I first saw her picture on the dating website I'd just joined. Her screen name was "simplesf" and she was older than me. Much older by my normal standards, whatever those standards might be. I hadn't dated in two years, and hadn't had a sustained relationship in even longer than that. So saying what was normal, and what wasn't, was a guess at best.
But her picture caught my eye. And truth be told I'd always been attracted to older women. Her profile listed her as forty-two, and assuming that was the truth, that made her almost ten years older than me. I don't think I'd ever dated anyone that was more than a few months older than me, and certainly no one a few years older, let alone ten. But something drew me to her picture. There was just something about her. I was hard to describe. To me she had this air about her, an air of sophistication, and confidence, and style. She just had something that most other women didn't have, and it came through even though all I saw was her picture.
Her profile didn't really say much about her. Paired with her picture, her profile made her seem mysterious, which I'm sure only added to my attraction. Her hair was dark, cut into a stylish bob that seemed to frame her face her perfectly. And her deep brown eyes set against high cheeks and fair skin seemed to glow. Other than that, her profile simply listed her as divorced with no children. Physically she was listed as tall and slender. Her location indicated she lived within twenty-five miles of me. She didn't bother list any hobbies, or likes and dislikes, as most of the other profiles seemed to do. At the end of the profile she was characteristically brief as well, stating simply, "What you see is what you get."
I wasn't sure what I was doing. I had only recently decided to try the online dating scene as wasn't sure what to expect. In the past week since I'd joined, I'd sent out about five feelers. I'm sure my profile seemed awkward, and my messages probably did too, and so far I hadn't had any luck. Of the five messages I'd sent, I'd received only one reply, and she politely indicated she wasn't interested. I didn't expect much when I finally sent a message to "simplesf." I felt awkward writing it, and even more awkward reading it back before I sent it. I briefly introduced myself, included a link to my profile, and mentioned how her picture and profile caught my eye, and that she seemed like she would be interesting to talk to.
My anticipation waned as two days had passed and she hadn't replied. By then I had given up hope. I just assumed she wasn't interested and that I would never hear from her again. I was disappointed to be sure, but I wasn't surprised based on what had happened before. Still I found myself visiting her profile again, staring at her picture, and wondering what she was really like.
After work on the third day since I sent the message I logged into the website, and to my complete surprise, I had a message waiting for me from "simplesf." As I stared at the message, my stomach sank and my hands began to twitch. I was a strange combination of fear and excitement. I paused before I clicked on the message, unsure what I really wanted to see, and even more unsure of what to expect. Finally after what seemed an abnormally long time I managed to click on the message. When it popped up my first reaction was one of disappointment. It was a very brief message and I thought surely would it say she was just not interested. But as my nerves calmed I realized that it simply stated "Tell me more about yourself."
I agonized over my response, taking more than an hour to write two short paragraphs. In my response I did as she asked, and told her more about myself. I told her where I was from and where I grew up, where I went to college, and what I studied. I told her I was as an electrical engineer and worked in the semiconductor industry, and that in my spare time I liked to jog, and read, and drink coffee. I explained to her how my passion was black and white photography and that it took up a great deal of my free time. I tried to be simple and succinct. I wasn't really sure how my message would come off. I had always been awkward and more than a bit shy, and I'm sure that somehow came across.
I must have read the message five times before I actually sent the message, making minor changes each time I read it. Finally I hit the send button and went to eat some dinner.
All through dinner I couldn't keep my thoughts from wandering. I wondered what she would think and if she would even reply. After dinner I checked my e-mail again. Nothing. I must have checked it ten more times that night before I went to bed. I couldn't stop thinking about her. All night I tossed and turned. Finally too restless to sleep I got up to check my mail again sometime in the middle of the night. I didn't expect to see anything but I still had to check. When I saw a reply in my inbox my body immediately reacted. I swear I felt my stomach in my throat as I clicked on the message. Once again it was very short. It said nothing more than "Don't you have any questions for me?"
I wasn't sure what to think. Here I was trembling as I read her message, a thousand thoughts running through my mind. I'd spent an hour writing a message to her, and she spent all of ten seconds replying. I had no idea if she was interested, if she was just being polite, or if she was just teasing me. I spent the next hour thinking of questions to ask her. I had a million questions I wanted to ask. My list grew longer and longer and I tried to cut it down, but as I did I became acutely self-conscious. What kind of questions was I asking? As I read them over and over they seemed silly to me. I wanted to ask all the questions I had written down. I wanted to know the answers. But at the same time I felt embarrassed to ask. I felt like a little boy obsessively asking his teacher questions, trying to win her attention. In the end, I decided to just ask one question. My message was brief and to the point, just like hers had been. I asked "Where does 'simplesf' come from?"
The next day was torture. All day at work I couldn't concentrate. All I thought about was her, and what she would say and do next. I wondered if she thought I was annoying and if she was already bored with me. I left work half an hour early just so I could check my e-mail at home, hoping there would be a response. As I logged in my whole body seemed to tremble, my breath was short, and my fingers twitched errantly as I typed. When I finally opened the inbox, I think my heart must have stopped. Another message awaited me. Like before, this message was brief. But unlike before, this one was two lines. The first line read "simplesf=simple & straightforward." The second line read "Would you be interested in joining me for coffee this evening?"
By now my heart was pounding in my chest. My fingers trembled as I hit "reply." I typed "yes" and asked where she would like to meet and at what time. After I sent the message I went to get something to eat. I made myself a quick sandwich but it was no use. I had no appetite, my mind was elsewhere along with my stomach. After half an hour I couldn't wait any more. I logged in again to see if she had replied.
Her response was customarily brief. She said eight o'clock at Woodrow's Coffee House. I immediately went to get ready.
By the time eight o'clock rolled around my nerves were shot. I was nothing but a frazzled mess. On the short drive over I panicked. I looked down and saw how poorly I was dressed. I felt like a little schoolboy in his schoolboy uniform. For some reason I wore khaki pants and a plain white button down shirt. As I dressed I thought to myself I didn't want to stand out. I didn't want to create any false impressions. I just wanted to be me. But as usual, I quickly began to doubt myself. What had I gotten myself into? What was I going to say? I already felt awkward and I hadn't even said hello yet. Part of me wanted to turn around and go home, and part of me wanted nothing more than to meet her.
I arrived at Woodrow's five minutes early. I sat at a table inside, near the windows so I could watch the traffic flow by outside. I thought if nothing else, the traffic may give us something to talk about. As my eyes briefly moved to the café's front doors, she stepped through the doors at precisely eight o'clock.
Her profile on the web site was accurate. She was tall and slender just as described. Slender hips. Slender legs. Delicate arms. Small breasts. I immediately wondered if she was actually taller than me. She certainly was in the heels she had on, and I wondered if that would be the case flat footed as well. She was dressed in a navy blue pin stripe business suit. It was perfectly tailored and fit her slender frame extremely well. As she entered, she paused briefly to scan the room. Before I could stand up to greet her, she noticed me sitting at the table. I was glad she recognized me. Part of me worried that my picture on my profile wasn't representative. Knowing that it was and that she recognized me helped calm my nerves ever so slightly.
As she approached me, I stood up to greet her and extended my hand.
"Hello," I said. "I'm Josh."
She took my hand replied. "Hello, I'm Melissa. It's very nice to meet you."
Instinctively I pulled out the chair for her at the table. She sat down immediately as if that was what she expected.
She definitely had a presence about her. The same feeling I felt looking at her picture carried over into real life. You could tell she had a quiet confidence and sophistication about her. And based on her outfit, her sense of style and taste seemed impeccable. I was immediately attracted to her, but at the same time I felt uncomfortable and a bit out of place. It was a bit odd, I didn't feel like I was on a date at a coffee house, but rather her subordinate at a business meeting.
I don't know if it was her age, or the way she carried herself, or if it was simply my lack of confidence and inexperience, but I was definitely drawn to her. At the same time I felt unsure of my place. It was like her presence reached across the table and grabbed me.
The waitress soon came and took our order, and as she did I found myself looking across at her. Her picture did her justice as well, although up close and personal she did look slightly older than her picture. Crow's feet had quietly begun to creep around both her eyes and mouth, but instead of detracting from her appearance, in a way they seemed to enhance it by adding depth and character to an already exquisite face. With the way she presented herself, she would have seemed awkward with the face of a twenty-five year old. But as she was, her face seemed to project her personality perfectly.
Our chat began slow. I found myself intimidated and it seemed like I was looking out the window and into the street more than I was looking at her. Once the coffee arrived and I had a few sips, I began to settle down. At the same time she began to grow a bit more talkative.
I asked her about her work, and she explained how she worked in advertising. She talked a bit about what she did exactly, what she liked about it, and what she didn't. Overall, the feeling I felt from across the table was very cordial. I have to say, she dominated the conversation, leading it were she wanted to go and setting the tone. I simply followed her lead in what felt like a very natural way. As the time wore on, I found myself becoming more and more drawn to her. The way she smiled at me, the way she looked at me just seemed to suck my in effortlessly. Even though the conversation didn't take on a sexual tone in any way, I nonetheless found myself wondering about her. Imagining what she would be like. Wondering how she would act. How she would look. The sounds she would make. But it was strange, as my thoughts turned sexual in nature, I felt more and more intimidated by her. The subordination I had felt when we first sat down never seemed to go away. If anything, it seemed to increase.
