by Karen Rodriguez
I was 24 years old and divorced living in a house with six other flight attendants, with only a laptop and a suitcase as my real processions. However, that wasn’t the worst part. I was now at the airport being picked up by my first date via Myspace, which is a current site being used by people who were too broke to pay any fees at a real dating site. Surely, this was a recipe for disaster, but having found love and marriage so quickly at a young age once makes me an eternal romantic.
His name was Peter. He was 26 years old, divorced, with a 5 year old daughter, and working at a hardware store. Amazing the potential suitors you can find by just typing in your zip code while including a twenty mile radius. Even if we did not have movies, passions, and interests in common, we had divorce, starting over and heartache to dwell on. Soon after, what followed were the awkward first phone calls. After the second week of phone conversations he let me know he told his daughter that he had a new girlfriend. This should have set off an alarm in my head. Instead I was flattered. A flight attendant’s life could at times be very lonely, and a friendly voice during a layover in Alaska or Kuwait was better than watching an episode of the Golden Girls.
A needed ride from the airport presented an opportunity for a meeting and a “date”. I was excited! A first date represents opportunity, a fresh start, and perhaps an end to a tragic spinsterhood. During the flight home to Atlanta, I risked death in the lavatories used by soldiers who came all the way from the Middle East, to redo my make up every half hour. After landing I made my walk down the concourse in my heels and dress which I tried not to wrinkle during a 9 hour flight.
We were meeting at the food court. I was so nervous I could hear my heart pounding against my chest. I looked around and then I saw him. I was frozen. He was short, very short. I was 5’7″ he was much shorter. He was pale and wearing a sweatshirt with corduroy pants. I thought about running away. How easy it would be. Then I realized I had no ride home. As I tried to decide he found me and made his way to me.
After the awkward greeting and the obvious “wow, you’re so tall” comment, he gave me the coffee he bought for me. It was a sweet gesture. Too bad I had not told him I was lactose intolerant. Coffee would do a number on my stomach, especially after eating airplane food for three weeks .Still I took, drank, smiled, and a little piece of me died on the inside. That’s when I noticed. A giant Sty in his left eye. I was embarrassed to be caught looking at it so I figured better to ignore it.
During the ride to lunch I kept thinking about the Sty. How does one get one? Why did he not cancel the date? Does he know he has it? I tried to take my mind off it. Peter took me to the finest establishment for lunch. Strike that, he took me to the Hard Rock Cafe. Who does that? Of all the places to go in an awesome city like Atlanta, why would Hard Rock Café seem like the most romantic, best, get-to-know-you-kind of place?
After ordering lunch the coffee kicked in. I excused myself and headed to the music memorabilia adorned bathroom. I was there for probably 30 minutes, not kidding. At that point I made calls to various girlfriends for table re-entry ideas. I had left my purse at the table so I had to go back. I figured a sty in the eye canceled out a coffee run attack. Of course he asked where I was and I lied and said I looked around at all the memorabilia hung all over the restaurant.
After the awkward lunch, he took me to another part of town to walk around. This is when he reached for my hand. We were walking the streets and holding hands. It felt so strange to do that with someone other than my ex-husband. I couldn’t help but think how wrong it felt. Peter sensed my discomfort and later admitted feeling the same way. After our mindless chit-chat I could no longer take it. I told Peter I had a flight back out that same night. It was the perfect excuse, yet I could tell he deep down knew it was a lie. I felt terrible for lying. I also felt terrible for wondering if his sty germs were contagious and there I was holding his germ infested hand.
As he dropped me off and carried my bags to the door, I thought about what a nice guy he was. He just was not the right guy for me at the moment. It was not because of his sty, the fact he worked at a hardware store, or that he only came up to my shoulders. It was for the reason we both knew it did not feel right. Perhaps it was too soon from our divorces or we were two puzzle pieces that did not fit.
After the experience, we talked as friends here and there never saying why we did not go on another date. When I took him off my friends list on My Space, he stopped calling. Even though it was a horrible blind first date, Peter came into my life, at the time he did, for a reason. I realized I needed to slow down, be ok on my own and laugh at the situations that make me cringe.
I do remember the last thing Peter said to me the day he dropped me off. “Man, can you believe this Sty in my Eye? I saw it this morning, did you notice it?” I just laughed and said,” No, I didn’t even know it was there”. Then I added, “I am lactose intolerant and the coffee you got me gave me the runs, did you notice that?” Sometimes the best asset in online dating is a sense of humor and no $10 overpriced restaurant hamburger can beat that!
About the author: To escape her bad first marriage, Karen became an international flight attendant. After a long period of bad dating, she met her future husband on a bus in Germany. Together they traveled the world until she got pregnant. Now Karen lives in Atlanta with her new husband and ten month baby girl. She has returned to school for Web Design and developing her line of non-toxic cleaning supplies.
