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Where else could be a better place to meet a professional sailor than Annapolis, Maryland? Molly was not a naval officer though she did manage to spend a good deal of her life at sea racing yachts. I eagerly anticipated the date and was looking forward to sharing lots of fun and interesting stories.
But it was not meant to be that way.
We met at an Irish pub near the waterfront. Molly was cute if not attractive. She had medium length strawberry blonde hair, flashed a pretty smile and possessed a lean, sexy body. And yes, she had a few riveting tales of her adventures at sea. I thought we had made a good beginning but her interest seemed to wan as time wore on. Her indifferent reactions to my stories created the indelible impression she was not at all interested – or even bored.
Hmmm.
Now I am fully aware I do not live a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous kind of life (even though I do joke that I am an underwear model on my dating profile), but most of my dates really like my stories and I consider myself a pretty interesting conversationalist. As a matter of fact, I worked pretty hard to transform myself into a decent story teller and communicator. And I do not mind the “if you really want me you have to impress me” game that some women play. It can be a fun and exhilarating challenging. But I am not going to kill myself for someone who thinks living a decent life, raising kids and striving daily to be the best person I can be is a second rate existence.
The ennui of my everyday life was getting to Molly. She even flirted briefly with the guy sitting to her left. He offered to buy both of us a drink, but I said no and suggested good naturedly that he should find his own date. Truth is he can have her. I prefer a kayak on whitewater or a canoe on a pristine lake to a yacht anyway. Molly and I walked out of the bar together before saying goodbye but in reality were oceans apart.
