Living Happily Ever After

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Dinner With Santa

“He’d grown a beard since I last saw him. I asked, ‘what’s with that?’ He said it was the caveman look.” (Jane Marshall)

My only advance request for our date was that he not act like he was meeting me for the first time. (I didn’t want to look like a loser single woman so desperate for a date that she had to meet men she didn’t know at restaurants!)

He did a pretty good job honoring that request, but he was so polite he probably did say, a little too loudly, how nice it was to meet me. But thank goodness he recognized me when I walked through the door because his gray beard made him look completely different than his online profile picture! I don’t know if I’d have known it was him (except for the warning about the gray beard.)

He was tan, taller than me, had hair (dark but graying at the sides), was nice looking with white teeth, a nice smile, and very warm brown eyes. Not a bad start to a date with Santa! However, unlike that jolly old elf, Bachelor #5 did not have a big belly. He was fit and trim.

We talked all through dinner and when he asked my divorce story, I told him everything. The whole thing. (Remember, this was before I changed that approach.) He was very kind about it and seemed to take it all in stride. He was a VERY nice man, just totally out of my league age-wise. Translation: too old!

After we finished dinner, he was friendly and talkative as he walked me to my car. I made a mental note that I’d just completed my first date with a grandpa AND a man sporting a gray beard, and that although he was too old for me, he was nice.

I had no idea if I’d ever hear from him again, I had no idea what his thoughts were or what his plan was; life is unexpected that way. After all, as the great philosopher Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan ’til they get kicked in the mouth.” Divorced people have been through their fair share of kicks, regardless of their story, I’ve learned.

Another unexpected lesson of the unexpected life that has become mine.

An Invitation

“Find me a man who’s interesting enough to have dinner with and I’ll be happy.” (Lauren Bacall)

He was a very busy man. His invitation mentioned something about an evening had opened up, the only evening for the next month that he wasn’t busy, and amazingly enough, I was free the night he asked about. I accepted his dinner invitation.

When I asked if he would pick me up or if I should meet him somewhere he told me he thought it best we meet at the restaurant. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that all of the time, I just believe it’s best to meet at the restaurant the first date,” he said.

Then he dropped the bombshell. (AFTER I’d already accepted his invitation! Lol. Think of the worries and concerns I’ve mentioned—I won’t call them issues—traceable to aging, wrinkles, and being old; now think about my opinion of facial hair.) Bachelor #5 warned me about his appearance. Due to a theater role he was playing at the time, he said he had a beard; a gray beard, “like an old grandpa.” Then he corrected himself, “Actually, I am a grandpa. But not that kind of one!”

Forty-two years old with a four-year-old, and I had agreed to a date with a grandpa–with facial hair. And it was gray!

The holidays were approaching, I joked that it was his lucky day because I loved Santa Claus! (Did I REALLY say that? I did, and it’s true.) I just never imagined dating him.

The date was on.

“All great change in America begins at the dinner table.” (Ronald Reagan)

The Spaghetti Factory, to be exact.