01
Oct
07

A Night At the Met

Recently I was taken on a very lovely date. Completely appropriate, very much my style, and at the same time, unexpected, almost shocking.

Dinner and the opera! And not just any opera, La Boheme! Unless you want Romeo and Juliet, you can’t have higher expectations for romance on a second date or a more idealistic look at love. Man meets woman, woman falls for idealistic man, man woos her until the day she dies.

Not many single, 30 year old men think of dinner and the opera as an appropriate date, and, often, the men that do, can seem rather stuffy and pretentious. In this case, not only was he not flashy, or affected, he isn’t ostentatious at all. The problem on this particular date lied within me. I wasn’t so sure I even wanted to go on a second date, but he was sweet enough to invite me and I do enjoy his company. I enjoy his company, but not in the way Romeo enjoyed Juliet’s, but more like the way Oprah likes to travel with Gayle and Matt likes to play with Ben.

Was I wrong to accept an invitation to such a lavish evening, knowing I wasn’t attracted to the man? What is the exact rule for date number two? Is it wrong to agree to a date for your own personal pleasure, knowing the relationship won’t go beyond that evening?

I did have a great time, but the thought of my date reaching over and taking my hand, stressed me out to the point where I didn’t enjoy the show as much as I would have if I was with someone else. The lack of oxygen I felt at times throughout the evening was comparable to being stuck between an overweight passenger and the bathroom on a full flight with many more hours to go.

So in the end was it worth it? I already knew the story of La Boheme and although a night at the opera is a special treat, sometimes a night at home, peaceful and comfortable is more important than romance.


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