The Burning Question

Singles social events. Are you cringing yet?

The door bell rang. I was decked out. There was a dance and I needed to attract a new crop of men. I was accompanied to the dance by my good friend, Nona, and two beautiful Latin men. But there was an understanding between us - these men were off limits. They were simply the bait.

The dance hall was dimly lit, crowded, warm, with those old familiar 80s tunes invading my brain and increasing the level of anxiety to borderline panic attack as I instantly reminisced about those dances from yesteryear - you know, the awkward years. I was sickened. But my body language told a different story. I casually sauntered about the dance hall within the protective shield of my people. It appeared as though I hadn't a care in the world.

And that's what caught his attention.

He stood out in the sea of awkward fish, towering at least a foot over them all. I spared a quick glance and playfully glided past. One of my own grabbed my hand and twirled me around. I squealed in surprise and giggled, the big fish attempting to discretely move in for a closer look. Despite my awkwardness (I was kicked out of P.E. in 8th grade for being "retarded"), when a man led me on the dance floor, I managed to flow with him every time. The bait dangled me out into the crowd a little and as he reeled me in, the big fish followed, no longer able to contain himself. My partner was tapped on the shoulder and I suddenly found myself in the arms of a new partner.

"Well hello", I teased. "And you are?"

Chuckling he called out, "Randy".

"All righty then, Randy", I called back, offering a half smile and raising an eyebrow in playful reproach.

He successfully dominated me the entire evening and our conversation carried on dance after dance. I conducted the usual interrogation.

And then came the burning question:

"So, how old are you?" I asked, looking him directly in the eyes, demanding an answer.

"I can't tell you", he teased.

"Really?" I replied, releasing my hold and stepping back to examine him. "Why not?"

"Because", he teased again. "You have to go on three dates with me to get that answer".

My shoulders slumped and I furrowed my brow. "What?" I spit out in disgust.

"Come on. It'll be fun", he ventured.

I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot, scrunching up my face. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"I am", he replied with a chuckle.

"Hmm", I held my stance, looking him up and down as though inspecting merchandise. "All right. Let me give you my number then".

And the night ended. And he drove off, leaving me completely intrigued.

Within a few days, my phone rang and it was Randy asking me out. I agreed.

Date #1: Dinner at a nice restaurant, decent conversation, his house.

He led me quickly into his net and I swam along willingly. Randy left only the light by the front door on, entering another room and plopping himself on the couch in the dark. I stopped abruptly, standing exactly on the line that separated the light from the dark.

I could hear the dampened thuds as Randy slapped the cushion next to him and called out from the black, "Come over here, cutie."

I breathed in and held it. Placing my hands on my hips, I released the air into a sigh. "Well, you don't waste any time, do you?"

I could hear his soft chuckling in response.

"Is this part of the routine?" I queried, standing my ground.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean, are you expecting certain things out of me besides three dates before you give up the answer to my burning question?" I leaned against the wall.

"Absolutely", he replied without a beat of hesitation.

I quickly reached my hand up, scratching out an irritating itch on my head and sighed again. "Well, okay then", I pretended to be annoyed. I cautiously ventured into the dark, feeling my way across the room, ready to relinquish my care to a man I barely knew.

I plopped down next to him, very unladylike, and sat there very still, completely silent. I felt his cool fingers caressing the side of my cheek then.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, chuckling again, seemingly uncomfortable with my unwillingness to throw myself at him completely. I had a feeling this guy didn't experience much rejection.

I heaved a quick sigh. "I'm thinking I'm gonna' have to make out with you a bit, so here I am".

His fingers ceased to move on my face, the room remaining silent. Still. Tense. I breathed in quiet, shallow breaths, my chest tightening. Then I felt it - his warm breath on my cheek. And the make out session was officially...in session.

After a few minutes I broke away and jumped up off my seat. "Okay", I said very matter-of-factly. "You got your kiss. Now take me home. I'm tired. It's late."

Fits of laughter rolled through the air and I felt a thud as Randy hit the floor. I stepped back in surprise and squinted in the dark. "Randy?" I called out. "What are you doing?"

The laughing fit continued. I felt my way across the room, moving toward the light, and batted at the wall in search of a switch.

*Click* The light came on and there was Randy rolling on the floor. "You kill me", he managed in a breathless voice. When he finally composed himself, he drove me home, fighting back another fit.

Date #2: Dinner at a nice restaurant, decent conversation, his house.

"Wow", I exclaimed as he pulled into the drive.

"What?" he answered, a puzzled look on his face.

"Running out of ideas already?" I teased, raising an eyebrow and eying him in mock disapproval.

He chuckled and reached his hand over, caressing my shoulder. "Yeah. I guess so. Is this okay?" he asked, a look of concern washing over his face.

"I'm fine", I stated blankly. "Whatever it takes to get my answer".

"Aw, come on. Can't we get past that for a moment? Let's just have fun", he pleaded.

"Fun? What's your idea of fun? Making out with a young lady night after night, leading her further into your trap, adamantly refusing to state your age? What am I supposed to tell my family and friends if this becomes serious and they start asking about you? Are you even going to give me my answer after date number three?" I spit the questions out, one after the other, denying him the chance to respond.

And his lips became sealed. He refused to respond. He sat back against his seat, closed his eyes, drew in a long, deep breath and heaved a sigh. I turned abruptly in my seat, situating myself for the show, and watched him in wonder. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, staring at the roof of his truck. I remained still, contorting my mouth, attempting to hold back a smirk. I watched the Adams apple bob wildly up and down in his throat as he swallowed hard again and again, his jaw tight. He continued to stare directly overhead, frozen. And being the stubborn little bitty that I am, I held my position and waited.

After what felt like an eternity (I would never let him know that. He can't win), he sighed again and turned his head slightly, staring directly into my eyes. "Are you going to be difficult or are we going to have fun?"

"Oooohhhh", I responded - switching gears to fighting mode.

"Nah. I'm just teasin' ya'", he chuckled and slapped his hand playfully at my arm. "Come on. Let's go in." He jumped out of his truck and jogged around to my side as I sat there, maintaining my pose, frozen like a statue, my forehead creasing in disbelief. "Come on", he called out playfully, poking my ribs, causing me to squeal and jump out backwards into his arms.

"Hey there", he half whispered into my ear, his warm breath tickling my ear. I shuddered with a chill.

And so the second date followed in the footsteps of the first.

Date #3: The Big Reveal. Dinner...

We ate at, once again, an expensive restaurant. And the conversation went a little something like this:

Me: So, when do I get my answer? Is it tonight or do I have to wait until the morning after?

Him: You're still on that?

Me: Um. Yeah. You're the one who made up the whole three date rule, so I'm just following along. You better not let me down.

Him: What if I don't answer your question after three dates?

I suddenly felt an angry knot build in my stomach. I was instantly infuriated with this response. And it became quite clear to me at that moment that I cared NOTHING for Randy. I simply just had to know how old this guy was. That's it. That's all I cared about. My curiousity was killing me at this point and because I cared nothing for him, it took every ounce of my self control to not completely blow up at him.

Me: (sighing) Don't make this all a waste of my time.

Him: A waste of your time? Have you not enjoyed spending time with me?

Me: I have. But this is really becoming ridiculous now. I mean, seriously. What's the big deal? How old are you? I've never been in a more absurd situation and I've had a lot of wild dating experiences.

Him: Well...you're just gonna' have to eat your meal and...

Me: (Cutting in) I mean, seriously - what are you? Like 40? (I was 29 at the time).

Him: 40? (He sounded surprised and slightly offended).

Me: Okay, sorry. 35?

He just laughed in response. And I began to heave heavier, more frustrated sighs.

Him: Your food looks good. Do you like it?

Me: You know what? I don't even have an appetite. This has just become stupid. Really. I'm not gonna' run out of here screaming if you tell me how old you are. I've dated a guy who was 16 years older than me. Age doesn't matter.

Him: Oh. Age doesn't matter, huh?

I instantly regretted my last statement. I knew he'd use it against me for life.

Me: Yeah. It doesn't matter. So just tell me.

Him: Well, if it doesn't matter, then you shouldn't need to know.

Me: Well, it does matter because if we were to continue dating and people asked me about the guy I was dating, I wouldn't be able to tell them much.

Him: Oh please. All you DON'T know is my age.

Me: What are you? Some kind of vampire? Is that it? Are you like 50 billion years old and you're afraid your secret will be out?

He began to laugh out loud, drawing the attention of other restaurant patrons even more so than our banter had.

Him: No. That's not it.

Me: Just lie to me then. Just tell me an age so I can shut up and get on with my life.

Him: You just want to know my age so you can go date other guys now.

Me: You know what? You're right. Get the check. I'm done with this.

I sat back in my seat in a huff, folding my arms across my chest and scowling at him the rest of the time.

Finally the meal was paid for and Randy offered his arm as we left the restaurant, which I very coldly refused, brushing past him and storming out. We drove in silence. We pulled in his driveway and I immediately exited his truck, tromping off to my car, keys in hand.

"Kristin! Wait", he called out. "Where are you going?"

"Home!" I shouted at him, completely enraged.

"Wait! Don't go! Please!" He begged.

"What do you want from me? Huh?" I shouted back.

"I just want to spend time with you. Get to know you better", he replied softly.

My jaw dropped, my hand finding its instinctive position on my hip. "Are you kidding me?" I hissed.

"Hey", he called out cheerily. "Wait up. One sec." He disappeared into his garage and came jogging back out holding a basketball. "Wanna' play?" he offered.

"Are you kidding me? Are you KIDDING ME? No, I do NOT want to play basketball. I want you to tell me your age and that's it. That's all I want and then I'm gone. You blew it. This was a stupid idea. You should never try it again if you actually want to have a chance with a woman. Seriously!"

He bounced the ball in place, staring up at the basket. "I bet I could make this shot", he called out playfully.

I growled and jumped into my car, squealing out of his street.

A few days later, there was a five-page letter on my doorstep with an entire case of Special K cereal. I crinkled my nose at it. I had a hunch about where this came from and I was not pleased. Sure enough. It was Randy, expressing his apologies for upsetting me, asking for another chance, and offering the cereal (something I had mentioned I wanted to try - the Special K diet) as a peace offering.

I tossed the letter, ate the cereal and moved on with my life.

*Six months after I was married he called me one day out of the blue. My husband brought the phone to me, stating it was an "old friend" calling. I answered. It was Randy. I told him I was married and expecting a baby and asked him what he wanted. He congratulated me, exclaimed that my marriage and pregnancy were a complete surprise to him and then he actually admitted that he was calling to see if I had cooled off yet and if I would be willing to give it another shot with him. HA!

To this day I do not know how old that guy is. I even went so far as to ask around. Nobody seems to know. And you better believe I gave it one more shot during that surprise conversation, but he held his ground. And I hung up on him.