After date two with Meg Ryan, we texted on-and-off throughout the week and she called me a couple of times. As usual, names have been changed to protect the guilty! On Tuesday or Wednesday (I forget which day it was), she called and I attempted to set up a date with Meg. She said she was busy during the week and she had a catering job on Saturday. Simple math means she has Friday night and Sunday available, so I suggested Friday night, and she accepted. Why can’t it just be like a normal friendship, why can’t she just blurt out a day, like Friday? It should be that way – a relationship is a friendship on fire.
Additionally, why isn’t Meg inviting me on dates? Some women do ask men out, but only when they really like them. However, I’m going to give Meg the benefit of the doubt, for now, because Meg has initiated telephone calls to me on numerous occasions, and she made some big moves on date one – she got into a strange man’s car, asked if there would be a second date, and the first kiss happened. Finally, I may be beating her to the punch, not giving her a lot of time to ask me out.
Friday rolled around and I put on my swim trunks. We planned a walk on the beach and then a swim in the ocean. I also packed a change of cloths in the car so we could go out to dinner later. I kidded on the telephone that I was a Drewish princess and if there was too much seaweed in the water, I might not want to stay in the surf too long.
I drove to her tropical island home again, rang the doorbell, kissed and hugged Meg at the door, then I plopped down on the couch. I tried to get her cat’s attention again with the Jim Carrey baby-talk routine. Megs’ cats would not come within a mile of Jim Carrey, he’s cray-cray! I can’t blame them!
We walked outside toward the car, and Meg picked a flower from her garden and shyly presented it to me (did a woman just give a man flowers on a third date?). We headed out in Megs’ white fantasy island Volkswagen convertible and headed for the beautiful blue, the beach. As Tattoo would say, “Boss, ze plane, ze plane!” We took a nice walk on the beach and there was a lot of seaweed in the water, and I complained like a Drewish princess about it. “It’s yucky, I don’t wike it, I don’t want it”, I whined. Meg teased me about this, which is good. If she’s teasing me she’s thinking too much about me which means she likes me.
After our walk on the pretty sand where it meets the deep blue sea, we strolled back to the car and grabed a towel, put it on the sand, and we went into the warm, clear, tropical water. We swam out quite a ways and the surf was rough and I body-surfed a little. Meg was teasing me again, throwing seaweed up into the air and saying, “I’m such a Drewish princess!” When she teases too much I just threaten to spank her!
When I started to feel like a giant Prune, I got out of the water and we laid on the beach towel for awhile. I noticed that I did not see any pelicans, and said, “Maybe there are no schools of baitfish around for them to feed on?” However, Meg said that last week, her and her girlfriend were putting small fish that jumped on the sand back into the water.
On the way home, Meg complained about her car stereo and how it only worked intermittently. When I was younger, I was in the home theater business, so I gave her some advice on replacing the radio. I hope she does not expect me to replace it for her, I don’t like buying expensive gifts for a woman before we are a couple. She also mentioned that she has some hand-me-down fishing rods that were her late brother’s, and she was thinking about getting rid of them. I suppose if or when we are a couple I could take them to the pawn shop for her.
When we returned to Meg’s home, she took a shower first. Later, I saw her running between rooms in just a towel. I did not look – maybe! Then I showered and changed, and we headed out to a Mexican restaurant near the intracoastal waterway. We were both eyeing the Enchilada dishes and they had a special one with pumpkin sauce, and the waitress asked if we wanted to try it, so we did. The sauce was like a mild, creamy Verde. We both loved the sauce, so Meg ordered cheese Enchiladas with pumpkin sauce, and I ordered chicken Enchiladas. We both bowed our heads and I said grace at dinner.
On an earlier date, Meg had talked about her last long term relationship with a plumber who had a nineteen year old Drewish princess for a daughter. I originally thought this could be a red flag. I could not understand what her beef was with the daughter, and why that would be enough to kill the relationship? She expanded on the story tonight. She said that his daughter would always crash her and her ex boyfriend’s vacations, and her ex boyfriend would always give in, even letting his daughter or her friends sleep in their room! What a relationship killer. Also, he would let his ex-wife henpeck him. She said she lost respect for him.
I can understand why she broke up with her ex-boyfriend of five years. Obviously, he was wimpy with the women in his life. Respect and trust levels go hand-in-hand with love. As his girlfriend, she could only love him as much as she could respect him; if there is no respect, there can be no love. There is no red flag here.
When dinner was finished, I paid the bill. Meg had paid for the beach parking earlier. We went back to her place for a nightcap. Meg has two cats, both of which hate that fool Jim Carrey. One of the cats I’ve never even seen, she’s always in hiding. Earlier in the week, I teased Meg, claiming that kitty number two is invisible! Yet, Meg took pictures of the invisible cat and sent them to me. Tonight, Meg hatched a plan to coax both her kitties out of hiding – she fed them. Sure enough, that did the trick – for the first time, cat number two, a calico female, magically appeared!
Tired, I threatened to lie down on the couch. Meg quickly fired back, “But you might fall asleep.” After a half-hour, I decided it was time to go home before I wore out my welcome. Meg escorted me outside to my car. As on previous nights, we kissed and held each other. Something new happened this time. After we kissed on the lips, Meg kissed me on the neck! I mirrored her and gave her a wittle kiss on the neck too!
The next night, Meg called me on the telephone not once, but twice. We have been texting all week. I mentioned that I have a Sensurround home theater, and we were talking about music. Consequently, I invited her to come over to my home next weekend to listen to some hi-resolution music videos and watch a horror movie.
I built a terrific, rare home theater in my home, the likes of which can only be experienced in underground theaters – those of the rich and famous, and by those companies who design them. It has recording studio sound with arena-like bass (like thunder). With the new technology of Blu-rays and hi-resolution music videos, it has absolutely gorgeous, life-like sound that will put any commercial theater to shame.
There is only one problem – the Sensurround system is in the bedroom. I have not told Meg this. I’m really nervous about inviting Meg into my bedroom, I’m afraid I might lose my gentlemanly image. The upcoming fourth date should be very interesting. Meg is either going to run out of my house like a skeered wittle girl, or hit the ceiling when she hears the bass! Like Jim Carrey always says, “It’s all ’bout dat sauce, and all ’bout dat bass!”
