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2006-11-16 @ 2:50 p.m.
at last?

So there appears to be some interest in my third date with Handyman, aye Stepford? Gah. Stop! You’re making me blush! Although, first things know those anti-anxiety pills that make large pharmaceutical companies so much money? I’ve really been helping this last week!! Because I was a total basket case the day of my third “formalized date” as Handyman put it. I kept wondering...what is a formalized date? Do I have to wear clean underwear and deodorant now? What? Okay, maybe in the back of my mind I was thinking of the “Third (coughsex) Date” thing. I wasn’t really ready for that. I haven’t really dated anyone seriously since the 80’s. And even though I do have a very, very, VERRRRY special relationship with B.O.B. (battery operated boyfriend), it doesn’t mean that I’m quite ready to have someone “without batteries” and a social security number to start touching the goods. Why? Because I’m like the Towering Inferno of Angst. I need to take things very slowly.

Fortunately, I had an appointment with “A” Tuesday morning. “A” IS the Doctor O’Love. Did I ever mention this? He really missed his calling. Truly. This whole Handyman thing is now Subject #1 at our sessions. Unemployment? Meh. Depression. Fugedaboutit! witty’s love life? 25 minutes of intensive coaching and encouragement. But I do need it. I admit it. And he’s good at it. Lots of practice, evidently. You know how Aries men are. He even told me three things that men like on a date: Women wearing perfume. Breath mints. And....and...bloody hell, I just couldn’t remember the third one was for the life on me.

Heh, she says nervously. That’s a joke, by the way. He didn’t say that.

And poor “A”. I’m so incredibly insecure about how...umm... “great” I am, I asked a man, not as my therapist, what my best physical feature was and what my best personality feature was. Physical was my eyes and my personality feature was a “good heart”. I was surprised by that one. I thought for sure it would be my primo ribald sense of humor, but I guess I can live with that. And it made me feel good, which I haven’t been doing much lately, due to being unemployed and staring out the window a lot.

And when I was leaving, he said he wanted an e-mail about our date. What a nosy-crantz! But that is so “A”!

The rest of the afternoon I had various appointments and participated in the eating of various sugary products to lull me into unconsciousness. I watched yet another British movie on DVD. I’m going through a Jim Broadbent phase for some reason. As time grew closer I called my mom..possessor of 4 husbands. Blah, blah, blah. Just talk to him. I hung up. Got ready, making sure I emphasized my fabulous eyes. And suddenly, oh my God, all my clothes were off and I was having a rather highly charged quick date with B.O.B. (battery operated boyfriend). And he was rather...

randy, baby!

....with his new “C” cell batteries! In fact, he was so loud, he sounded like a freakin’ B-52 Bomber coming in for a landing at Vandenburgh A.F.B.


Jesub, witty, your date’s arriving in 30 minutes...can you wrap this up....VVVvvvvvVVV. Finally it was “Houston, we have a lift-off”, and I was able to virtually spring off the bed, get re-dressed (why are you doing this right before your date, you damn geekazoid??) and my goodness, I just looked “gee-I-just-had-sex-but-unfortunately-you-weren’t-here-to-enjoy-it-with-me” in the mirror. Guardcat just looked at me in disgust. Slut!

Finally about 7:30, Handyman knocked at the door. I let him in.*

* Let it be known, that on November 14th 2006, that witty let a man walk into her door...and possibly into her life. Okay, so noted. Continuing on....

Handy immediately won mega-points by going over and scritching Guardcat under the chin until she started purring and rolling over going, scratch my belly, scratch my belly. Now who’s the slut, huh, guardcat? Note to self: I wonder if that works on 48 year old women?

He immediately plunked himself down on the couch which is kinda funny since my couch doesn’t have any legs and its really low to the ground and I don’t think he was expecting that. Heh. So we talked for a while. I then showed him all my various paintings around my apartment, and rather than just breezing through them, he looked at each one thoughtfully and asked questions about them. He then found one he actually liked, a Kandinsky abstract thingie I painted last Spring in my YMCA class. He asked me to explain what it meant. I had no idea. I made up some wacko wittykitty story about a mermaid who wanted to go to a shopping mall to buy a taco but had no feet.

I was getting hungry though. I usually eat dinner between 5-6 and it was almost 8 p.m., and I HAD burned like 3000 calories with B.O.B., so we finally left for the restaurant. We had a very leisurely 3 hour chat and dinner. We were the only people in the restaurant part. And he had more questions. Man, that guy should work for the CIA. A couple times he said I didn’t have to answer something if I didn’t want to, but the reviews are in and in an e-mail today he said I have candor and that I’m candorous (a word he made up, by the way. He’s a very good writer). But yay me, I think. And he’s also buying a painting. And we might have possibly kissed in the car afterwards. Just a tiny one. Eek. And as we were leaving the restaurant, my absolute favorite song came on. What is it? “At Last” and it goes something like this...

At last
my love has come along
my lonely days over
and life is like a song

Too soon probably, but I am somewhat hopeful of things to come. :-)

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty