He Really Did What He Said

“ Yes. This is Smokie,” I replied to the man’s inquiry when I answered the phone. 

“This is Boats, from match.  I answered your email the other day saying I’d call when I got to town and so I’m calling.”  It was 10:30 Sunday morning.  Usually I'm at church til 11:30.  Is this Divine Intervention?

He continued “Will you fly to Williamsburg with me for lunch today?” 

“I would love to” I answered quickly.  Then I thought  “How did he know I love flying in little planes?  Oh, no! Suppose he’s Jack the Ripper and I’m in the plane. He could kill me….. You’d better rethink this.”
He continued “ It’s 10:30 now. There’s a window between 11 and 3 so I’ll pick you up.”

“I going to Charlottesville for dinner with friends and I don’t know what time I have to leave.” I said truthfully.  “My friend’s calling later to tell me when to meet.”

“Here’s my number. You call me when dinner plans are settled.”  he replied, clearly a man on a mission. 

With his number jotted on a napkin, we hung up.  I was thinking “Wow! Fly to Williamsburg for lunch is nuts. You can drive there in an hour; how’d he know I love to fly in little planes?” 

I recalled Boats' conversation with Kathleen, my match mentor and friend I was meeting for dinner that evening.  With 3:45 as my departure time, I called Boats back.

We agreed to a lunch meeting at 12:30 at a place his friend owns.  I declined his offer to pick me up – a bad idea for a first totally blind date.  And he could be Jack-the-Ripper.

In front of the restaurant I saw a short man in a yellow jacket and funny cap. “Is this he? He doesn’t look like what I remember. Wish I'd read his profile better.” I thought.

As I approached, he said “I’m Boats. You must be Smokie.” 

“Guilty.” I answered playfully, as we sized each other up, just like 2 dogs in the park.

What did your last Hail Mary get you?

“A girl’s gotta eat, you know.” was my mantra and check point for match guys.    Lunches and dinners with several men were interesting and tested my powers of observation, to say the least.  There was Swimmer, who had shoulders like Arnold Schwarzenegger .  His wife’s death was lengthy and very bad dinner conversation.  He talked about redoing his house to keep busy.  From the shirt he was wearing I can only imagine what his house looks like. 

I called Talker.   He answered his phone while leaving the grocery store.   He ranted with political opinions about every local, state, and national politician.  Attempts to change the subject were unsuccessful as I could barely get a word in edgewise.  After 35 minutes, I was a wild woman, more than ready to get off the phone. His groceries were put away and he was now ready to walk his dog.  Not wanting to be rude (it must’ve been the proper southern upbringing) I jumped in and said quickly “Thanks for taking my call. I won’t take more of your time.”   As I pressed the end button, I heard “Please call again.”

With 2 hours left in my match subscription it was time for my final play.  Not much had changed except an adventure with my intuition and some dinner dates.  With 30 minutes free to wrap up, I scanned the top 6 guys on the list of people who had viewed my profile.    Three met my top 6 checks.  A hasty note to each with “Hi Handsome” in the subject said “You peeked at me.   It’s my last day on match.  Check out my profile and if you like what you see, contact me. Here’s how. ” with email and phone added.   As I hit the send button to each, I said “Wishing you a great life with the gal of your dreams.” 

I had no expectation of results from this Hail Mary. Yet I had to take advantage of one last opportunity  created months earlier when my subscription began.  I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.  And there was no Plan B.