Monday, June 09, 2008

It's all good...or is it?

He had sandy hair, a nice smile, no wedding ring and best of all, was in my age group! Okay, maybe I was a bit more receptive to his advances because I had had the pleasure of watching my Cubs emerge victorious on a beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon and was celebrating at my favorite post-game watering hole.
Since no one but me goes to a baseball game alone, I knew he wasn't sharing my post-game fete. So what brought him here?
"You," and he smiled. "You drew me here. You're beautiful."
Okay, now I was starting to feel uncomfortable. Like I do whenever someone compliments me.
He ordered a beer and pulled out a credit card. This area of the bar doesn't take credit cards, so I pointed out the closest ATM and tried to think of a new topic to deflect whatever embarrassment he might feel.
While he was gone, an elderly man walked up to me and asked if I'd like to join his group, seeing as I was here alone.
"Thanks, but no thank you."
Cash in hand, he returned and wasn't embarrassed. He seemed content to just stare at me and tell me I'm beautiful (he didn't seem drunk), so I naturally turned the conversation back to him to keep my head from exploding from the flame heating my face.
My reporting days have served me well over the years and as I tried to find out more about this guy (other than he doesn't carry much cash), the cracks started to appear.
He said he had a place in Wicker Park, but later in the conversation, he mentioned that he just felt like he had to get out of the hotel and come here.
Hotel?? What about the place in Wicker Park? Answer: he rents it out.
Hmmm...
So what does this gypsy do for a living? He sells printers. And his father was a military guy so he grew up everywhere with no particular place to call home.
Okaayy...
He wanted to go somewhere else...with me. He didn't know where, just someplace else. I got the feeling that he didn't feel comfortable in a place where I knew everyone.
The game was long over, so the bar wasn't nearly as crowded and one of the bar employees had just bought me a drink. I wasn't ready to leave yet.
"It's all good, " he said (for the umpteenth time). "Nice to meet you."
Then he kissed my hand and left. Just like that.
No phone number, nothing.
Oh, but I did have someone ask for a business card or just my name and number.
Remember the elderly gentleman?
No kidding.