Mystery Date

We were meeting about 20 minutes from my house.

The whole way there I was wondering how I'd recognize J. It had been quite a few years. Maybe he'd recognize me? No way. I was waaaaaayyyyyy improved since the last time I'd seen him. Better haircut. Better shoes for sure. And not dressed like I was headed to an interview.

I found a decent parking space so I would not have to walk very far in the bitter cold (since the Marital Discord Diet, I had no ability to keep myself warm.) I made my way across the street to the pub we'd decided on. I could see it was crowded. Jammed actually.

Maybe I should call his cell and ask him for longitudes and lattitudes? Or maybe if he is at approximately 3 o'clock or 9 o'clock, if you consider the Guinness tap 12 o'clock

And as I considered these options, I heard a footstep on the pavement in the cold behind me. I turned and there was J. Of course I'd recognize him. He had that fabulous hair. Those green eyes. What was I thinking? And he knew me, too.

We sat at the bar, (9 o'clock) and ordered beer and appetizers.

And I am not sure where the night went, but we covered a lot of history, a lot personal territory, all the professional ground necessary. And before I knew it, it was hours later and we were at a second pub, not far from the first, and I was inquiring why he was still wearing his wedding ring.

He wore it for his girls. They didn't need to have anything more to wonder or worry about. I'd ditched mine the minute I'd told Lars he was getting the heave ho. I am not sure my kids would have noticed that I wasn't wearing my ring. I am not sure at that point if they would have noticed if I didn't have a head.

I was skeptical. That excuse seemed flimsy. But just the same, to let him know I was asking for a reason, and that reason being, that I wanted to make sure he'd truly been released on waivers, as though I could not help myself, I put out my hand and touched the ring.

And held his hand.

And 12 hours later, I'd had a kiss goodnight, had gotten a lovely e-mail, had received a bouquet of roses at my office (sending my boss sailing over the edge of reason) and had been asked on a second date. We would meet after work - he'd pick me up in my building lobby.

I was nervous. The first date turned out to be a surprise date. Now that I knew this was a date, I was a wreck.

And although I was wearing a fabulous outfit, I needed to work in a trip to Lord and Taylor at some point, because somehow I'd managed to get a snag in my fishnets.

And nothing says "Five Dollar Hooker" like a hole in your fishnets.