In part one of this stormy disaster story, the date was spiraling downward – The Three Stooges are singing, and Mr. right looks more like Mr. Magoo now, that silly, lonely guy destined to be with a woman who acts like a control freak and eats way too many sweets and is packing on the pounds like everyday is Thanksgiving, without the thanks!
I look over at Mrs. Sour-puss and notice she has a piece of lint on her arm. I do the primal grooming thing – I reach over, and pluck it from her milky-white, smooth-as-silk skin (give me a break!). She quickly cries out, “Oh, you finally touched me!” A light bulb goes on in that melon on top of my shoulders. I say to Uma, “If you were not ready to be touched, I could have turned you off” I look at my wrist as if I am eyeing an imaginary watch and say to her, “We’ve only been on the date three-and-a-half hours” She exclaims, “I didn’t know you were keepin’ time…. what am I, a turkey in da the oven”?
After our little lover’s spat, The Three Singing Stooges turn up the volume on their amps to a screeching glare, and we decide to vacate the premises. As we leave, I lead her down the street a little ways back from the three Elvis wannabees. There are no people dancing, not yet. I have a plan (A man with a plan?). I am going to ask my little pouty-petunia to dance. Could this be the icebreaker to melt Ice queen’s heart, and open the door for everlasting love? Could it be the dawn of the rest of this supermodel’s romantic life? Could this beautiful wild stallion finally be broken and tamed after a lifetime of heartache and misery with all the wrong men?
We are now far enough away from the band that the sound is not grating anymore. They are playing a slow song, one that I like, and I am in the mood for love. It’s still too loud to talk, so I can’t ask her to dance. I coax her to turn and face me. In what seems like slow motion, I reach one hand around her waist, and then the other… she is watching each of my hands as I do this, one at a time, as if to say, “What is this, ooh la-la”! Before you know it, we find ourselves dancing, toe-toe and cheek-to-cheek! There are hundreds of onlookers on the sidewalks lining the street, open bars, restaurants, and on balconies. Nobody else is dancing except the two of us, in the middle of the street! Mind you, this is a woman who said three hours ago that she did not like crowds. Now, everything has changed, transformed, she is the center of attention. Dance like everyone is watching and you just don’t give a hoot! The tables have been turned and the spell has been lifted. Finally, Cinderellas’ Prince has arrived with the lost slipper.
After the music ends, we walk down the street. Uma Thurman takes on a whole new demeanor. Gone is that edgy, snippy, sulking woman. Magically, she is transformed into sweet and serene Uma! Her new found attitude is projecting onto me. I have my arm around her waist and on her back from time-to-time, as we stroll down the boardwalk toward the ocean. My hands are all over her now. We later make our way down a side street. She spots a hidden little bench among the palm trees, a little lover’s oasis, and we sit down and cuddle. With her projecting, Uma’s feminine charm soothes me and makes me perfectly comfortable and at peace. This date has gone from a bad scene of When Harry Met Sally to A Date To Remember. Music plays in the car as we drive off into the sunset toward home, hardly a word is spoken. When a woman falls in love with a man, the games stop. Love conquers all.
When we arrive at her apartment, we cozy up on her love-seat and watch a romantic movie together. At one point, I turn to her and say, “I have rule about relationships: Give your partner affection whenever they want it, you have rights to my body. Anytime you want, you can touch me, poke me, prod me, play with me… reach for me whenever you desire”. Uma replied, “Really”? (Breakthrough!)
At one point, Uma tries to start a tickle fight with me. She just did not happen to hit a ticklish spot, so I faked not being ticklish. Hey, when a bear attacks, you are supposed to go limp, right? The tickle fight was her way of trying to initiate play which would lead to love making. I did not realize it at the time, because that was not my mindset. We had not even had a serious first kiss yet, and this was only date two. In my mind, it was a little early for that.
I was so comfortable with her, I fell asleep in Uma’s arms. When the evening came to an end, I opened the door, spun around, and gave her several kisses that lasted way too long, which is oh-so right!
Did I ever mention dating is a ginormous cat-and-mouse game? All this from a piece of lint, a diamond from a piece of coal. Women are not crazy. Rather, most men don’t understand women. Do you believe it now, Neo?
Two Days After the Date
Now, here is the kicker. A couple days after the second date, Uma texted me, “I don’t think we are working out”. That stung, that was a threat of rejection. I texted something sarcastic back (but not mean – gentlemen, you should never be mean. You should be disciplined and thick-skinned, and treat others as you would like to be treated, regardless of what they do). Her next text was, “No affection, no date” Now, this confused me. On the second half of the date, my hands were all over Uma. For the goodnight kiss, I started at her shoulder, worked my way up her collarbone, kissed her face, and wrapped it up with a long, searching kiss on the lips. In desperation, I asked my wing-woman, the beautiful Kim Basinger look-a-like, “What is she talking about, I was all over her – what more could she have asked for on a second date, Jim Carrey confoosed”! Kim replied, “She wants to know when you two are going to make love!” (Slap forehead!) So, Uma was giving me an ultimatum, “No love making, no date!” How loverly! I cut contact at that point.
My other wing woman, whom I lovingly refer to as the Judge Judy of dating (Jokingly, I once said to Judge Judy, “Mom, you don’t like any of the girls I bring home”. She replied, “So bring home better ones”!) , claimed Uma dropped me. However, Uma texted me the following weekend asking for another date. Then a week after that, Uma tried to friend me on Spacebook. I dropped off the face of the earth when she gave me the ultimatum, I never replied to her again. So I kidded Judge Judy, “Who dropped who now?” Then Judge Judy exclaimed, “My hero!” Today, Uma lives on only in my memories.