Champagne Lady '58

In the early part of the last decade, when I was not quite a novice with online dating, but had yet to achieve a Master's Degree in the art of finding love on the Internet, I met ChampagneLady58.
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In the early part of the last decade, when I was not quite a novice with online dating, but had yet to achieve a Master's Degree in the art of finding love on the Internet, I met ChampagneLady58. ChampagneLady58 was a very beautiful woman with high cheek bones and an air of sophistication that could be seen even through the limited quality of the dating site's webpage. Once I found her profile, I started the next phase of the now familiar routine -- I sent her an email. After she replied, we progressed to phone conversations. I told her that I was also born in nineteen fifty-eight so we were the same age (forty-four at this time). 'Yes', she replied, 'I'm sure we will have a lot in common'.

She owned a Bed-and-Breakfast in a small ski resort town just over the border in New York State. We decided that I would drive up the next weekend, and we'd have dinner to get acquainted. I would stay in one of the bedrooms; it was off-season and her place was empty. The following Saturday, I drove up to her Bed-and-Breakfast and I finally came face-to-face with ChampagneLady58 whom I will call Elaine (I'll call her Elaine because honestly I don't remember her real name).

She was a very attractive woman who had elegance to her as she showed me around her place. Her cheekbones were more prominent in person and she had round, full brown eyes, and a long, slender neck. We then settled in her living room where she poured us each a glass of red wine from a bottle she retrieved from a well-stocked rack that ran along the back wall. She then brought out an assortment of cheeses and appetizers and placed them on the table before us. She was a wonderful host. Just after we settled on the couch, she turned to me.

"I have something to confess," she said. 'Oh, God, she's a man' I thought (I tend to jump to the extreme when faced with confessions).

"I'm not really forty-four -- I'm forty-six."

I laughed it off (if she only knew what I thought she was going to say) and told her everyone tends to fudge the numbers on these dating sites so I thought nothing more about it.

We finished our wine and decided to walk down the road to an Italian Restaurant that a friend of hers owned. As we walked to dinner she waved or said hello to just about everyone we passed -- the beauty of living in a small town, everyone knows everyone else.

We reached the restaurant and were greeted by the owner. He apologized and said he would need a few more minutes before our table would be ready so we moved over to the bar and ordered two more glasses of wine.

"I have not been completely honest with you," she said. (Oh my God, she IS a man)

"What is it?"

"I'm not really forty-six," she said, "I'm fifty."

If this trend continued, she was going to die in my arms of old age before dessert was served.

I told her it was no big deal just as the owner came over and guided us to our table.

Once we are seated, she explained to me why she lied about her age.

"I feel that I am an attractive woman with a lot to offer and I find that men are quickly put off by my age."

She then went on to tell how many dates she had just that year alone -- all with much younger men.

"Age is just a number," she said.

And hers rolled over faster than the National Debt Clock.

"And to be totally honest with you," she said (you know where this is going) "I wasn't born in nineteen fifty-eight, I am fifty-eight."

I looked at her and knew she was right -- she was a very attractive woman with a very nice way about her and age would not be the reason this date was not going to work out.

It was what she did next that put an end to this.

She picked up one of the menus the owner left on the table and opened it. She squinted for a second, then reached into her pocketbook and took out a pair of glasses. She put them on and then with the index finger of her right hand she slid them down the bridge of her nose then tilted her head back slightly to read the menu. That was it; any thought of furthering this relationship was over. I looked at Elaine and in that one gesture she was transformed and I knew it was over.

Why?

Because with that one move Elaine now looked like a younger version of my Aunt Gloria.

Don't get me wrong, my Aunt Gloria is a very good looking woman but, come on, it was my aunt.

Effectively, this date was over. After that, I thanked my testicles for playing our game but told them they would not be needed this evening, so they packed their bags and went home.

I was cordial after that, almost answering 'Yes, Ma'am' when asked a question. We walked back to her Bed-and-Breakfast, had one more glass of wine and then I found an empty bedroom and went to bed. I left the next day.

I'm sure ChampagneLady58 went on to have many other dates and that I am probably not even a memory to her. But for me, holiday dinners with family would never be the same.

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