Dillon was the hottest guy in my office, way out of my league. The slightest bit of attention from him made me nervous, so you can imagine my reaction when he asked me out on a date. I was a mess. He’s the kind of guy that oozes class, confidence and sex appeal. I’m the kind of woman that trips over herself on the way to the ladies. Yes that happened, that’s not all that happened, but we’ll get to that…
I was determined to make a good impression. It’s not often that a girl like me gets to go on a date with a guy like Dillon. There was much preparation to do. Shopping for an outfit, conversation coaching from friends, learning to walk in the ridiculous heels my sister insisted on me wearing! I know this is all the kind of stuff that you see in chick flicks, but it happens in real life too – and not just to gorgeous twenty-something year olds, I’m 42 and I hadn’t been on a date for three years.
He picked me up in his fancy car, I was dreading this journey. Firstly I was self-conscious, because sitting in the passenger seat meant him seeing my dodgy side, rather than my good side. Secondly the skirt I had decided to wear rose about two inches up my thigh when I sat down, which I hadn’t accounted for – not a good look for a woman in her forties. And thirdly, I get travel sick, so most of the journey was spent with me trying my best to control the rising nausea.
The dinner itself was lovely. Conversation flowed a little better than I expected. Dillon was orgeous! I could feel other women in the restaurant looking at us. Were they wondering what a gorgeous guy like him was doing with an ordinary older woman like me? I was beginning to feel very relaxed though… that would be the wine. When the waitress came to take our plates away I decided it was time to nip to the ladies.
Wine and my sister’s high heel shoes are not a good combination. As I was approaching the ladies, placing one foot carefully in front of the other, I looked back, self-conscious that he might be watching me, and as I did my ankle sort of gave up on me and I toppled into a passing waiter. His tray went flying. If Dillon wasn’t looking at me before he was certainly looking now! I was mortified. I disappeared into the ladies as quickly as possible. I sat on the loo wishing I could stay in there forever. I felt ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn’t be dating at my age?
Anyway, I took a deep breath and returned. Dillon was a gentleman, but it was too late. I had already made a complete fool of myself and I was a dithering wreck. He had ordered us coffees and the first thing I did when I sat back down at the table was knock the table and the coffee slopped all over the white table cloth – aaargh.
I spent most of the journey home apologising for my clumsiness, and trying to explain the fact that I hadn’t been on a date for three years. Actually, come to think of it, it was probably the rather desperate and crazed conversation in the car journey home that put him off asking me out again!