A male friend offered to make me dinner one night. I am not much of a cook, and during the week I actually don't cook too much. Between work and swimming and weight training, and the occasional date, there just isn't much time. This man is someone I knew casually, and when he offered I accepted. It wasn't a weight training night, so why not?
He lived in a really nice neighborhood, in a huge house. As he was giving me the tour, I noticed that there really was no furniture left in the place. "That's because my wife took it all, when she moved out," he said. He spent a lot of time talking about her. She was professional, worked long hours, was capable of making a lot of money but was insisting on alimony. He was reluctant to pay it, because he felt her earning potential was greater than his, and he apparently made quite a bit. They were also fighting over the house. She wanted him to sell it, and split the proceeds with her. He wanted to hold onto it until the housing market improved somewhat. They had apparently reached the proverbial impasse. He seemed like he was still hung up on her, but he insisted that he was done and had moved on. I hadn't really considered the possibility of actually dating him, but as I sat in the kitchen watching him cook, I decided that I could do much worse, if things moved in that direction. One should never pass up a man who likes to cook.
We talked about the usual things. Kids, pets, jobs, hobbies. Since it wasn't really a date, it was pretty casual. Suddenly, there was a key in the front door. He looked up, then got this panic-stricken look on his face. "Oh my god," he said. "It's my wife. Quick- go out onto the back deck. It'll cause problems if she sees you."
Like a fool, I went out onto the back deck. At first, it was fine. But the fog was swirling in, and I get cold pretty easily. After about forty minutes, I decided the hell with it. I was leaving. I tried the door- he had locked me out! I started pounding and making a lot of noise. He finally came to the door- greatly annoyed. They were eating dinner. My dinner. I looked at his wife, who, I might add, was no great beauty, especially as she was eating my dinner. She was stunned. I grabbed my bag, turned and looked at him. "Bye, honey," I said. "Call me later." As I left I could hear her voice, high-pitched and annoyed, asking him what that was all about.
I haven't spoken to the man since. But, I must say- dinner sure smelled good.
He lived in a really nice neighborhood, in a huge house. As he was giving me the tour, I noticed that there really was no furniture left in the place. "That's because my wife took it all, when she moved out," he said. He spent a lot of time talking about her. She was professional, worked long hours, was capable of making a lot of money but was insisting on alimony. He was reluctant to pay it, because he felt her earning potential was greater than his, and he apparently made quite a bit. They were also fighting over the house. She wanted him to sell it, and split the proceeds with her. He wanted to hold onto it until the housing market improved somewhat. They had apparently reached the proverbial impasse. He seemed like he was still hung up on her, but he insisted that he was done and had moved on. I hadn't really considered the possibility of actually dating him, but as I sat in the kitchen watching him cook, I decided that I could do much worse, if things moved in that direction. One should never pass up a man who likes to cook.
We talked about the usual things. Kids, pets, jobs, hobbies. Since it wasn't really a date, it was pretty casual. Suddenly, there was a key in the front door. He looked up, then got this panic-stricken look on his face. "Oh my god," he said. "It's my wife. Quick- go out onto the back deck. It'll cause problems if she sees you."
Like a fool, I went out onto the back deck. At first, it was fine. But the fog was swirling in, and I get cold pretty easily. After about forty minutes, I decided the hell with it. I was leaving. I tried the door- he had locked me out! I started pounding and making a lot of noise. He finally came to the door- greatly annoyed. They were eating dinner. My dinner. I looked at his wife, who, I might add, was no great beauty, especially as she was eating my dinner. She was stunned. I grabbed my bag, turned and looked at him. "Bye, honey," I said. "Call me later." As I left I could hear her voice, high-pitched and annoyed, asking him what that was all about.
I haven't spoken to the man since. But, I must say- dinner sure smelled good.
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