All I Have Is A Photograph

It was odd that we could not find anything interesting to talk about. Not that I wanted to discuss politics or other landmine topics. But it was just boring.

We talked about sports. This quarterback's stats, or that baseball team's wild card chances.

We talked about our families. His mother being the size of a mobile home. His sister being an Earth Mother. His brother's odd OCD habits about what things go in which pockets of his pants.

We talked about our kids. What activities they are involved in and how they have handled our respective divorces.

Casey kept trying to hold my hand. I kept finding things I needed the hand to do and kept moving it. Pour the wine. Gesture to the waiter for something. Adjust my silverware.

I kept all of my chat completely impersonal. Not much detail, nothing I wouldn't discuss with a stranger on the subway. I did not want to give the illusion of actually connecting with Casey on any level, which is strange for me because connecting is something I do effortlessly.

Casey of course held up his end of the conversation in his usual overly emphatic syllables. "THIS IS A NICE PLACE! DO YOU BRING ALL THE GUYS HERE? Heh, heh." (No asswipe, just the ones I think I might ditch by sneaking through the kitchen and out the back door just to avoid spending one more minute with!)

And then he creeped me out. He is not on Facebook but he used his 12 year old daughter's account to look at my profile, which thankfully is set to the most private security settings. But he wanted to look at my picture. He admitted having done this.

And he commented that he showed my profile picture to his 2 sons and daughter (yuck) and his daughter had remarked "Daddy, are you going on a date with Sandra Bullock?"

Come on! I am not under any illusion that I even remotely resemble Sandra B on the best of days. Not even a little bit. OK, we both have dark hair. And that is where the similarities begin and end.

And so perhaps from a more appealing man this may have been a cute way to compliment me, but coming from the guy whose breath smelled oddly like a rotting carcass, I was completely wigged out.

Maybe someday I will understand why. For now, I just need to understand how I am going to survive the rest of the date.