I had questions, but Tasha was saying goodnight. Apparently, I had been correct in thinking she was beauty queen material (catch up with pt1 and pt2 here). She had the title, sash and tiara to prove it. As I said my farewell, I figured that was the last moment of our acquaintance. I had held this beautiful, engaging woman’s attention for several hours, but our time together was at an end. I’m a good texter, but I can’t text forever. At some point, I’d have to move to a voice call and my facade of confidence and humor would crumble. I thought about her as I fell asleep that first night of the new year and was both happy and sad at the same time.
I had put Tasha away in her own file in my mind by the time I awoke the next morning. The file was titled Beautiful Ships that Passed in the Night. Besides, I knew Pia was coming back the next day and we made plans to go out to dinner. She had been fighting a bug for some time though and we ended up postponing. I waited a full week before going back on the dating app. I glanced through my chat with Tasha. The app tells you how long it has been since your contact has been on the app. It had been several days for Tasha, perhaps not since we had been on together.
I flipped disinterestedly through a few profiles and out of boredom went back to Tasha’s profile. Interesting the things you learn on profiles. For instance, she revealed the town she grew up back west. She also had a green dot by her name now. She was on. I had already put her in the inactive file. Dare I reach out and re-establish contact? No, I thought, remain satisfied with your lovely little New Year’s Eve.
Bing, a message came in. From Tasha. My heart literally skipped a beat. Hey you, she wrote. And we all know exactly what hey you means from a woman to a man. It means I like you. I may possibly want to have your children, but you better get your ass in gear ’cause I’m in my 40’s and time isn’t cooperating. At least that’s what ran through my head in the second between reading her hey you and my reply, Took you long enough to say hi again. False confidence, sure, but that was better than none at all.
I was playing hard to get, she returned.
Really? Me too, I wrote back. If we both keep playing hard to get, nobody is going to get got! And just like that we fell comfortably back into our banter. I got to ask about her pageant experience. She went onto the national pageant, but lost there. We chatted for a couple of hours. As it came time to end the chat, I pulled out some big boy words and asked her out for drinks.
Holy Jesu, she said yes.
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