I'm Paying A Small Fortune To Find A Man

As we shared appetizers and a second glass of wine, David started to smile. I noticed the dimples beneath his salt-and-pepper stubble. He asked to see me again and I gave him my number.

That Saturday night, David picked me up in his BMW two-seater and whisked me to a swanky Georgetown rooftop bar. Before we had left, he made the mistake of petting my Golden Doodle, who, it turns out, was not hypoallergenic. As I watched in horror, David’s eyeballs started to explode on our date. One of his contact lenses shot out of his eye, where it sailed like an ice chip onto the dirty deck floor. Uh oh, deal breaker, I thought. I’d never give up my dog for a man.

“I’ll take an Allegra next time,” he assured me as he dropped me off.

The following week we got together at his house. (Which was nice, by the way.) I met one of his sons and we sat on his porch to sip Sancerre as the rain pattered down.

“I took a Viagra just in case we were going to be at your place,” he said nonchalantly.

“A Viagra?” I repeated, nearly choking on my wine.

“An Allegra! An Allegra!” he said, and we both laughed.

“Look, I’m just going to tell you. I’m crazy about you,” he said about a month in. “I’d love to take you away. I have frequent flier miles, we could go somewhere.”

A romantic getaway sounded sexy, but I was enjoying the measured pace of twice a week and asked to hold off. This was definitely going in the right direction.

In the meantime, It’s Just Lunch called me with another match.

“Gordon is British, he’s 5 foot 10 and retired from the State Department,” said Brandi.

“He’d like to meet you Tuesday.”

Off I went.

Gordon had a manicured brown head of hair — like a TV anchor. Sipping his Negroni, he was elegant in an old-school way, the perfect gentleman. But I missed being with David, who had been pushing to date exclusively. Maybe I was ready.

The following weekend my friend was hosting my birthday dinner. David picked me up early with champagne and fun gifts. I enjoyed having him as my date, and he seemed to fit in with my group.

So far so good. But my family was visiting the following weekend, so we wouldn’t be seeing each other as usual. After spending the better part of a Thursday night together, David gave me a sad look as we kissed goodbye.

The following evening, I started getting odd texts from him. Was he drunk? Then he began to call repeatedly. I turned off my phone and went to sleep.

By the following morning, he had called me six times. We had a brief conversation and he told me he had taken an antianxiety medication that didn’t agree with him.

He went dark for a few days. When he resurfaced, we met to discuss his disturbing, uncharacteristic behavior.

He looked terrible. Pale, with haunted eyes.

“Thursday night when we were standing in the kitchen, I realized that I was falling in love with you,” he explained. “I almost couldn’t take it and slid into a crushing depression.”

He wept right there at the bar.

I admired David. He’s smart, successful, and kind to me and my children. But first and foremost, I needed someone stable.

“Will you give me another chance?” he said. “I’m treating it, and I already feel better.”

“I’m sorry, but no,” I said. “You focus on getting well and check back in in a few months.”

We got into our cars and headed in opposite directions. I felt disappointed but also relieved.

Besides, there was more where that came from.

Within days, I got a call from It’s Just Lunch.

“Archie owns a tech business, has two grown daughters and has been to over 100 countries!” said Brandi in her up-tempo, Price Is Right cadence. “He’s excited to meet you! When are you available to meet?”

Stay tuned.