Lunch Date

Articles

Holly Winter
Living The Life Of Holly

Lunch Date
May 17, 2003

Oh. Good. There was salad on the menu. I felt like eating a light salad for lunch. Even better. They had a fresh Salmon Salad. Perfect.

My date smiled at me. He was kind of cute. Owned some big importing business here in town. He traveled all over the world for work. My friend, Donna, set us up.

“I bet that you’ll order the Salmon Salad.”

I immediately halved my smile. “Why do you think that?”

“Oh. I know how much you like to eat fish, and I know you love salad.” He said, sure of himself.

I sipped my lemonade. Donna must have talked. I had explicitly asked her not to prep him.

“Oh. So. I guess Donna has told you ALL my secrets?” I hate that. It’s so much easier to date people that I meet while shopping, like my lunch date yesterday. Why did I agree to meet this guy?

“No. Donna wouldn’t tell me anything. I read every one of your columns.” He said, proudly.

“Oh. That.” I said, sighing.

Shelby and I had talked about what a nightmare columnist dating was. So many men were hoping for a mention so that they could wear a cap that read, “Misunderstood by Holly.” Why they were looking to me for a moment of fame totally confused me. Um. This is a column, not reality TV.

“Well. I had to know SOMETHING about you.” He said, eyes sparkling. “I like the photo on your column. Very nice, but you are even lovelier in person.”

“Thanks so much.” I said. I removed my straw from my drink and started gulping my lemonade. That’s the problem with lunch dates. No alcohol. But. It’s not like I can’t survive without it.

Ok. I was ready to go home. So. Now the game was to make it through the date without getting invited for a second date. Oh. Don’t doubt me. I am a master of this. You know. Insulting someone just enough so that you never have to see him again.

“So. Am I right? Salmon Salad for you? Shall I order for both of us?” He charmed.

Did I ever write about that? How Darlin-man used to order for me? “No. Thanks. I’m not in the mood for salad today. Going for the burger.”

His face fell. “That’s so unlike you.”

I laughed. Watch out. I was going to use my dating expertise to irritate this man. Cause. How annoying is it to have to lunch with a man who is going to spend his time proving how well he knows a total stranger, rather than trying to get to know me? Hello. Are we talking reality based here?

“Would you like to hear about my art collection?” He asked.

If he had asked about his car collection, I could have started swatting at flies. Was he bluffing?

“Maybe.”

“Well. My most prominent piece is my Picasso.”

I didn’t flinch. “Oh, which period?”

“My great grandmother bought it from his mother years ago.”

Oh. Perfect. He didn’t know the periods. “I imagine that it holds Pablo’s signature?”

He laughed. “Yes, it does.”

“Oh. That’s good. Cause if anyone else signed it… And it’s authenticated?” Hmm. Only the second person I had ever met that had an original, if it were real. The last was at a home I visited in Seville.

“Yes. By Christy’s.”

“Why? Were you going to auction it?”

“No. How can I impress women if it isn’t tested by experts?” He laughed.

I smiled. “Good point. And. Where do you keep your oil?”

He leaned back in his chair. “Are you fishing for an invitation?”

Oh. He was flirting with me. I wonder how many times he had used that line? Cause. I don’t fish for art. I go to the museum.

“No. Just wondering how you monitor the humidity and temperature of the dark hole where you house your print.” I said, un-playfully.

“How do you know about such things?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Guess you missed that column.” I said, dryly.

Our lunch arrived. He ordered the Salmon Salad. I hope that he really wanted it, and wasn’t trying to prove our compatibility. I ordered the bun on my burger, because I was trying to prove that he didn’t know me.

I wasn’t being nearly insulting enough, and I only had about thirty minutes left. I had to get going, or I’d never make my goal. No problem. I had him figured out.

“What do you like to read?” I asked.

“I don’t like to read. If that is a problem for you, I could start. What would you recommend?”

“If you could travel to one place in the world, where would you go?”

“Disney World. Have you been there? It’s very romantic.”

“How do you feel about my best friend being a man?” I asked, innocently. I already knew the answer to this. I relaxed and bit into my bun and burger.

“We need to talk about that.” He said. “Honestly, that’s not going to work for me.”

“Oh?”

“No. I can’t have you spending time with other men. It just won’t do.”

“Is that single men, young men, cute men, movie stars, x-boyfriends? What exactly are we talking about? I need to be clear.”

“All men. I am so glad that you are able to understand this, Holly. It is very important to me.” He had stopped eating and was staring at me.

“Ok. What if I’m at the laundry mat and there’s a man there, should I leave?” I asked, nonchalantly, as I bit into my hamburger.

“Are you making fun of me?” He asked, hurt.

“Yes. I am. I’m so glad you can tell. That’s a good sign.” I said, smiling the first real smile of the date. See. I could enjoy myself, anywhere.

“I was wondering why you were still single. You’re not such a great catch, are you?”

“No.” I said, emphatically. “I’m not. I thought I could fool you.” I said, eating some French fries. I don’t like French fries. These were slightly soggy, kind of like this man.

“Holly, I hope you don’t mind me saying so.” He said, intensely. “I think that this might be our last date.”

Score. “I understand.” I said, trying to hide my victory smile. But. It showed in my eyes. They were glowing.

He noticed.

“But maybe you should give me your phone number, just in case I change my mind when I get home. So I can always give you a call, if I want to.”

Yeah. No.

“Ok. But. I will only agree to another date if Ralph can come, too. We like to do everything together. Are you OK with that?”

Hey. It’s my game. I can cheat if I want to.

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About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com

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