Newly divorced and excited to jump head first into the dating world, I was thrilled when Jeff, a friend’s 40-year-old cousin asked me out. While I don’t usually go for younger men, I figured, I’m not looking to get married, might as well have some fun.
We went out a few times, and we did have fun. So when I received an invitation to my friend’s Versaille-like country estate for a day of biking, swimming and BBQ, I invited Jeff to come along.
He picked me up for the 2-hour drive at 9am, in his red convertible, of course. It was a beautiful day, and we headed out on the open road. As we pulled onto the highway, he leaned into the backseat, opened a cooler and pulled out a bottle of vodka.
“Let’s party!” he said.
“It’s 9am!” I was shocked.
“That’s why I brought orange juice to go with it,” he said as he unscrewed the cap.
I snatched the bottle from him. “I’m not going to start drinking first thing in the morning.”
Instead of looking disappointed, he simply said, “I was afraid you might feel that way, so I brought some pot, just in case.” Gotta love a man who comes prepared.
So there I was, stuck in a car with a guy who was too young for me anyway, talking him out of getting wasted while driving. When I’d finally convinced him that I was serious about not being interested in “partying,” his lower lip quivered and I thought he might actually cry. “Really?” he said. “I planned this all week. I thought you would think it was really fun.” I felt bad at first, but then came the visions of being pulled over and arrested for DUI and possession of illegal drugs as we crossed state lines. There goes my legal career…
The remainder of the trip was pretty much silent, and so awkward that I considered reaching for the vodka just to ease my pain. The only thing worse than the car ride was when we finally got to the party, and I had to introduce this moping jerk to my friends and colleagues as my date. The silver lining: he eventually passed out by the pool and I rode back to the city with friends. For all I know, he’s still there.