Stop Looking

My friend Tim told me the other night what my mom has always told me. When you stop looking, you’ll find love.

I can say beyond the shadow of a doubt that I’ve stopped looking. In the past few nights I’ve had so much fun!

I promised to tell you about “Secret Agent” so here goes. At the Meet Up on Thursday I’d had dinner with Tim, talked to new people from other Meet Up groups and had a great time. I walked up to the bar to pay my tab and across the bar a VERY handsome man was smiling at me. Alex, our bartender (who had such beautiful eyes) said “That’s xxxx and he’s been looking at you all night. We both thought you were with the other guy.” (this is the only downside to sitting in groups with single men and women… You get Vajay-jay blocked!) “Secret Agent” smiled and motioned me over, grabbing a chair to sit next to him. We got to know each other a little better and were rolling with laughter at each other’s jokes. 

I call him “Secret Agent” because that’s really what he does. He asked me what I did for a living and I explained my role in detail. He listened, wrapped up in my voice. Every time I smiled he said “You’re even prettier up close.” It was a sweet exchange and we were laughing and ribbing each other endlessly. Then I asked him what he did and SCREEEEEEEECH. He looked at me very seriously and said “I’d prefer not to talk about that.” My response was “We’re going to talk about it because I deserve to know if you’re going to jail tomorrow for a crime you didn’t commit or if you’re KGB or something and are poisoning me right this second!” That made him laugh, but still nothing. He had the look, so I made eye contact and said “Are you a cop?” Immediately, I was met with an emphatic “No”. I said “Is it Top Secret?” and his eyes met mine. He asked how I could possibly know that? I didn’t tell him it’s because I’ve got a family full of cops and investigators and a bunch of lying exes, so I know a thing or two about jobs that people don’t discuss around crowds and how people lie about what they do. I thought to myself “Either this guy thinks he’s pretty special and is pulling my leg OR there’s something in his past he’s not ready to talk about.” It was the latter. This man worked for the Department of Veteran’s Affairs. He was a decorated Marine with 20 years and multiple tours under his belt. He had scars from the war, most of which were not visible. He was open about his struggles with depression and PTSD. I liked him a lot, so when he asked if I’d like to share a pizza, we did.

I’m really enjoying “Meet Up”. It gets me out of the house, talking to others that are likeminded and screened. In public my personality shines. The nervousness and anxiety of a first date (usually disappointing) is gone. In public, men can see my smile, hear my distinctive laugh and see how my eyes crinkle softly around the edges when I smile .

It’s nice to be appreciated for being attractive (he complimented my outfit and nails) and wicked sense of humor than being treated like a piece of meat for sale. I hear an auctioneer in my head on these dates, with the highest bidder winning an hour of my time that I’ll never get back, then ghosting me afterward. It’s not remotely worth my time.

I may not hear from “Secret Agent” again, but it was a nice feeling to know that there was a mutual attraction, not leading to awkward sex. This seems to be such a practical way to meet future partners.

One other thing…men are competitive as hell, so in a room full of singles, being a tall, intelligent woman with curves in the right places, throwing her head back and laughing with abandon gives me the home field advantage.

Play ball!

-THAT Crazy Girl


3 thoughts on “Stop Looking

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s