caramel latte

I am venturing out of my normal in honour of my date last tuesday. Caramel Latte at Starbucks. It is warm, smooth, and sweet just like my date was, it also might keep me up most of the night. However this caramel latte probably isn’t going to cook me a paleo/Thai Dinner, rub my feet, twirl my hair and make me laugh. I mean, it might, but I’m not holding my breath. Oh, and smart, my date tuesday was smart, this caramel latte hasn’t read much.
Caramel latte (the man) met me on friday but was late. He texted all weekend and asked if we could reschedule for monday, I agreed, and then changed my mind. Monday I took a personal day. How about tuesday? I was stalling. Thinking maybe he would lose interest. I mean don’t get me wrong, very cute. Tall dark and handsome, personable, sparkling smile but I was convinced he just wanted to bang. What had me convinced? The sexually charged texts. Previous experiences. The dick pic I got this week although not from him made me feel objectified.
He was not deterred. Tuesday, he would come to penticton where he lives (is just staying with a friend in kelowna) and cook me dinner. Technically a second date. I referred to it as a Tryst. he said he would go look up what that meant and get back to me. I’ll wait while you do the same…
It was my turn to be late, I wanted to wear a dress, but decided jeans, would be smarter. I had to text Cherise his first and last name, and address. She asked if I had seen his ID. How old was he? He is 33, we are golden, and she said “Oooooh la la, Leave your clothes on.”
I replied “Rodger that, Wait, all of them? Or just pants?”
“All of them!”
He was barefoot in the kitchen listening to radiohead, cooking. He beamed as me as I poked my head thru the door. He said “perfect you are here in time for wine”. He was drinking a Viognier from Silk scarf, great wine, sells out every year. After a hug He pours me a glass and asks me what shoes I decided on for tonights date. We have had a few conversations about our mutual love of sexy shoes. The first room as you come in is a galley kitchen, his fridge is covered in words, sexy/funny phrases are pieced together on the freezer, the fridge is covered in greeting cards. I love greeting cards. Sending and getting real mail. I’m already impressed. There is a kitchen table against the wall covered in more cards, pictures, books, a shoe box. On the wall behind the table numerous framed family pictures. One especially sweet one of him, huge grin holding a fresh baby, his nephew. Man holding a baby, on the wall. This man, who is making me dinner and drinking a great wine, and obviously shares my love of both greeting cards, and family… Awe… Cherise told me to keep all of my clothes on. It may be more difficult than I first imagined.
His kitchen is impressive, not in fancy appliances or size, but it is stocked with all my favourite things, lots of whole and healthy food. He asks if I want a water, which he serves me in a martini shaker, awesome. Hope it’s okay he drinks his water room temperature? Yes, me too. Perfect.
His place is comfortable, clean, Some great art on the walls, a couple large framed mirrors. It could have been decorated by me. There isn’t anything in the room I don’t like. We chat a bit. We have been texting for 2 weeks, and I quite enjoy him, he is funny, thoughtful, smart. I’m hoping he is those things face to face. I wasn’t disappointed. I realized a couple nights before the date, he is off work because of a car accident/injury. But what did he do? He told me he was a pharmacist. I thought he was a “pharmacist” aka drug dealer. Haha, but only because he had a lot of leisure time. I certainly wouldn’t judge as I sell liquor and cigarettes. He really is a pharmacist, and the leisure time is rehab time. We chatted about the state of society, nutrition, depression, meds versus natural remedies. We have an appy, and he asks what my favourite type of elephant isle fruit wine is. I like the pear, and he goes into the other room and comes back with one. This man drinks great wine.
Honest truth, I saw his profile last fall when I was dating, thought he was cute, and interesting, but not looking for anything serious, and never contacted me, so we didn’t meet up. This time he messaged me, was impressed by my write up, or maybe it was just we shared a love of sexy shoes. We exchanged long messages online, until finally he asked for my phone number so he could send me a picture. The picture he sent was a children’s toy, that looked like a sex toy, inappropriate, terribly funny. We continued our conversation via text. Exchanged pictures, reciprocal, sexy but not lewd. When I sent him scenery or a dorky shot I was met with a witty retort.
He had been to the farmers market in summerland earlier that day to get some things for dinner. He was also eyeing up a wooden ring one of the vendors makes. I adore farmers markets, local, organic, fantastic. Dinner was savoury sautéed veggies, sweet spicy chicken and mixed greens. Fresh tomatoes, peppers, and hemp seed. The dressing was a homemade concoction of infused oils, of which he had a whole cupboard full. He had even stopped at an organic local bakery to pick up some bread for the salad. Quite a bit of planning and effort seemed to go into making me dinner. I was impressed. The salad was delicious, the only thing it seemed to be missing was avocado, then it could have held the title of best salad ever. Of course I wouldn’t dare say something like that out loud, just then he said “this is good, but it needs avocado”. Get out of my head. Haha, I responded with “I noticed, what are your serving me here??”
After dinner he showed me around his place, everything was tidy, decorative pillows, The spare room had a made bed, he had a couple different fruity foaming hand soaps in the washroom (flavours he said). I had to ask, did a girl live here? A wife I should know about? I live in girlfriend away for the week? Female roommate? He assured me none of the above. We discussed the benefit of having hand soap already foamed for you, just a time saver. I was so full I wanted to lay down, and take my pants off, but Cherise had warned me that it wasn’t the message I wanted to send. I was wearing underwear… no… pants on…
We laid on the floor chatting, he put on a live performance DVD from a local venue/artist that was great, folky. He pulled out a glossy book that he made from pictures taken on his life changing trip to thailand. We went thru page by page, him pointing out things and telling me anecdotes. Best cooking class, his favourite flower (this man has a fave flower), some asian girls crazy sexy shoes. He really does have a thing for sexy shoes. It was comfortable, fun, we laughed. He recommended this great website/app called TED talks, and we talked about some of the things he had listened to on there. This man gives me a mental erection. He makes my brain all engorged and throbby. I don’t think it was showing, my brain boner, that would have been embarrassing.
We made out a bit, clothes on like we were in high school while listening to radio head. Well not how I made out in high school, I ran away from boys, was a late bloomer, not physically, but in every other way. I waited, he did too. Interesting, we talked a bit about why. Finally decided good sense and reason dictated that I should go home, I had to work in the morning and at best would get 4 hours sleep. We had a marathon 8 hour date. And I had successfully kept my clothes on. I got a text when I got home 10 min or so after leaving. This is what I am used to, immediate validation. He had a great time, maybe we could do it again soon. I agreed it was fun.
The next day I got a good morning text, around noon when lucky him got to sleep until. Again saying what a good time he had. I agreed and said I was surprised because I thought he wanted soul-less banging. He said “so you were disappointed? Wait why would you think that?” I explained to him, why, and he said he wasn’t against the idea, but “had no regrets about the time we spent together. Fo sho (that means for sure) It was a blast”. Then he said “so I did read last night right, shocking”
Caramel Latte is not looking for a relationship, but after some careful consideration. Neither am I. I think this dating stuff is potentially fabulous and fun. I have made the mistake in the past of needless intensity. Ultimately I dove in with Goldylocks before I knew how deep the water was. I was exhausted, when I found someone I liked, I used him to take a break from the frenzy. I needed him to save me from myself. I didn’t have the tools or knowledge I have now. Doesn’t mean I will embark on a series on soul-less banging, or the year of the whore. I would ultimately like a relationship, a partner, but the right one, in good time. I refuse to rush into a relationship because of insecurity or an imagined need of one. And I will not dismiss spending time with men that I like because they checked a different box on their profile, or their geographical location. I get something out of these dates. Caramel Latte is one of my new favorites.

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