Page 15 of Alarm Fatigue

Really? Do you know you are saying that out loud?

“Um. Thanks, I guess?”

“You’re so welcome.” He winks again and actually seems to be sincerely believing that his winks are charming. I actually sit on my hands to keep from throwing my water in his face. On second thought…

“Actually, Jacob, I have a question about that.” Why not? I am never going to see this man on purpose again. Maybe in a few years as a patient for liver failure, but not in this setting. Might as well dig in and ask.

“You have me curious. Why wouldn’t you find someone closer to your age attractive? What is it about a woman getting older that is a problem for you?”

“You know.” He pauses to look me up and down for a moment. “It is just that everything starts to sag.” With that, he actually demonstrates sagging breasts with his hands. Bless him. “It gets so that you have to have sex in the dark, you know?”

Okay, I am sorry I asked after all.

Thank God the food arrives to stop this train-wreck of a conversation from proceeding further. Amalie most definitely owes me a second bottle of wine at this point. We launch into a deeply awkward silence, at least for me it is. The food, however, is delicious. I have a perfectly cooked steak, with braised cauliflower and grilled asparagus on the side. If I was with a friend I would talk about how much I am enjoying my food. But I do not want him to get the wrong idea and think that I am experiencing any pleasure in his presence.

He has hardly said a word during the meal so I am completely floored when, during dessert, he gives me another wink and then proceeds to proposition me. Of course the preemptive wink was a big clue.

“Listen, my place is not too far from here, if you want to catch a ride over with me?”

“Oh. I am okay, thanks. I have work tomorrow and honestly I think you should really reconsider whether or not you should be driving.” Of course my shift is at night but he is on a need-to-know basis as far as I am concerned.

“Well, I didn’t ask for your opinion actually.” He somehow slurs ‘actually’ into four syllables. “I should have known this would be a waste of fucking time.”

Nice. I wonder then how surprised he will be when he has grown old alone, the woman who appreciates him having never materialized. He is still talking.

“Well, thanks for nothing then.” At this point his words are nearly all slurred together. “You should be thankful I even offered. Usually my dates are at least twenty years younger.”

“So you mentioned. So listen, I am going to go to the restroom. Don’t be surprised when I do not return to the table.”

“Whatever. You do you, Raina.” Right. He does not even know my name, but luckily I will not ever have to work through that with him. It seems dramatic exits are going to be my new thing, if two of these three dates are any indicator. I grab my purse, retrieve my coat from the coat room and do not even pretend to go to the bathroom on my way out to the street. I order a car before I send a text to Seth.

Me: Hi there. I know we agreed to

another dateand I have just gone

through my schedule and would

love to get scheduled

I guess Jacob Gold has had one positive effect on me. I did not rewrite my text multiple times, or over-analyze it, or delete it three times before sending. I just wrote the text and sent it, like a well-adjusted person might do. I tuck my phone away, wondering how a second date with Seth will be.

For some reason that I cannot begin to fathom, this brings Mark to mind. I think back over our awkward encounters at work. Maybe we should have talked things out as he had tried to do. Then again, maybe not. Trying to push Mark from my mind, I think back to what Jacob had said about driving to his place. I go back in and speak with the hostess and bartender about how much he had to drink this evening before we even arrived. The three of us agreed that he probably should not drive his car home tonight. I am walking back out the doors just as my ride-share pulls up. I confirm the license plate and hop in when Seth sends a message back.

Seth: I was hoping to hear from

you—how about the next Sunday

that you are off work we can definitely

take my boat out as discussed I will

call you tomorrow to iron out the details.

Me: That sounds great. Talk tomorrow.

I think about the last few hours and Jacob’s incredible ability to transform himself into the least attractive man I could imagine while his opinion of himself only seemed to grow. That is a trait I recognize all too well.

My father was the same. Sometimes, as he drank, he really did become more charming. He could be funny and he was certainly handsome. Other times, he only thought he was charming when he was in fact just being mean or inappropriate. And if your face did not reflect the admiration he thought he deserved, it could cost you dearly. It certainly was a price my mother paid regularly. Until she paid the ultimate price.

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