CHAPTER SEVEN- WALTER

The first man I met was named Walter. Walter said that
he was five-nine, one hundred seventy pounds. He was very
friendly and chatty. He loved to talk about his previous dates
through the service. I noticed, however, in his conversations he
always seemed to meet these women at his home or theirs and he
said that they were intimate on the first date. I finally pointed
that fact out to him. I thought he was trying to paint a picture of
himself as an irresistible hunk. He picked up on the fact that I
was not impressed, by the seeming promiscuity, so he quickly
reversed his position. He said that he did not always sleep with
women on the first date, but that when he did he gave one hundred
percent of himself. How? In my mind, if you’re screwing every
woman you meet without benefit of an established relationship,
you can’t be giving one hundred percent to anyone. It did not
make sense to me, but then most men don’t.

I had not met Walter face to face yet. It was Walter that would
remind me. If you hear something in the conversation that doesn’t
seem right, do not ignore it. It will surely come back to bite you
on the ass. Walter laughed a lot and I really mean a lot. I like to laugh too; I believe that laughter is food for the soul. So I often would make a joke or relate a funny story. But Walter laughed all the time and it was a weird kind of laugh. Sometimes, I would think to myself, ‘Well, it wasn’t that funny.’ He soon became anxious
for a face-to-face meeting. I was not, but agreed to let him come
to the airport and meet me for coffee.

Walter was self-employed and worked out of his home. He called before he left the house to let me know he was on his way. He told me that he would be wearing green slacks and a beige shirt with beige socks. “Hmm,” I thought to myself. How many people tell you what color socks they are wearing when describing their attire. I found that just a little strange. About forty minutes after he called, I was summoned to the front office. I checked my makeup, and hair then proceeded to the outer office.

There he was in his entire splendor. He was not five-nine and if he was, so be it. I looked him straight in the eyes and I’m only five-five. Yes, I was wearing heels, but at best they make me five-seven. I greeted him and quickly had him follow me from the office. I guess I must have been born in the wrong century or something. I remember when first impressions were lasting. You did your best to impress someone in the beginning and became relaxed with your attire later on. What happened to those days? After the initial shock of how short he was, I really took a look at him. He wore those green pants that custodians wear. I’m not knocking custodians, my father was one, so let’s not go there, but that’s why I recognized
the pants. The shirt must have been linen, because it was extremely wrinkled. He had on matching baseball cap and his beige socks. He wore “docksiders” that had to have seen action in Jurassic Park. If you ever saw the movie ‘Gremlins’ then you saw Walter. He had a funny little face and that great big shit-eating grin on a much-too-wide-for-his-face mouth. This man had actually told me that women said he was handsome. As we walked to the coffee shop, he giggled and laughed constantly. I had to restrain myself from yelling at him to shut up, that’s how disappointed I was.

We sat down for coffee and he said that I looked exactly like he had pictured me. At least my description of myself was accurate. He told me that I was very pretty. I was accepting the disappointment by then, so I tried to be cordial. I knew this was
the going nowhere. I kept thinking, ‘Let’s just finish this coffee so
you can leave.’

The amateur psychologist in me noticed he still wore his wedding ring. Now from all he had told me, his marriage was bad, really bad. He caught his ex-wife three times, yes three, spread-eagled entertaining men in their home. She was physically abusive to their child. Two years after the divorce and he was still wearing the ring? I had to ask, ‘why?’ He responded that it was just a piece of jewelry and that was all. I did not believe that. I stopped wearing mine six months before I moved out. A wedding ring is a symbol and if you are still wearing it, you are still holding on to something. I had assuaged my curiosity at that point so I dropped the subject. Then he did it, the inevitable, he just had to ask. He looked me intently in the eyes and asked, “If I were to fall in love with you, would you hurt me?”

I sat there thinking, ‘Oh Lord, what next?’ It was not the time to spare his feelings or try to be nice. I simply replied, “Yes.” He did not expect that, he looked shocked. I felt compelled to elaborate. I had no desire to hurt his feelings, but this did not call for evasive action or false hope. “When one person has strong feelings and the other does not, invariably someone will get hurt.”

I gently told him. I ended the conversation by saying that I had
to get back to the office. He walked with me towards the office. I
stopped him at the top of the escalator and said goodbye. He
said he would call, I know he won’t and truly hope he doesn’t.