Filed Under: Curvy Conversations, Dating, Fitness
Autumn in New York makes me want to be in love….
So, when I checked my online dating account and saw that I had a message from a guy named Steve, it was perfect timing. I could tell Steve was creative from his online profile which said he was into things like punk rock, doo wop and that he collected vinyl records. He had one photo, which was an angular close-up of his face, showing his big brown puppy dog eyes through black framed glasses.
After a few emails back and forth, Steve and I began talking on the phone. He was from London originally and I loved listening to his accent. We chatted easily, and soon he asked me if I wanted to have dinner with him. It was Autumn in New York and I wanted to be in love, so of course– I accepted.
When we hung up the phone, I remembered the diet I was on! I was weeks into the Weight Management Program and was dropping 5+ pounds per week. I didn’t want to ruin my progress, but I also didn’t want to ruin my chances with Steve… I was stuck.
As part of the WMP, I receive weekly calls from Natalie, my nutritionist, on Fridays. She calls to check in on my progress since our Tuesday meeting and also to provide encouragement for the weekend ahead. My date with Steve was Friday Night and when she asked me if I had any upcoming hurdles I told her about it.
“Do you feel comfortable explaining your diet to him?” Natalie asked.
“Maybe you could do something other than dinner…” she suggested.
“Maybe, but I don’t know him that well, dinner is safe and I don’t want to change our plans at the last minute”
“Okay, I understand. Well– go on your date, have fun… but eat your prescribed foods before you go. Double up on shakes and entrees, and that way you’ll be full and it will be easier to order something small.”
I agreed to follow Natalie’s advice, she wished me luck and we hung up.
I rushed home after work and started getting dressed. I decided on a denim skirt and a pink turtle neck sweater. I zipped up my slouchy soft leather boots, pulled my bangs back with a green scarf and I was ready.
I took the train downtown and called him. As we spoke on the phone trying to locate each other by describing what we had on, I realized I didn’t really know what Steve looked like. From his photo I knew he had brown eyes and black framed glasses and because I asked, I knew he was 6’1 but that was it! I scanned the crowd and my eyes fell on a man wearing black framed glasses talking on the phone– He was about 5’11, portly, with badly slouching shoulders and as he scanned the crowed it seemed that he had a lazy eye. That couldn’t be Steve… could it? I slowed my pace and continued talking to him hoping that the person I was looking at was on the phone with someone else and not me… but sure enough his mouth was forming the words I was hearing.
I walked over to him, we said our hello’s and he ushered me into a trendy restaurant. We sat down and I focused intently on the menu so I could gather my thoughts. My mind was racing! I felt so foolish! I wasn’t sure if I should blame him for his “optical illusion” profile photo or blame myself for leaving so much to my own imagination. I needed to get over it, and as I composed myself I could feel his eyes on me.
“You– You’re much prettier in person,” He said.
I looked up from my menu into his asymmetrical eyes, he smiled, and our dinner began. After a few drinks I pushed past my physical disappointments with him. It was then that I realized I had another hurdle… he was was really awkward! Not just awkward, but borderline weird. It made me anxious and my whole diet went out the window. I had cocktails, I had a full dinner and when he insisted that I order dessert, I caved! (but I only ate half of it).
Dinner was winding down and he began complimenting me again on how attractive I was.
“What made you put that green scarf in your hair?” he asked. “it looks great!”
“Um– I dunno…” I stammered.
“Its very retro, I like that… I noticed your boots on the way in,” he continued “can I see them?”
He leaned over the side of the table and before I knew it I was sliding my leg out.
“Lovely…” he murmured. “… and your bag?” he said glancing at the leather xoxo tote I had in my lap.
“Very nice,” he said nodding “very nice.”
I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew I had to leave. He paid the bill and I stood up abruptly, I couldn’t make my way out of the restaurant and onto the train fast enough. I woke up early Saturday morning and forced myself to do a double work out. After 45 minutes on the treadmill, and 15 minutes on the stair climber, I jumped in the pool for 30 minutes of laps.
Steve– what a waste of calories!