Uptown Guy

What have I done?? In just five days, I’ll be meeting a man for coffee. The mix of anxiety and anticipation is both frighteningly overwhelming and utterly exhilarating. I feel like a kid again—though the lines of age remain. It’s a true potpourri of emotions, ebbing and flowing, colliding and receding.

After perusing dozens of candidates on the dating website, I clicked on LIKE. The gentleman I “met” online is close to my age—a rather handsome widower who enjoys travel and seems to have built a successful life. Hmm, he checked all the initial boxes. After a few messages back and forth, we set a date and place to meet. Then he sent his contact information—and that’s when the research began.

Wow!! This man, and especially his late wife, were incredibly accomplished and prosperous. Clearly, he’s real—not a “catfisher”—so that’s one critical element handled before I can even start figuring out what to wear to Starbucks.

The day arrives. The weather is clear, cool, and kind. I decide on a bright pink sweater—very me, very colorful. I arrive early, choose a seat facing the front door, and promptly begin to perspire.

When I see him step out of his sleek black sedan, walking a bit stooped (come on, he’s as old as you), and make his way toward the entrance, Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl” starts playing in my head—because this is, without question, an Uptown Guy. The confident actress in me takes over, and we meet.

After a warm hello, he asks what kind of coffee I like, and just like that, date number one begins.

And I’m enjoying it.