't complain. Work is good, been traveling a ton over the last few years and well, no matter how far I move away. I just keep coming back to Jersey."

He shared that through mutual friends that he had heard about my travels and moving over seas from time to time.

We talked about where we used to work together, and shared stories of the fun we had had at happy hours and past occasions together.  He inquired as to how my ex was, having heard that we were no longer together.  I shared that he was now married, and doing well as far as I knew.  We ordered a second beer and some light bites to eat.

He asked if I had ever gotten married. To try to make light of the situation I shared that in my 20s all the wrong ones "kept asking and I kept saying 'no', and now into my 30s, no one seemed to be asking anymore."

Just slow your row there mister. . .

This made him laugh.  He asked if anyone new was in the picture, and I told him that I had had zero success on the dating front to this point.

I guess he could kind of read my disappointment with my perpetual single-hood and seemed to switch gears with the conversation.  I appreciated this.

"Still throwing 'bows?" he asked as he gestured with his elbows poking me in the side. He shared that he had seen me in the newspaper for roller derby a number of times, and had wanted to come and see me play.

"Ah, well it was a good run," I shared. "I am retired now. Got tired of the politics, and my body got tired of the regular beatings. It was lovely while it lasted, but retirement has been good to me."

"Well you look no worse for the wear," he shared.  "I had always thought you had a great figure."  This made me a bit uncomfortable coming from a married man. . .wasn't like him to come off as creepy. Odd.

"Looks like you have been staying fit," I mentioned pointing at him. "Chasing the babe is keeping you in shape I imagine? Still playing hockey?"

"Well," he began. "I barely have time for anything other than work and my kid. They moved me up in the company and I have had an insane schedule for the past three years. It's nuts."

"Oh man," I began. "You're wife must miss you terribly.  How is she? She is such a great woman! Is she still working for the same company?"

His demeanor changed. He shifted in his seat a bit.

"You didn't hear I guess. . ." He seemed confused.

"I didn't hear what?" I asked. Oh God, what had happened to his wife.

"She and I divorced about 18 months ago," he began.  "I don't know. I guess we just grew apart.  I was never around, she changed after we had the baby, and I guess it just fell apart from there."

"Oh, geez. I am so sorry," I said, feeling awful. I really didn't mean to bring up a painful situation for him. How could I have not known. I can't recall any of our mutual friends mentioning this to me.  Based upon the time frame, I must have been living in Australia at the time of his split.  I guess everyone figured that I knew??

"Oh don't be sorry," he continued.  She's getting re-married and he's actually a really good guy.  No bad feelings between us, we just grew apart.  It happens some times,  I guess.  I really thought you knew. . ."

Call me naive.  I had no idea.

To try to switch gears to make HIM feel less awkward, I asked about his kid. He was overjoyed to share stories about his child, and he pulled out his phone to show me pictures.  A LOT of pictures. He told me that every waking moment that he had available was spent with his child.  He spoke of his home now looking like a Toys'R'Us, and how his fridge was stocked full of kid snacks.  His idea of a great weekend was taking his child to Chuck E Cheese, and then to the zoo or the park, and crashing at 8pm.

His idea of a great weekend sounded like the ninth ring of hell for me.

He asked how I felt about not having kids, and if I thought that they were in my future.  I said "never say never," but as of right now, children were the furthest thing from my mind.  I still loved my evenings out, weekend trips away and mornings off reading in bed.  I told him I had a ton of respect for those who had children, because at this point of my life, knowing what I knew about the investment of time and energy a child takes, I didn't feel I was a good candidate. . .

"So you really don't have any interest in kids?" he asked seemingly befuddled.

"Honestly, I'm still a big kid myself. There is a lot that I would want to do with a partner before having children, and just think that jumping into having kids in the super near future with someone I just met, might not be the best idea."

He looked nearly disappointed.  Why did he look disappointed?

Wait, no way. . . I am such an idiot.

Oh God.  This wasn't a friendly drink/get-together. . . this was a date.  I just had no idea going into it that it was a date because I had no idea he was single! The questions about kids didn't have to do with my personal preferences per se; it had to do with whether or not I would be a good candidate to date HIM who had a child already.  Now I felt like a jerk. . . .How do I save this from being the awkward silence that it could possibly be.  OK make this less of a date. . .

"So have you been dating since your divorce?" I inquired.

He divulged that he had been on a few dates, but hadn't really connected with the women because of his hectic schedule with his work and trying to spend as much time as possible with his child.  I offered up perhaps trying to meet single Moms through the day care or in his neighborhood. I was trying to sound cheerful and helpful, and just was failing terribly.  Who was I to play dating counselor??

I think at this point in the evening the bubble had been burst for both of us.  I wasn't ready to date someone with a small child, that had very limited time, and he got the picture that I wasn't the best candidate for him.  We shared a few more stories of times past, finished our drinks and wished each other well on our quest for love.

I ran into him a few months later. He had met a great single Mom, and she and he were doing fantastic. I was so happy for him! In a lot of ways, it gave me hope to keep on going with this dating endeavor.  And so I did. . .

The "Cliche' Knight"

For years I have enjoyed being involved with a number of community groups. While President of my roller derby league, I frequently met with various non-profit groups and civic organizations to partner with, or participate in their various events and activities.  Due to these experiences, I have forged a number of long term friendships with some of the great people who participate in these organizations.  One of the great friends that have come out of this participation is my friend Grant.

Grant and I have now been close friends for nearly 7 years. Due to the fact that he now knows me pretty well, I have been sharing the annals of my dating blog during our monthly lunches. As we were discussing my latest debacle on the dating front, his face lit up.

"Chris," he exclaimed, "I can't believe I didn't think of this before."

I sat there in cautious anticipation.  "Grant, what didn't you think of before?" I inquired.

"I can't believe that I never thought of setting you up with this kid I know," he responded.

I heard kid, and wondered where this was going. . .

"Yeah," he proclaimed.

"I can't believe that I didn't come up with this before.  I have this friend who's son I worked with, and I think that he may be a good fit for you. He's in his late 20s, but he has a good family, a job and his own car. I think that you might like him."

Now, I have known Grant for the better part of a decade. Grant is good people.  I felt that if Grant was going to vouch for this guy then he was something pretty special.

Grant mentioned that perhaps we could all go to a happy hour together.  I thought this was a great idea. I could do the group first-date-thing, and hopefully get all the awkwardness out of the way with Grant as the cushion.

Grant and I wrapped lunch and he promised he would produce a point of contact for this amazing potential-Knight for me.  I bid him farewell and awaited my conduit for contact with this mystery Knight. Not that there was any pressure already, my friend Grant rang me shortly after lunch. He informed me that if this mystery Knight and I were to get married that he wasn't going to accept fish being served at the wedding. I promised that if we did reach the nuptial phase that there would be a steak in Grant's future.

Is it sad that in looking at all the wedding reception photos this excited me the most?

Two days went by, and then I was contacted by this would-be Knight.  The Knight text me that he had gotten my number from my friend (I had consented to my phone number being dolled out), and was reaching out in the hope that we could set up a meeting.

As fate would have it both Grant and my Knight had to work on the night that I had wanted to attend happy hour. To try to make the situation with my Knight work,  I offered to meet this new Knight one evening after my night job: he agreed this would work.

I text Grant and let him know that this new Knight and I would be getting together for drinks in the middle of the week instead of our proposed happy hour. Grant wished me well, and wanted me to to make sure of two things: 1. That I call him afterward to make sure I was OK and fill him in as to the details of the date and 2. Make sure that my Knight was to pay for whatever we did.

I have good people looking out for me :)

My Knight suggested that we go to a place near where he used to work. I had never been to this Cloverleaf bar, but had heard that they had amazing craft beer, so I agreed this would be a great destination. I scheduled the date to be at 10pm to allow for me to have a busy night at work, (I hoped) and still not be running terribly late all shiny and stinky from bar tending.

The night of my date, as fate would have it, my night job was terribly slow.  I was cut at roughly 7:30pm and text my Knight to see if we could move our date from 10pm to 9pm  He agreed and I began to drive over to our meeting place. 

I had thrown on a pair of white pants, sandals and a pretty flowy iridescent blue shirt while I was at work. The girls at work had all given the outfit approval and the boys gave me the wink and nod, and I felt that I was ready to rock.

I arrived in Caldwell tremendously earlier than I had expected. I took this opportunity to stop get gas, buy gum and then park my car and scroll through my Pinterest for a while.  During this time my Knight text me to inform me that he would be running about a half hour late. Thank God for Pinterest.  I sat in the car till he text me that he arrived. I told him that I would meet him in front of the restaurant.  I was concerned that with the bustling restaurant full of people that it would be a challenge to find him. 

Up to this point he had only sent me a Facebook picture via text.  In this picture he was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans and had his thick black hair was styled neatly.  He looked like your average 20 something guy who shopped for clothes based upon a mannequin in the store. From the shot that he sent, he looked like a large, strapping man.  From the picture it looked like he had a broad, muscular body (that I could make out under his shirt) and appeared to be well over 6 foot from the way the picture was shot. I can recall my girl friend and I looking at the picture and both of us commenting that he looked like a huge guy. 

When I showed up in front of the restaurant there was a man with dark black hair standing outside.  He looked like the man in the text picture. He had dark black hair slicked back, jeans, sneakers and an Affliction shirt on. As he walked towards me I realized that he wasn't that much taller than me but his muscles were enormous in his chest and arms. Wow. This man had a serious commitment to working out! He hugged me hello and we proceeded inside.

He opted to get us a table in the back of the restaurant rather than us sitting in the loud crowded bar. I appreciated this, because the last thing I want to do during my non-working time is be bumped by drunk people at a bar. 

We sat down and when the waitress inquired what we were having to drink I was excited at the prospect of sampling one of their fine craft brews.  I looked across the table and inquired what this Knight would be drinking. He proceeded to look at the waitress and tell her he was OK with water.  

Now in the past, when I only had a water, not even a soft drink, this meant that this was going to be a brief date and I didn't really want to be there.  This was not a good start. 

I asked if he was sure he didn't want anything to drink at all. He said he was in training, so he shouldn't, but I should feel free to have one. 

The waitress was stuck in the middle of this back and forth, so to make her life less difficult and not seem like we were just going to sit at a table and drink water all night, I ordered a Stoli Blueberry and club soda.  This looked like water?

As the waitress walked off, the awkward silence had set upon us.  To try to get the conversation going, I asked how he got to know our mutual friend Grant.  He proceeded to tell me the same story that Grant had told me about how they met. Silence again.

I asked him about how he got involved with his job and if he liked his work as a fire fighter.  He told me that he really enjoyed his work, and felt that he had chosen the right career path.  I continued to ask him about his work, how he trained to get the position and what it was like working in a job that could be a life or death scenario daily.  He answered all my questions and then that strange silence creeped in again. 

I was beginning to feel like someone who's parents had set them up with a co-workers son who I had nothing in common with.  I even felt like perhaps he was just forging along with this date to appease our friend.  There was 0 chemistry. 

Out of the blue he blurted out, "so how old are you anyway?"

Oh Jesus.  

What is it with 20-something year old men always asking a woman's age.  When I was younger,  I was raised with the belief that men shouldn't ever ask your age, and now, these days, it rolled off their tongue in the same way they ask you if you are DTF.  What happened to class and cooth? Clearly I had been down this road before.  

"35," I responded.  "Truthfully, there's not much I can do about it."

"Oh, that's OK," he blurted out.  "It's cool."

And so was the conversation once again.  

"So how is your summer going?" I inquired trying to determine if we should just both bail out now or continue with this seemingly forced event.

He told me it was going well. He and his buddies had spent the summer in Seaside going to Bamboo, DJai's and Headliners. 

Anyone who is from NJ is now, hopefully, giggling at this blog entry. Anyone who is not, can click on the links and get an understanding of why they are giggling. 

I told him I was more of a Parker House or Boathouse sort of girl. 

Again. Crickets.

This time he asked me if I was Italian. I said yes, and said I guessed he was too. He was impressed that I knew he was.  I told him it was something about the large, gold, chain with a large, gold, crucifix on it gave me a hint.  

At this point I had managed to suck down my Stoli and club in my VFW hall size glass and began the mental chess game of, do I tell him I am going to get going, or do I stay to see how this goes. 

The waitress immediately attended to us.  We were the last people in the restaurant.  As someone who has worked in the service industry all throughout my life I can tell you, we were the dreaded last table. 

I figured we were packing it in for the night.  I think I even began to do the 'I'm pulling my stuff together and putting my napkin on the table to go' routine.  

He then decides that he is going to have a Red Bull and vodka.  Curious choice, but, OK. He tells me that he guesses it's OK to have a drink. He offers for me to have another.  

Well, he's already ordered his, and I am intrigued that he is looking to continue on with this date.  

"Sure, I'll have another," I tell the waitress.  

I can nearly feel her angst for us emanating off of her being.  Just as she goes to walk away she goes to grab the katsup off the table, probably to  refill it for her side work.  As she reaches for it, he immediately grabs the katsup and tells her, "No, wait.  We're using this."

He giggles and then says "nah, it's cool" to her. I'm mortified. 

For those of you who have never been in the service industry, the last thing that you want at the end of your shift is someone chilling at your table, drinking water till all hours of the night and then thinking they are hilarious when you attempt to do the few things you can do to to wrap up your night. 

I make my 'I don't really know him' face at her and she walks away with a smile that's almost as genuine as my desire to be there. 

"So Grant tells me that you travel a lot.  You ever get out to Vegas?" he asks.

We share our stories of Vegas night clubs, VIP service and DJs we loved.  I tell him that Vegas is the halfway meeting point for my Australian friends and I, and what a blast we have when we go.  He tells me about the pool parties and palatial diggs he scores when he stays out there.  The conversation is actually flowing now. 

This year our alter egos were Miss Australia (middle), her stylist (far left), her best friend (polka dots), I was her  PR person and far right was her manager.  It was like an Australian Entourage. 

I ask where else he has traveled to and he tells me AC.  I share that I was recently there for the opening of Margaritaville at Resorts and he tells me about Murmur and a few other night clubs I have not been to there. 

We talk about our big Italian families and how crazy the holidays are.  He shares that he lives at home with his parents where his mother does his cooking, cleaning and laundry.  His down time is spent at the gym and off nights at various clubs in NJ like 46 Lounge and Jenks. 

I realize more and more we are from two different worlds. I think he does too. 

He's sweet, and kind, and is a good listener.  He's got a great job and a great family, two qualities I think are important.  He's a good looking man, but there's just something that isn't clicking for either one of us.  

We've now finished our drinks and the waitress drops the check.  He offers to pay, and on Grant's advice I agree to this.  I thank him for being such a gentleman, because, truly, he was.  He and I walk out to the parking lot to say our goodbyes.  I thank him for a lovely evening. He offers to go have a few more drinks over at the Ringside, but I decline because it is nearly midnight and well, I've had a long day and I'm tired.  I tell him to have a drink for me and enjoy the rest of his night off.  

He tells me he'll be in touch. I know he won't and neither will I. Kind of thing where if we ran into each other at Corrados we would say "hi" and maybe see how the other was, but I don't see us out painting the town together. 

As he walked towards his tinted out, shiny rimmed Mustang parked in the parking lot, I had to giggle. If I hadn't already been writing this blog with it's Greek tragedy conga line of stories already, no one would have believed me.