I desperately need to end this downwardly spiraling conversation. I tell Mac to worry about it another time (while I think of a plausible excuse to cancel).
I really do wonder if he has plans later in the evening with someone else. If so she can take over the whole page on the calendar. I'll step aside, thank you.
Remarkably he texts back.
"No, I'm reading the sports page. NO MAN goes to bed without having read the sports page."
No, no man still reads an actual newspaper, dodo.
But what exactly is he trying to say? Does he think I don't know any real men? He'd be my first? The male species is so foreign to me that he's going to have to educate me on their habits and rituals? I WAS married, for Chrissake. And that is only scratching the surface, pal.
"You know, Mac, I have met a few men in my life..."
"You are so cute with your big attitude."
And now I am secretly hoping that he gets crushed to death in a bizarre La-Z-Boy reclining mechanism malfunction. And that his pecker gets pinched off in the process.
The next day I consult some of my girlfriends at work. We are near tears of laughter at the 5:15 dinner reservation. It makes him seem like he's a hundred years old. Or cheap. Or both. But everyone is leery about the second date idea.
So I devise a plan.
I text him that I can't go to dinner that early as I have a parental obligation that evening with one of the kids. Why don't we skip dinner and do something else? I can be free by 7 or 7:30 at the latest.
He picks up the phone and calls me.
It is not a problem - we'll find something to do.
Maybe a movie (Worst first date in the world. Nobody talks) or a nice walk (Are we talking athletic or a walk on the beach?I'll need to know) or maybe we'll just watch TV. (Oh I can assure you that that won't be happening, bucko.)
I tell him we should try to get out of the house. He gets the point, I think.
With that out of the way, I return my focus to work. And I get a text.
"Liza, would you accompany me on a drive to the beach on Sunday?"
Followed by:
"I am so sure that after Saturday you'll be so madly in love with me that you'll want to spend all of your free time with me. I am thinking of buying a shore house and would like to drive down and look at a few."
Seriously?
I reply.
"Mac, provided you turn out to be charming in spite of yourself, I would be happy to drive to the shore with you. But that remains to be seen."
And again, he tells me my attitude is cute.
Why am I going on this date?
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