My Dinner with O

One thing I've taken away from this summer dating project is a real sense of how much fantasy we project onto others with very little actual information. Especially in the absence of experience, desire fills the gaps of a picture, so it's hard to shake, even when you know better. I suppose that's why I cringe when an actress like Gwyneth Paltrow plays a character like Emma, or almost any fiction is embodied on the screen, with its (fake) real-life details. Don't mess with my vision of this story!

The above meditation comes from My Dinner with O, no relation to The Story of O, last night. I felt in the days leading up to this, even with emails exchanged over details about where and when, that I had little invested in it, pretty much knew it wouldn't be something to get worked up about, and so was protected from the overly reactive disappointment I felt with The Philosopher. There was Picture Shock, it's true, at least for me -- as for him, he thinks I'm lovely, just terrific. That's really sweet, and I so wish I felt the same about him (or me). Of course he also described his last girlfriend, who left him last year for another guy, as gorgeous, so that tells you something. It's possible that I could work up more enthusiasm with time if something else were there to motivate me, though.

Was there? I actually liked him and enjoyed the dinner. He's not a conversation-monopolizer, he has good politics (Red Diaper baby, interesting), and I admire that he's a self-educated working class guy, one who reads and thinks about the world. He worked for many years as a parole officer, not a job he much enjoyed, after early marriage and babies forced him to drop out of the first year of law school. At one point I asked him to tell me about the most dangerous moment he'd had on the job: I love when people tell me stories, if they're good ones. It was a harrowing tale about chasing a parolee who stole his gun and shot at him twice from down the street. He's not a macho-man, though, but a sweet guy who adores his grandchildren. It was clear that his heart was broken by the long-term girlfriend above who last year reconnected with a male high school friend on Facebook, broke up with him suddenly, and was engaged to the friend within a few months. I can imagine how that felt. He's trying hard to replace her now.

After dinner he looked sad; I asked what he was thinking. He said, "I'm thinking I really like you, but I don't think you feel that way." I told him I would see him again if he liked, and we'll see how it goes. But I feel I'm in the position of The Philosopher I so resented -- I'm being persuaded to go out with him by his enthusiasm, not mine. I don't envision wanting to kiss him, and that's the acid test of attraction for me (kisses come easily to some, but for me, they're more intimate than sex. I only want to kiss children and men I can love).

We'll see what happens. I feel kind of guilty and bad that I was disappointed after meeting such a nice guy who actually likes me.

Someone else wrote me last night, coincidentally, just when I thought it was safe to open my email. I don't remember a thing about him except that he's six years younger than I am (extremely unusual) and lives in Riverdale. But since he went to this rare trouble, I said I'd call him. One more can't hurt.