Life, Love, Dancing...an excerpt - pt 5

Here is the link to part 1 of Life, Love and Dancing.
Here is the link to part 2 of Life, Love and Dancing.
Here is the link to part 3 of Life, Love and Dancing.
Here is the link to part 4 of Life, Love and Dancing.

So, It's TUESDAY and I am back on schedule!
Enjoy part 5!

Time takes on a weird elasticity when most of your life is lived singularly. Workdays seem to drag out endlessly. Free days fly quickly, especially those beautiful, summer days without humidity when you want to be awake from sun up to sun up. You know, those brightly sunny days with fat, fluffy clouds in the sky and low-humidity when you wish that your home had a retractable roof, because there's much to be done, but you don't want to be dressed to do it and much of it requires you be inside to complete it anyway. Thanks to the wonderful weather, I actually lost track of time after exchanging information with Paul. I don't even know if he waited the suggested time frame of three days to call me. Maybe I even forgot that he was real. It was such a dreamy, almost scripted meeting, that just maybe my memory thought I had seen a movie instead of actually met an intriguing man. I went about the business of tending to my life of putting off chores that I hated, writing lists of things I needed to do because writing the list felt better than completing the necessary tasks. Finally disgusted with myself, I tackled what I thought would be the most difficult thing on the list and I was right.

My head was sticking in the oven when my phone rang. Always glad to have an excuse to stop a chore I thought, "I'll just check the caller ID then return the call later."
It wasn't a movie. I really had met a guy and he was calling me, now.

"Hello?"
"Hey, Cameron. How are you?"
"Fine."
"Did I catch you at a bad time?"
I didn't mean to sound robotic, but I am a strange mix of out going and shy. "Uh, no, not really."
"Not really? What does that mean?"
"Well, I'm in the middle of cleaning my oven. But, I can take a break to talk."
"Cool. I was wondering when you would have some time for us to meet up again."
Dammit, here's the end of the fairytale. Now, I'll get to know all the things I don't want to know about him and he'll start to see me for who I really am…not. I'm not that sexy party girl who flirted on the dance floor and floated romantically in the rain with you, Paul.
"Uh, I'm pretty flexible. What works for you?" I wonder if he can hear how nonchalant I'm not feeling.
"Well, how about lunch in the city? Tomorrow work for you?"
"Yea, tomorrow would be perfect for lunch. I hope a late lunch is good, like 2pm?"
"I can make that work. What do you like to eat?"
"I don't eat meat, but do eat seafood from time to time. So, any place is good as long as I can get veggies and seafood." And a strong alcoholic beverage is always good, but I kept that to myself.
"That shouldn't be too hard." Paul chuckled and my paranoia kicked in and wondered if he could hear my nervousness. "Well, I'm not going to keep you from your oven any longer. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."
"Me, too! I look forward to seeing you again." I am relieved that the conversation is over and hope my enthusiasm didn't sound too forced.
I climb back into the oven and let out curses that it's more difficult to clean than even I'd imagined. Crap! I need to take the bottom shelf out, so I get one of the few tools I own and unscrew the bottom of the oven and pull it out. Am I making this more difficult than it needs to be? I wonder as I expose the heat coil - or the thing that looks like it should be called a heat coil because that's where the flames shoot out when the oven is turned on.

# # #

It is noon on Saturday and I have not begun to prepare for the day ahead with Paul. I have spent the morning doing other things on the list because I abandoned the oven project and left its guts hanging out. Thirty minutes into it the grime only seemed to move from one side of the oven to the opposite side. I'd get back to it. I wasn't expecting anyone else to come here anyway. There were clothes to be sorted and washed, papers to be sorted, filed or shredded, books to be read and stories to be written. I had plenty to keep me busy. I didn't need nor have time for the drama of a man in my life right now. What was I thinking when I told Paul that I could meet him today?

"Did I catch you before you left?" Paul sounded out of breathe on the other end of the line.
"Yea, what's up? Everything okay?" I tried to sound concerned as I prayed he was backing out, and then it wouldn't be my fault this time.
"I'm fine, but unfortunately can't make it at 2, like I thought I could."
"Well, that's okay. We can reschedule for another day." Whew!
"If you don't mind can we make it later today, like at 4:30 or 5? Does that work for you?"
Dang IT! I have to get dressed and come out into the world after all? "Oh, yea. Okay. Where should I meet you?"
"Is the West Side okay? Like, around 110th and Broadway? There are plenty of restaurants there for us to choose from."

# # #

It's my turn to make the 'I'm running late phone call.' What is it about first dates that give me more dread than exciting anticipation like they used to? Have I been disappointed that often? Technically, I've had a storybook life of relationships. Sure they all ended, hence my need to continue dating. But, storybooks all end while the getting's good, right? Most of my relationships ended on high notes, even if the fact that they ended did leave a sour taste in my heart. I can proudly say, if I run into any of my exes I can be cordial when I say, "Hello." Well, except for the one sexy bastard whose memory continues to sting a bit, when I see him from a distance I cross the street or pretend I don't see him, Fucker!

As I drive cross-town through Central Park, I realize I could have taken a more direct route to the West Side of The City. In addition to enjoying the ride through the park, I'm "dragging my feet." I'll get there when I get there. Maybe he'll have an attitude and this meeting can end quickly, in a huff! Then, I can return to my safe world as an independent woman.

"Hi? Paul?" I speak loudly into my cell's speaker phone.
"Yea?" He responds.
"Traffic's worse than I thought. So, I'm running a li'l later than planned." That's the beauty of New York's senseless traffic. It makes for a great excuse and who knows if it's true or not. I could very well turn a corner and be stuck in a deadlock, regardless of the fact that I am flowing smoothly, now.
"That's cool because I'm still stuck Uptown, myself. Would you mind coming up to Washington Heights? I know a great place to eat, here."
Oh, Lord. What now? See? This is how they do; get you to set out for one place and then end up luring you elsewhere. What is his deal, anyway?
"Sure! No problem."
I make a mental note of the cross streets he gives and turn north onto Broadway.

*click on image to enlarge and get its source.