Yes, I am calling it a date, not just going out for something to eat.
My favorite restaurant had opened a second location just ten miles away instead of twenty and I wanted to check it out. While the second one doesn't necessarily have the same ambiance as the original which sits half a block from the ocean, and is quite newer, only four months versus thirty-eight years, it was the food that I was craving. And I wanted to compare it to the original. After all, saving ten miles of wear and tear on my car when I'm craving authentic fish and chips, or bangers and mash with a black and tan to chase it, is worth it. The big drawback is the newer location doesn't have the gift shop/bakery next door. So, I will still have to make the trek into Santa Monica for British goods, though I am sure I could find some things locally, if I looked hard enough. Being so near the ocean, though, is a nice bonus for those treks into Santa Monica.
Back to the date. It was a pleasant evening, I enjoyed the company and just being out of the house was incredibly relaxing. In fact, after dinner, I didn't even want to go home. When I had finished the meal, Irish Beef Stew-the Saturday night special, I ended up driving along Ventura Blvd. and eventually went into a New Age bookstore I knew. Not finding anything of interest, with the need for coffee calling, and perhaps something sweet as well, I headed off to find the nearest Starbucks. As I was out of my neighborhood, I had only a faint idea where one was, and I eventually found my way there. This particular one had a counter, so I sat there for a while, sipping my latte, pondering my next move. It was still early, 7:30 PM or so, and any gay clubs wouldn't be opening or getting going for a while, possibly not even for at least an hour or so. I'm usually ready for bed around that time, especially during the school year. Even though this was a Saturday night, I had no excuse for not staying out late, but fatigue was indeed creeping in. To be honest, fear was too. While I seriously thought of going to a club, there are no nice ones here in this part of LA. And if I did, what if someone started talking to me? Was I ready for that? I know I can refuse any unwanted offers, but the bad luck I've had with guys lately has only encouraged me to choose to remain single. I'm not ready for my heart to be a doormat, again. I went home.
In time, I may change my mind about staying single. My past lessons have taught me the more I look for something, the less I find it. I recently misplaced my checkbook and I looked everywhere for it; the place where I knew I last used it, the place where I thought I had taken it, the place where I usually keep it, and when I stopped actively looking; voila, it turned up. Ironically, it was in one of the places I had looked several times. Isn't that the way it usually works out? Stop looking and you find it.
I had a great time on my date with me. I enjoyed being out on the town, so much so, I think I'll do it again, and maybe next time I may take in a movie.
Or even go to a club. Maybe.
There are people who couldn't do what I did; go on a date with themselves. I'm not sure why. Perhaps they're embarrassed to be seen alone in a nice restaurant. Perhaps they might think others might think there's something wrong with them because they're alone in a nice restaurant. Perhaps they can't be alone with themselves or with their thoughts. It is strange, I admit. But, with (almost) everyone having a smartphone these days, you can read a book or a newspaper on an app, or get caught up on some game you're playing. Learning to be alone with yourself is important. It gave me time to look into myself in a setting other than my house, because at home I get distracted by the memories of the past, or the dog and cat need or want attention, food or their meds, and by my future decorating plans. This also gave me an opportunity to relax. And, by treating myself to a night out once in a while is one way I'm learning to love myself again after a couple of difficult years.
|God Save the Queen(s)!|