Shopping for a Date and Other Very Disturbing Ideas
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Love in the Third Degree.
I bought a new dress for this weekendâ€™s date. That surprised me. I mean, itâ€™s not like Iâ€™m in love. Or intend to be. Iâ€™m quite sober about most of the men I meet these days.
After all, I have a closet full of clothes, everything from lace to velvet to vinyl and in probably 3 different sizes (too big, too snug, and this-porridge-is-just-right). Heels of every height, including ones I wonâ€™t walk in but they seem to scream, â€œWorship here!â€
Iâ€™m having trouble figuring out why I bought a new dress, though. Itâ€™s not appropriate to anything but spurring a manâ€™s lustier intentions…but dang, I do have shoes already that match perfectly.
I have plenty of perfect springtime dressesâ€”and I vastly prefer the sensuality of skirts brushing along my legs vs pantsâ€”including dresses Iâ€™ve worn out and about with other men. So why a new dress?
I guess I am a tiny bit excited about this particular date because of the particular plans we have. Weâ€™re going some place weâ€™ve both been dying to try for a long time.
The more feminine concoctions in my closet seem to mock me as I start to understand. Iâ€™ve looked at them all before and wondered which I should wear with this man or that man who might turn out to be special.
Ah, damn. I get it now. Itâ€™s my deeply romantic nature, once again.
I like the idea of dating only men I admire, adore, would love to spend time with. I like the idea of dating men where my expectations are high.
And thatâ€™s the difference. This will be the first time in the past 3 years that Iâ€™ve been out with someone not because I thought he might become someone â€œspecial.â€
And that lack of interest in him as anything more than a travel companion called for a garment that had never been associated with the expectation of being remembered as what I wore on my first date with someone who did turn out to be special.