DOES YOUR DAUGHTER KNOW YOU ARE GOING OUT DRESSED LIKE THAT

Out and about pandemic style, I’m wearing a four layer mask (two coffee filters squished into a double cloth mask). My eyes are extravagantly made up, as in false eyelashes and liquid eyeliner. Meg, my voluptuous two dates per weekend friend and I are visiting the local watering hole. As we pull up to the destination, we noticed that snow is slowly accumulating. Getting out of the car and heading inside, we think safety, not sexy. Meg’s arm was in a sling, thanks to a recent fall.  And I was using a cane, having had a fall two weeks ago that gave me a concussion. We walked, holding onto each other for dear life, and cackled. Cackled, not laughed or giggled. None of our children or grandchildren would be happy with what we were up to, but they also would not be surprised.

Once inside we commandeered a socially distanced high top and ordered drinks. I ordered a Mom-Tini, a weak martini in a very tall glass with lots of ice and olives. The cute, very young waiter, with a beautiful head of hair brings me a straight up martini in very large martini glass, more than twice the amount of vodka I am accustomed to. I would have sent it back but something inside me said not to, I might embarrass the waiter. Once a Mom, always a Mom.

Our evening progressed normally. I heard all about Meg’s two dates and helped her strategize her next moves. We talked about the number of times I hid, then unhid, my dating profile this week and what age should I say I am. Business as usual.

As Meg’s eyes were glazing over at my machinations of online dating, the next thing I knew she had caught the attention of a forty something year old gentleman sitting at the bar. Everyone seemed to know him, presumably because of the great twinkle in his eye and his friendly demeanor. Personally I have not picked anyone up at a bar since my early 20’s, so if anything was going to happen, it was going to have to be the Meg Show. She has the moves, she has the patois. Assessing that the situation called for more alcohol, I did my part by ordering another Martini, grown up version.

Our new friend introduced himself as Scott. He shared some of his vital statistics: recently divorced, sharing custody of a moody 15 year old boy, his line of work (sales). Showing a great deal of class, he did not talk about his ex in derogatory terms, nor whine about his life. Soon enough, though, he moved in for the kill. “You guys are both so attractive. Diana, Meg is younger than you, but you are a true knock out”. Meg, of course, is the knock out, which is why he could say this and get away with it. Grr, but I am the funny one!

 Soon enough Scott had Meg’s phone number, which neither of us thought too much about. He left shortly after, and so did we.

The next day, Meg told me that Scott texted her “at least 30 times” that night, asking her to his house for a hot tub. Apparently she relented, which might seem dangerous but remember we are in a small town (population of 1366). Everyone, including the bar owner, seemed to know and like our Scott. Oh, and he lived with his parents. So at about 1 AM, early Sunday morning, 63 year old Meg is wearing a string bikini and sitting in the tub with a buck naked Scott, having a great great time. How they socially distanced, I do not know. Had I been in that hot tub, well, that would never have happened. This is probably why Meg has all the dates-she is fun, she takes risks. “Diana, you should be more spontaneous”, she says. But if I was sitting naked in a hot tub with a man I did not know, it would have been because he kidnapped me.

Ridiculously I did wonder why he did not text me (what does she have that I don’t have, remember those feelings?), but then remembered he never got my phone number. I was starting to feel better until I realized he and I did exchange numbers-he was right there at the very top of my contacts list because of the spelling of his last name (he even gave us his last name?). That was a little owie-a minor concussion on my self-esteem, but survivable-I’m the funny one!

So the weekend tally stands, Meg 3, Diane 0. But, in the interests of competition, I did unhide my Match.com profile for a full 24 hours and got one email from a not too scary looking guy. I’m back in the game!  And there is even a moral to the story. You are never too old to feel like you are back in Middle School.

MORE TO COME