It's in His Kiss, Annie Oakley

When I was married, it was to a man who deceived me for years, before I saw the truth.  I had always thought I was a good judge of character and of men, yet I had believed my husband’s lies because I didn’t want to doubt him.

My post-divorce truth: I no longer trusted myself to be a good judge of character or of men. 

I began talking to a software salesman. He was up front that he was mostly looking for a friend with benefits and I wasn’t ready for more than that.  It seemed like it could be a good fit, if he really matched his descriptions.  He did.  However, no matter how great he sounded – in both text and photos - I never really got much hint of chemistry.  I convinced myself to give it a chance anyway.

It happened like this.  We would chat spurts of light-hearted banter and then things would go silent.  Then one or the other of us would reach out again - usually him, after several days.  He invited me to go see a band with him and I accepted.  The day of our date we texted.  He was at a work function and wasn’t sure what time it would end, but still wanted to go to the show.  After a few hours, his event was still going strong so he cancelled on me.  I was a little irritated, but I understood. 

A few days later, he offered to take me to dinner to make up for cancelling on me.  I accepted, but then he suggested that I could have him over afterward for a private dessert. 

‘Uh, hrmm’ I thought. 

I took this as poorly veiled code for “I’ll take you to dinner and then we can go over to your house for sex.”  In case it’s not obvious, we had never met in person.  I made it clear that that was not going to happen and refused to come meet him.  He later told me that he had been miffed because that wasn’t what he meant, but when he showed our texts to a friend’s wife she immediately understood why I took it that way.  So, he tried again.

By this point, I wasn’t as interested as I had been.  His personality didn’t seem like it was a good match with mine.  I’m not saying I thought anything was wrong with him, but I wasn’t excited about him.  When he reached back out to me, we made plans to meet at a crawfish boil at one of Austin’s outdoor live music venues.  I love crawfish.  He had me at crawfish.  Plus, I still wanted to find out if there was anything here.  After all, those pesky carnal desires need a little bit o’ somethin’…

The weekend of the crawfish boil, there was a torrential downpour and the event was cancelled.  We called off the date and our conversation went silent.  I decided that dating him wasn’t going to happen because the conversation was seeming a bit forced, our personalities were at odds, and our plans kept not happening.

After a few weeks, he reached out to me again.  He said that he really had been interested in me, and that he would at least like to meet.  I almost said no, but then I realized something - I doubted my instincts about men, and I needed to test them.

I agreed to meet him for lunch one Saturday. 

Saturday morning arrives.  My stepmom calls me.  Keep in mind that I’m from Texas.  Texans have guns.  At least my father had plenty, and my siblings and I were fed gun safety from the time we could walk.  My stepmother needs me to come help her unload my father’s handguns because she doesn’t feel safe having them loaded in the house and she no longer has the hand strength to unload them without accidently firing them.  

I get ready for my date with Mr. Software and then knowing that a couple of my father’s handguns are revolvers, I sit and watch some videos to refresh how the releases on his revolvers work.  Fortunately, for our date Mr. Software and I had picked a Tex-Mex restaurant that was not overly far from my parent’s house. 

When I arrive, I find him seated at the end of the bar.  He’s cute.  His pictures had shown that he was cute, but they didn’t do him justice.  This was a handsome man who greeted me warmly.  Honestly, I liked him better than I had thought I would.  The wait for a proper table was long so we decided to keep the seats at the bar and just order from there.

We sit and I apologize for being late.  I explain that I have an appointment at my parent’s house to unload guns after lunch and that refreshing gun safety is why I’m late.  He looks at me sideways with an unreadable look.  I guess guns are a dodgy first date subject – who knew?

After a moment, he says, “What are you, Annie Oakley?” as he cracks a smile.

It makes me laugh.

We order margaritas and nachos to share and get lost in easy conversation.  I’m surprised at how comfortable we are, after all of the misalignment to get us to an actual in-person meeting.  I learn that he can relate to the fact that I’m a member of the sandwich generation because he is too.  We talk about our parents and children.  We bond over some dating arena horror stories.  We talk about hobbies – aside from being Mr. Software, he’s a foodie and a bit of an amateur chef.  He is easy-going and his company is enjoyable.

I like him, and even though I’m not feeling much real attraction, I begin to think that maybe my instincts were wrong.  I mean, my terrible instincts are unreliable, right?  After chatting through the main chunk of the lunch rush our conversation begins to wind down.  Our nachos are long gone, and our glasses are empty.  It’s good timing to wrap up a good date. 

He offers to walk me out so I can go on about my gun-toting wild west ways.  I smile and he motions me to walk toward the door and then falls in behind me.  He walks me most of the way to my car and I turn toward him to say goodbye.  I move to hug him and he plants a kiss on me.

Have you ever heard the phrase, “It’s in his kiss?”  Yeah, I’m a believer in that.  It’s either there or it’s not.

I wasn’t expecting the kiss.  He smashes his lips onto mine, holds the kiss a moment, and then pulls back.  I stand there, blinking.  I’m surprised, not as much by the fact that he did it – this was a good first date – as by the fact that my face all around my lips feels wet.  I’m stunned by what I can’t help but describe as a slippery wet fish feeling. 

I thank him for lunch, awkwardly hug him quickly, and cross the remaining distance to my car.  I’m thinking that while I couldn’t have known that the date would end quite this way, I had already realized that he wasn’t for me before we even met.

As I turn toward my parent’s house from the parking lot, I wipe his saliva off my face.

Aaaaaaaalllhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Sigh.  I should’ve listened to my instincts. 

Mmmm.  Pucker up, y’all.