The Flat-Faced Dog Lover

His on-line dating profile boasted more photos of his dog than of him. Single guys love their pets, I figured, and that’s sweet. Plus we had two very nice, lengthy phone-conversations. Fred was educated, kind, liberal-minded, and a good decade younger than me. This, a refreshing change. 

So it was with rising optimism that I parked my car at the tea house. And then it was with deflated dreams that I watched a scrawny, casually dressed man step out of his beat-up gray Mazda. A shadowy figure dominated the passenger’s seat, and I realized it must've been his beloved canine.

I stepped into the tea house, and Fred immediately approached. He had a flat face. Presumably, he still does. But as we sat across from each other in a comfy booth, the man grew on me. He’s a fairly easy communicator, I thought. He met all the main criteria in dimmed lighting - which gave his face a semblance of dimension.

The bill came. “Do you want me to pay my part?”

“If it makes you happy.”

Well, it wasn’t going to make me happy, and I only had tea. So I quietly allowed Fred the full opportunity for happiness. 

As we meandered towards my car, I learned that his dog, Heidi, was waiting for him. “We go everywhere together. It’s what we do.” Before I could register the oddity of Fred's enmeshed relationship with a female dog, he enveloped me in a warm embrace – the kind that got me worked-up and wanting more.

I got home and texted: “Thank you for a very nice time.”

He responded: “Would you like to get together for dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

We made plans for date #2.  

To be continued in the next few days.