Homeland Farm

Homeland Farm

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

I don't miss the "Dating Game"..

      I have been thinking lately about how fast time flies. Cliffy and I have our seventh anniversary coming up this month on February 26. I can't believe it has been that long, but here it is. Time truly does fly when you are having fun, and hanging out with Cliffy is a lot more fun then dating ever was. I know everyone has their dating horror stories, and I sure have my share.
      I never really "dated" in high school. I remember in Sociology class, we  had to write anonymous  notes to fellow classmates describing them in a short phrase. I got a couple that said "good sense of humor", and "nice" but the one that stuck out at me the most was one that said I should "dress more stylish." I already had 8 different colored chamois shirts, I didn't know what else I could possibly do! Maybe that's why when it came time for junior and senior prom I was umm..lacking in invites. I was eventually asked out for my junior prom by a nice fellow who showed up to get me wearing the latest in male 1980 prom wear. It was a bright, lime green colored tuxedo, complete with a fully ruffled light colored shirt. I, of course, was wearing the latest in female 1980 prom wear..a Jessica McClintock long gown, which was cream colored, and now that I look back on it, very "granny nightgown"- esque. I was on to something great, even back then!
      He didn't have a car, so we rode with a friend of his..in the backseat of a Volkswagen Beetle. Now, in high school, I didn't have as much "junk in the trunk", which was good, because that is essentially where we rode..in the trunk. If anyone remembers the Beetles of the late 1970's, they weren't really made for more then two passengers, especially passengers wearing long gowns, trying to squeeze in behind the drivers seat. Of course, this particular Volkswagen had been having some mechanical issues, which explained the wrenches and oil rags I discovered at my feet. So, off we went in our chariot, leaving a trail of black smoke. Once at our designation, I squeezed back out from behind the drivers seat, only to have someone say.."what's that on your dress?" It was of course, a nice greasy stain from said oil rag, Yep..my first prom and I had a nice black grease spot on my cream colored dress. I swore I heard some girl say under her breathe as we walked past.."She must have come to the prom on the family tractor." It was a tad embarrassing, but pretty much expected. It was just how I roll.
      I managed to continue that theme through my senior prom as well. The big day was fast approaching and Farmer girl Carmen had yet to be asked  to the prom. I never saw the receipt but I think my parents hired my date for the senior prom. It was a family friend who I think would rather have been just about anywhere else that fateful night. But, he hadn't heard about what I do to prom dresses, so he offered to take me.
      I was once again clad in Jessica McClintock, although I decided to go with a light blue dress. Again, it was not a real stretch to being a granny nightgown. My sister and mother were in my room, helping me to get ready for the big night. I was just touching up my makeup when we heard a car pull into the driveway. Kim looked out the window, turned back and said, "He's here!"
     "Okay," I said, "I'm almost ready. I just need to get my shoes on and I'll be all set." I plunked down on my bed, and sat right on my make up kit.
"Crap!" I said, as I jumped back up off the bed. Too late. I had six shades of blue, from midnight to birds egg, in a nice row across my butt. Talk about having the blues.
      "Carmen!" my mother hollered. "Now what do I do?" I asked, as my sister started to laugh. She got a soapy rag and we washed and washed until the blues had faded away. Unfortunately, so had the pattern of the dress in that area. I was some upset.
      "Don't worry, " they both said. "No one will even notice it." And thankfully, I don't think anyone did. It was by far the flaming corsage on my wrist that got more attention then the blank spot on my dress. Who knew corsages were so darn flammable! All it takes is reaching across the table for a roll, then Poof! Up she went! My poor date. I think he demanded hazard pay.
      So, when it came time to "date", needless to say I wasn't expecting much. And luckily, I wasn't disappointed. I didn't have much luck looking around this small town, so I thought I would go the way of personal ads.
One guy I met tried to woo me by telling me all about his car. All the extras it had, and how it was custom painted etc. I wasn't familiar with cars, so when I asked him what it was and he said an "El Camino" I was like "YES!! A SPORTS CAR!" On our first date, I quickly found out I was incorrectly thinking "CAMARO", when that ugly "El Camino" pulled in. He was nice enough, but we didn't "click", and I swear, it wasn't the car.
      Then there was the guy that was real outdoorsy. Loved fishing, and snowshoeing and all things nature. We met for a quick lunch date, and he seemed nice. When he suggested we meet again for supper, I agreed , thinking this might  just work out. So, we made arrangements to meet in a cozy restaurant, and as I drove in, I saw his truck in the parking lot.
      I walked into the restaurant, and said I was meeting the single gentleman who had come in earlier. The maitre'd gave me a rather odd look, and said 'right this way.' As I followed him to the back of the restaurant, I smelled a funny smell, and thought I sure wasn't going to order whatever that was for supper.
     "He requested our coziest nook ," the fellow said as we walked to the small room off the main dining room. I stepped in and oh..my ..god. It smelled like Grizzly Adams along WITH his bear, had decided to join me for supper. "Hi There, " said my date. " I just got here myself." I swear, it was all I could do to not grimace as I walked to the table and pulled out my chair.
      "Soooo, what did you do today?" I asked. I was fairly sure I knew the answer to that question already. I was certain  he had wrestled a skunk, and maybe fried it up for lunch, then perhaps had done a little rutting with the biggest buck in the woods. On his way back to his truck, I figured he had fought a coyote for some roadkill that he decided to take home to make into jerky. Another thing I was sure of was that that room was wayyy to airtight, and we needed a good breeze if I was going to live.
     "Well, I did some hiking, and did some tracking, ...fishing. I think I found a good spot to go hunting this fall." I wasn't far off in my guess of what he had been doing that day. I still can't believe he came in to the restaurant smelling like he did. Come to find out, the waitress told me later that he never requested a "cozy nook"....they put us there. Out of sight and hearing, but I bet..not out of smelling range.
      That was a bad date, but sadly, I can tell you it wasn't the worst date I went on. The worst date was when I had moved on from personal ads to the latest craze.."Dating Services." One birthday my parents, desperate now, since I was approaching spinster age (24), signed me up to join a dating service. The agency took my information and "matched me" to suitable guys ( read here..anyone that they could, whether we had anything in common or not.) Sadly, most of the time, we did not.
      I talked on the phone to one guy, and although we didn't have a lot in common, we decided to meet in Windham for a drink. So, I drove to the restaurant to meet the guy, and sure enough, there was his motorcycle in the yard. Now, I am not, nor was I ever, a real "motorcycle gal", but I figured that that doesn't make any difference. We could have separate interests and still get along, so in I went.
      I walked in to the bar, and there he sat, in the black leather jacket that he said he would be wearing. I sniffed the air, and although it smelled of cigarette smoke, it didn't reek of wild animal musk, so I was excited. I walked over and introduced myself.
      He stood up and shook my hand and I thought oh..how nice.  He has the word LOVE tattooed on his knuckles. We sat down and  I ordered my drink, and we started making small talk. When he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, without asking me 'did I mind?,' or  even 'do you want one?', I knew we were done. As an asthmatic, I am not overly fond of cigarette smoke, so a non smoker was something I had requested from the agency. Obviously, they didn't care/pay attention/ or screen.
     So, I thought I would use the ladies room while he smoked, then come back and hurriedly finish my drink and go home. I excused myself, and went to the bathroom. I returned to the table and saw he must have had to use the men's room, as his chair was empty. I sat down and drank some of my drink. His cigarette was smoldering in the ashtray, so I looked around and quickly snuffed it out. I had an other sip, and pulled my chair in a bit closer to the table. As I sat there, I looked over at his chair and noticed it was pushed way back from the table.
     Then, as I sipped my drink, I noticed that people were kind of..staring at me. I wasn't sure why, but they had that nervous, sneak a peek and look away thing going on. "Huh", I said aloud. I pulled my chair in a bit more, and looked out in the parking lot. That's when I saw it. Or rather, didn't see it. His motorcycle. It was gone. Stunned, I looked back at his chair and all the pieces fell into place. Cigarette smoldering, check. Chair shoved way back from the table, check. Black leather jacket gone, check. Date gone, check.
     I suspect the look that came across my face was probably pitiful, because the waitress came over and leaned down and quietly said, "Anything else for you, honey?"
     "Uhh, no I am all set, thanks" I said. She had my bill in her hand, and I thought, that cheap bugger didn't even pay for my drink! I might not have said bugger. OK, I am sure I didn't say bugger.
     She looked at the tab in her hand, and said, "Ya know what, drinks are on the house. Your all set. Take care." Then she crumpled it up and walked off. I hurriedly put on my coat, and tried not to notice the looks of pity as I ran out of the bar. That's how you can tell this took place a long time ago..people could still smoke in a bar and I could still run.
     I wasn't very happy that day, but it wasn't that I was upset because I was crushed it didn't work out. I was some kind of MAD! The nerve of the guy to do that. I called the agency and gave them a serious heads up on the rude biker dud. They said they would speak to him about that sort of behavior...Like that would change him. I didn't think I would ever date a man in leather jacket again, but then, I met Cliffy.........

This is the kind of guy you WANT to date..he has his own town!

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