Last night, I went to an event sorta/kinda hoping to meet someone I’d connected with on Craigslist’s “women seeking men.” She had said she would be there and that I should stop in to say hello. Yes, a pretty ambiguous situation, but then I’m a pretty ambiguous Bachelor (if I had my druthers, I’d just stay home, wouldn’t I? less die of heartbreak that way), one might even say a desperate one, like those Housewives you hear tell about.
Maybe she was there. I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure... Was that her with the glasses? I had seen a picture, but there were no glasses in the picture, and RW really didn’t look like the VW, and we looked at each other a few times and I got no sense that she IDed me.
Now, obviously, I should have approached her anyway. Except of course there’s a reason I’m a Bachelor: Even at my advanced age, I can’t walk up to an attractive woman and banter, flirt, or whatever it is. I’ve just never been able to do that; never quite figured out how… besides, she was talking to several people. (Yes, Doctor, a self-fulfilling excuse.)
She was really my type, too. If that was you, I apologize for being such a nebbish. (I certainly ruined my evening.)
At least I got a serviceable description out of it: she (the one in the picture; she was smiling in her picture) had one of those lovely wide mouths, a mouth made for a Martini glass.
And she had the name of a woman I pined for in college.