I have a friend who was hosting a show at a club in Universal. Every now and then, I go to hang out with people I know, and enjoy the spectacle of bad singers. I had gone to the club a few days before Christmas, 2010. My friend Katherine asked me if I had spoken to any cute females, and I confessed that I had.
"Did you get any phone numbers?"
"No. It was just talk."
"You need to get their phone numbers."
"Don't I have to want to go out with them before I get the number?"
I find it difficult to get phone numbers for women I have no interest in dating. Who knew?
Christmas Day I had a few people over for a BBQ/gathering. My host buddy stopped by later that afternoon, because if I am cooking, he must come by. It's a compulsion. By early evening, everyone else was gone except for him and another friend G. They managed to talk me into going out to the club that night, even though I had a long drive to Tallahassee the next day.
Although it was a Saturday, it was Christmas night, and the place was dead. We ran into a couple of other people we knew, and we all gathered in the rear of the room near the main bar. At some point, I went upstairs to the bathroom, and I ran into, literally, a nice looking girl named...of course...Katerina. We had a short conversion as I helped her up from the floor. I apologized, and she apologized as well, since we met at the corner.
I went to the facilities and returned downstairs to the stools facing the stage. G was on the stage, singing something I did not recognize, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and faced Katerina.
"Since I ran into you, I thought the least I could do is buy you a drink."
"That's very kind of you, but I think that's my opening."
"Ahh, but I got to it first, so you're gonna need something else."
Let me describe Miss Kat. She had long, brown hair. Plus. She was dressed to go out, but not in the usual trashy manner you see at Citywalk. Plus. She was extremely intelligent, and the conversation was more than the run of the mill "nice weather we're having" variety. Plus. I'm not sure how it came up, but I mentioned that I didn't date girls from the clubs, because most of them are too young. I like to stay at least within 10 years of my age. She said it was no problem, because she was 34. Plus. Before she and her friends left the club, she gave me her number, and asked me to call her. There was not a single red flag. I was feeling pretty good about this one.
The next day, I had a running text chat going with Kat until we left for Tallahassee. I was on my way to meet the ex-wife for a child exchange, and I decided to give Katherine a call to let her in on the news.
"I spoke with a very nice female, and I got her number. In fact, we've had a conversation this morning."
"You have to ask her out." Good grief woman, one thing at a time.
"I was going to, but I wanted to wait a little."
"Why? You're on your own this week. It's the perfect time."
Well, I couldn't argue with that logic, so I called Kat Monday morning and asked her out. At some point, the conversation went something like this.
" I'm really excited. I've never been out with an older guy before."
"Really? How old are you?" I already knew the answer, because she volunteered it when we first started talking.
"Well, I wasn't entirely honest. I'm not 34. I'm sorry, but I thought you were really interesting, so I fudged it a little."
I could feel the alarm bell starting to wind up in my head, but I said nothing.
"I'm really 27."
Oh joy. She's only a few years older than my oldest child. Why do I get myself into these things? At this point, since I had already made the date, I had a decision to make. 1] I can cancel the date. I could just say I didn't want to go out her because she lied and was 17 year younger than I, and I'd be justified. However, that seemed like an ungentlemanly thing to do. And 2] Let it go. Go through with it. What's the worst that can happen?
I fired off a text to Katherine, because she's to blame for this mess. Not really, but I needed a villian. She brought back old memories when she responded, "It's just dinner." Thanks for that.
I decided I would just leave it and go through with the date.
Thursday rolled around and I went to Kat's place to pick her up. She lived on the third floor. She answered the door, and she was wearing a very nice, tasteful dress. I was pretty satisfied, because when she told me her actual age I was a little worried that she might break out something in the Slut Chic line you tend to see these days.
We went to a nice, understated restaurant that lends itself to conversation. The evening was quite enjoyable, even to the point that I forgot about the age difference. Naturally, that would not last.
We spent 2 hours in the restaurant, and we were still enjoying the evening, when she asked if I was interested in going to a club her friends enjoyed to hear a band. Now, I am always interested in hearing live bands, so I said sure. This is where the evening gets murky. We cruised downtown and through some side streets to a bar that I still can't find to this day. I remember passing the big mall and the Amway Center, but the rest is a blur. I was a Boy Scout. I can find my way back to places I visit in the dark. I'm not sure this place was even on the planet, judging by the look of the patrons.
Let me describe the scene. I am wearing a conservative type shirt, button down collar. Kat has the dress as I described, with nice, nondescript heels. The first girl I see has alternating green and pink stripes in her hair, very white makeup, black lipstick, and black, raccoon-like eye liner that might have been applied with a trowel. She was wearing red shorts that went exactly 3mm past her butt cheeks, red leather boots, and a black "tube top" looking thing, that showed off her lovely "Sophisticated" tattoo. on her stomach. Now, sophisticated is a word that is exactly the same as "mature", "gentleman", "lady", et al. If you have to tell people that you are, you most assuredly are not.
I will give her credit for having the smallest ear rings in the joint. Hers were only about 1" in diameter, and bright red.
Kat and I walked further into the cantina when the bartender yelled at us, "Hey no droids in here!" Not really, but it was that kind of place, and if we had brought droids, they would have fit right in. In an area just to the right of the stage, was an odd sight. There were several females dressed in clothes that one might wear in a normal social situation. That was when I met Kat's friends. I don't remember everyone's name, but they included Bailey, Madison, Parker, etc. That's right, I was in a CW teen drama. Too bad there wasn't a Muffy or Hildy in the bunch.
I sat at the table and talked with Taylor, who was the only guy there. I figured he might be the best friend, secretly in love with Bailey while helping her with her dating life, but hoping she would just see how good he is for her, and pining for the day when she would look at him as more than a friend. Plot for CW show complete. Nah, he was just gay.
The girls were busy dancing to the band, who, were actually not bad. They were a standard garage type band, complete with various tattoos, piercings, and an affinity for leather. They did manage a respectable rendition of some Foo Fighters' tunes, although I don't think any labels are going to be knocking on their collective door any time...ever.
I am not sure how long we were in this upscale establishment, but it had to be at least an hour. In between dancing with her friends, Kat came to the table long enough to plop down on my lap, take a few swigs from her drink, and ask me if I was having a good time. The truth was, I was having a good time. She never asked me to dance, partly because this was an all girls dance, and partly because she knew all about the Kentucky incident. That had come up during dinner when we were discussing the whole age thing.
After a about an hour or so, Kat and her friends decided they wanted to go to another club. She asked if I would go, but it was really the same look I get from my daughter when she wants something, so I immediately felt like the old man. Still, it was only around 11, and I was enjoying the evening. Besides, Taylor and I were in the middle of discussing a playoff scenario for college football. So that was important.
Kat directed us to another joint that looked like a building that held any number of serial killers in the shadows. As we went inside, we got a bright purple stamp on our hand of a butterfly. That should have been a sign that this was going to be an unusual type of place. It was. This place had a DJ, waitresses, and a totally different feel. The music was still loud, the drinks watered down, and the clientele young.
Although we were in a different place, the action was the same. The girls danced, the guys talked, and Kat would come over frequently to plop and sip. Taylor did happen to tell me that Kat was quite fond of me, in his opinion. Apparently, she has, on occasion, introduced her dates to this particular group of friends. However, according to Taylor, she has never been so attentive with any of them. I did notice that she waved to me from the dance floor regularly.
The night went on in the same vein. We went to a third joint that I know is somewhere near the Mall of Millenia, but I couldn't tell you where. That probably has a lot to do with the fact that one of her friends rode with us to the last place, and Kat insisted on her sitting in the front seat. More than likely it was an excuse to sit in the middle seat that I normally use as an arm rest.
Anyway, there was more of the dancing, sitting, talking, dancing, sitting, talking. At some point, I realized that I was feeling a lot tired. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the time...3 am. That was it. I was pretty worn down, and I had hit the wall. It was time to pull the plug. As it was, Kat was ready to go herself.
We said our goodbyes, and walked out to the truck. I opened the door and let her in, and she immediately slid over to the middle seat. She did not stop talking the entire drive back to her place. I pulled into the lot and stared up at the 3 flights of stairs to her door. Curse you parents and deep south upbringing for instilling the whole 'walk the girl to her door' mentality. I must tell you, that last round of stairs was not fun. It was 3:30 in the morning, and my whole body was in full blown rebellion.
She opened her door, and asked it I wanted to come in. I really wanted to go home, but I went in anyway. Shut up. When I sat on the couch, I knew it was a mistake. I didn't think I'd be able to get up again. My legs shut down. After a few minutes, I knew that if I didn't get up, I wasn't going anywhere for a while, so I forced myself up and out the door. I crawled into bed and went to sleep.
My body has its own alarm clock. The brain may think it runs the show, but the real power is in the bladder. Every day, when the bladder says it's time to get up, I get up. So, every day, no matter when I went to bed, I am up at 6am. The next morning was no different, and I paid the price that day. The only saving grace was the simple fact that I was off for the day. My day was spent in my chair, sleeping on regular intervals.
Katherine asked me if the age difference on the date was noticeable. At 3 in the morning, it sure was. I like Kat. She's smart and very nice, but the age difference is too much. However, what's the worst that can happen?
