Sont-ils Les Morts Romans?
part one:
The call came four days ago.
“Would you like to go to the opera with me?” Ever since I worked on a production at City Opera, I had been pining for any excuse to dress up and drop a couple of bucks on a box seat. I wanted to be, for once in my life, both a real princess and the audience member, not the person in the haphazard pony tail with the dirty finger nails behind the stage.
I was thrilled. I called my best friend immediately. “He asked me to go to the opera! How did he know that I wanted to go?”
“Maybe he read your blog. He obviously really wants to impress you.” She giggled.
“Wow” I said, “I’m so glad I never called him.”
“Very wise.” She concurred. ”And forget about that crap I told you about asking him how he feels. A guy friend told me that was the worst thing you could possibly do.”
Believe it or not, this cheesy conversation really took place. This is how Kimber and I talk to one another in an attempt to reclaim our lost adolescence. Despite some very tragic recent events in my family, having her back in my life, has enabled me to experience parts of those missing pieces of youth, that are well…normal.
Let’s put it this way…I never went to my prom or homecoming. I never brought a guy home to be approved of by my father. I never had anyone hold my hand and tell me that I was precious, without any agenda of sex being involved. I’m a sturdy, self reliant, street wise woman because I have to be, but under this hardened surface is someone who just wants to be loved.
“Jason” and I had known each other for a few years and had recently begun to very, very casually date. I was taking it slow. He was being a gentleman…all the indications of a proper functional relationship were beginning to emerge. He wasn’t someone who I would normally go out with, but that was the point. I was trying something different in an attempt to get it right.
Therefore, this was a major occasion. I needed “The Dress”. I had never owned a real cocktail dress before. I surfed the web to do my research before I stepped into any retail store. I considered the color, the shape, and what I could realistically pull off.Three hours before I was suppose to meet him I raced into a boutique near Rockafeller Center, and accosted a sales girl to help me find my dress. It wasn’t there.
Note to self: What you see on a web site is not always available in the retail store.
I frantically explained the situation and she showed me my options. They weren’t bad. She efficiently brought me my sizes, and I tried them on one by one. I took down my hair, and blonde curls fell to my shoulders. The princess was beginning to emerge.
“You look completely differently.” She smiled.
I ended up buying two dresses…one for back up in case I changed my mind. I also found a pair of suede t-strap four inch heels. $584 later, I was on my way home to shower and primp.
I ended up wearing the alternate dress.
The weather went from balmy to windy and cold in a matter of hours. I put on my coat and headed out to meet him at a restaurant near Lincoln Center. It did not hit me that he never offered to pick me up.
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Comments
I was deeply offended by this blog. I happen to know Kimber very well and she does not have “cheesy” conversations! She always charming, sophisticated and brilliant! (=
Seriously though, you are much better off without Jason. He rather sucks (and not in the good way) if you ask me. You need a man, and I use the term loosely who will be considerate enough to walk by your side for God’s sake! One who will discuss dinner options before the extravagent restaurant visit. Anyway, you know all of that, I just want to get my jabs at Jason in as well.
One thing you should do next time you’re on a date is voice your own options and opinions. Tell him you already spent enough money on your outfit and that you’d rather have Sushi. Discuss how and who will pay up front, and don’t let him order for you, you are a big girl and you know what you like to eat; (I got the impression that he thought you didn’t like his choice, maybe it hurt his manly feelings?) Last but not least under no circumstances should you leave your meal unattended (ha! ha!). If you do tell him not to let the waiter take it, that you’re not finished yet. Good advice, however unneccissary. I just feel that if you let him make all the decisions and be totally in control, then you are relinquishing a part of yourself. I feel that in essence you are giving him permission to walk on you and be a jerk. It’s one thing to be a princess and another thing to be a woman who knows how to make up her own mind. End of lecture. You are right though, men should treat us ladies like princesses, but they should also treat us like human beings, with respect, dignity and common courtesy. We deserve no less!
To all of you men out there–pay attention! You have no idea of the extremes we women go through merely to please you. We love you, so take notice and stop taking us for granted!
Posted by: Kimber | October 25th, 2006 10:51
You didn’t miss much by not attending your prom. Mine sucked. It was supposed to be my “princess” moment, but ended up being absolutely terrible. Things started out okay, he picked me up, we went to dinner with several other couples, not very romantic, but it was high school after all. We get to the Hilton or where ever it was and I went to find A_ and A_ who were also attending. My fabulous date preceded to ignore me all night– not even one dance. He then danced the last dance of our senior prom with another girl, a girl that he knew I was not particularly fond of. Jerk, jerk, jerk! Did I mention that he was a jerk? A_ suggested that I go home with Jeff and her. I would gladly have done so, had I not wanted to yell at my wonderful date. Needless to say, I guess we broke up that night, although he never said that he wanted to. The first day back to school my friend M_ comes up to me and says “I’m sorry to hear about you and jerkface.” (Okay he did’nt actually say jerkface). I said “what about it”? He says “that you broke up.” I say “I didn’t know that we broke up.” So, this is actually how the creep breaks up with me, he gets someone else to tell me! Ahhh….high school.
A_ and A_ also had a terrible prom. A_, not because Jeff was a jerk, but because she got food poisoning from her dinner and A_ because she went with her ex-boy friend, eminent catstrophe, but she already had her dress, etc…
My point being proms and opreras aren’t always what there cracked up to be!
Posted by: Kimber | October 25th, 2006 11:17