Classified

One happy, single man seeking one happy, single woman to make his happiness complete. I know who I am and she should too. I’m comfortable in almost every situation, incredibly easy to get along with, and would love to treat you like the princess you are. I am 100% a real man, I know how to work on cars and ride a motorcycle. I like football, but I would drop even the biggest Monday night game to give you a foot massage. I know that looks aren’t everything, and your looks don’t matter to me. A beautiful personality is a beautiful person. Serious inquiries only please.
****
I’m driving. I always drive, but never outside a ten mile radius from my home. That’s what happens when you work for a small construction company that has plenty to do within that radius. Some say our company is a monopoly on the local area, but we say it’s just all about location.
My whole being knows the border of the ten mile radius. Within that ten miles is my complete life, so why venture outside of it? My parents live there, my grade school and high school are there, and I didn’t bother going to any type of college. I just started working construction. It’s not that I don’t want more than all of this, I do. I’m happy, but not satisfied, which very well may be why I put up profiles on several online dating sites.
I’ve attracted some attention this way and I’ve also had the opportunity to answer some ads with my own ad. Generally, I could get about two or three dates per month from my ad. We would usually get into some sort of conversation, asking questions like “Who are you?” and “What do you do for a living?” It’s all very superficial stuff, with no emotion or care behind it.
I would always have my dates meet me at a place I knew well. The greasy greek joiunt a few miles down the road from my apartment; the bowling alley where I had attempted a bowling career and failed miserably; or the great chinese buffet, another one of my favorite haunts. The more popular I felt when I walked into a place, the better I thought I would look in the eyes of my date.
****
I’m driving by the donut shop, the one I stopped by this morning on the way to work. I get a coffee and one or two donuts, depending on how hungry I am. This morning I got one, a long john complete with chocolate icing and multicolored sprinkles.
I can see the bowling alley now. I remember the first time I went there with a date, almost a year ago. Her name was Veronica. It had begun with he ad and me replying to it with mine. It was a fairly simple ad, a woman asking for a man to take her out on a date. Just a date, just because she hadn’t had a nice date for a while. It wasn’t like she was in need of a man or a date, she just wanted one. Her last boyfriend was probably a pig and never took her anywhere. For all I know, she might still have a boyfriend. It’s the internet, it’s something you don’t really ask. We met at the bowling alley and while we were still outside, she looked me up and down. She wasn’t exactly a petite little woman and I wasn’t exactly a petite little man, so I thought it would work out if she was basing our date on looks.
She seemed to be mildly interested when she met me. I mean, we shared a few laughs as we were choosing bowling balls. I remember picking a blue one and she picked a lightweight pink one. Typical boy/girl connundrum. I was having a good time and she was too.
We reserved our lane and decided to start the night out with a beer. I said a toast, going something like “To all the exquisite looking bowlers in the world, may they be outdone by you.” She just looked at me, with a look of shock on her face. “I didn’t mean to scare you or anything, I was just being goofy,” I said, but she didn’t laugh.
“Tough crowd,” I thought.
After draining our beers in almost complete silence and looking at everything other than each other, we decided to play a game of bowling. I offered my had to her to help her get off of her chair, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she used the arms on the chair to bring her two feet onto the floor. When we hit the step to get to our lane, I again offered my hand. Nothing. She looked straight ahead and kept walking.
While we were bowling, I would strategically place myself to put my arm around her when she sat down, only to find that she would stand up until I was up on the lane about to bowl. I would come back and she would already be up, waiting for her turn. Even when I wanted to give her a high five for a good bowl, she would keep her hands to her side.
If there’s any support I need to know that I’m not a boring person and I’m doing a good job with my date, it’s the sense of touch. Even a high five would have done it, but when a person is completely disgusted with you for no apparent reason, they will do anything to not come near you. Veronica was one of these people.
We lasted one game and she excused herself to the bathroom, just to leave through the front door and to her car. I was crushed.
****
With the window open, I can feel the breeze. The perfect fall day for leaving my ten mile radius. At least the weather was comfortable, even if I was not. I am on my way to meet the latest date, a date different than one I had ever experienced. We talked the last two weeks on instant messenger and last night we talked for two hours on the phone, laughing about the silliest things in our life. She is excited about our date tonight, that’s what she told me.
Last night, she suggested a place about 20 miles away where we could get a bite to eat. I’m passing these places that have so much memory behind them and she’s asking me to come to her turf, to play on her home field and make memories at someplace she sees everyday. Strange.
Now I’m outside of my ten mile border. I’m nervous, uncomfortable, and wanting to go back home. The parking lot of the diner I am in isn’t bad. I mean, perhaps it’s a little different from what I’m used to, but not a bad different. A homey little diner in the suburbs.
I open the door and I can already see her standing and waiting but a few feet in front of me. Her red hair cascades down her back, and I cannot even open the door.
“Come on, just do it. Open the door. This will be worth it.” I am trying to quiet the mammoth butterflies in my stomach, to no avail.
She turns around probably because she feels me staring at her. “Great,” I think, “She probably already thinks I’m a creeper.”
She opens the door for me and grabs my hand instantly. Her hand is silky and small in mine. She’s talking but all I can focus on is the way she’s grasping my hand. Firm, but gentle. Perfectly proportioned fingers.
She’s touching me, and if feels so unreal, so uncomfortable and unnatural. So long without touch, I just can’t handle it.
****
I’m back in my truck. Did I honestly just say that I had to use the bathroom? Oh shit. I pull my truck out of my parking spot. I guess some people never get over the hurt for something good.