I'm in my forties. I'm an intelligent woman. I can figure this out. Inhale ... exhale.
This is everything that runs rampant in my mind those few seconds between a man asking me on a first date, and me responding, "Yes, I would like that" in a very calm and controlled manner so he is none the wiser and believes me to be the graceful, elegant woman that I am.
Breathe!
What can I say; I'm female. In general, when it comes to the whole first date thing, admittedly my gender is a little silly and quite pathetic. When a desirable man asks us out for the first time, we have to weigh in if he's worth going through "the process." Yes, gentlemen, there is indeed an entire process. And, only when you are deemed worthy will the craziness begin.
Along with the heart palpitations comes the surplus of questions; that non-stop, relentless voice in the back of our minds that is never satisfied with the answers and never shuts up. We are not delusional, and we are not schizophrenic ... at least most of us. In general, here's how it goes.
Where is he taking me? What do I wear? Do I need a new outfit? Do I need new shoes? If I wear heels, will I be taller than him? How tall is he again? Do I get the ladies out for the evening or will that make me look like a floozy? What if it's a bit "nipply" in the restaurant? Do I like him that much or go for the padded bra? Does my butt look big in these jeans? Does he like cushy butts? He's seen my butt already, so I'm sure it's fine, but ahhhhhh!!!! Those are only the clothing questions. After we females agonize over them in solitude, we call our friends and they rush over to rummage through our closets forcing us to try on every combination possible only to pull us out of our homes and into the closest mall directing us to put certain items back on the hanger because they look better there, to get those pants off because they actually do make our butt look big and - voila! - to finally find that perfect first date outfit that shows just enough cleavage to be classy and sexy at the same time.
Breathe!
On to basic grooming ... do I wear my hair up or down? Did I inspect the roots for gray and do I have time to get it colored? Do I get my nails done? What about my toes? If I'm naked with my legs in the air, how do my toes look? Oh, am I going to have sex with this man after the first date? That's really tacky, so I better not shave because then I'm guaranteed to
not have sex because there's no way in hell he's going to see the five o'clock shadow on my thighs after only one date. But then again ... ummmm ... bra and panties ... maybe not having sex, but wearing the lacy, matching set would make me feel more alluring, and he may see part of them, but ... no, I'm being chic, remember, and just going to wear them to make me more confident not because I'm having sex. Yeah, right.
Breathe!
The date night is finally here, and I've fluffed the hair, shaved every inch necessary even though I'm not having sex, repeat, not having sex. I wonder if I leave the Crest white strips on for an hour if my teeth will look whiter or if it'll just burn a hole in the enamel? Jeez, don't sweat in the new blouse, use the mouthwash, add a few strategic drops of perfume, breath mints and lipstick in my purse, and ... ahhhh!!!! ... answer the door after slamming the bathroom door shut because the sink is full of all that gunk used to make me appear like I always look this natural and have no need for make-up, trip on the carpet snake while chanting, "Don't talk too much; don't talk too much..." lift the ladies one last time, and open door with a casual, bright smile that clearly communicates, "Oh, I was just relaxing in the living room reading a magazine. Was our date tonight?"
Breathe!
And the man is clueless. Why do we put ourselves through this? A man picks up a shirt off the floor (iron, what's an iron?), sniffs the armpits, slaps on some deodorant, looks in the mirror with one eyebrow raised and says, "She wants me" then waltzes out the door. ...
grrrrr.
And, so starts the endless during the date and post-date mind chatter, but I'm too exhausted to go there right now.