My date was a man whose status was labeled separated. That was my first mistake. It’s the unknown of is he getting a divorce or is he going back to his wife. He was a nice guy nevertheless.
He picked me from my house in a beautiful black Mercedes. It was quite plush. We drove to Doheny State Beach and he said we were going to watch firework dancers. They dance with a long string of fireworks and it’s electricifying. I believe it’s illegal but it is still mesmerizing.
He had everything planned out. He grabbed a few blankets from the trunk and a bottle of champagne (another illegal thing on the beach) and some glasses. This man came prepared for us to basically get cited. Alright…well when in Rome I suppose.
So we find a spot on the beach. It’s already dark out and it’s pretty chilly. Divers are in the water hunting for spiny lobster.
The firework show is amateur hour but wonderful just the same. The conversation is flowing well. It’s all going very swimmingly.
And then the waterworks start. Nope not rain. But Niagara of Tears. This man broke down and became the most vulnerable crushed man I’ve ever seen. He missed his wife and children. He exclaimed he only ever wanted to be married to her. He curled up into a fetal position on the blanket and I stroked his bald head as he continued to sob.
I felt bad for him but it was confirmation to me why I don’t date men who are only separated. Plus I’m stuck out there with him because he drove.
Shortly after the waterfall stopped, a cop started to roll through. I’ve never seen a man gain his composure so quickly, leap up, grab everything and hightail it to the car. He even had the gumption to go talk to the police officer about the beautiful weather we were having.
We get in the car. I’m still a little sandy and he turns to me and says:
him: “Wanna have sex?”
Yea….no thank you.