In Search of Robert Redford

While viewing online dating profiles, I came upon one with pictures of a very attractive man, reminiscent of Robert Redford, who was reaching out to me.  I eagerly read through his profile history and devoured his pictures with my eyes.  Lane had a head of thick, silvery hair and a trim waistline.  No half a ton of blubber hanging over his belt.  Now here was a man who was not only pleasing to the eye but whose profile appeared to mirror my own interests and values.  We were to meet for Sunday brunch at a nearby restaurant.  I was psyched!  Robert Redford, here I come!

The entire town must have come out to brunch that day.  I anxiously elbowed my way through the crowd in search of “Mr. Redford.”  Shoved from behind, I was pushed into another.  He abruptly turned with a look of annoyance.  I was ready to make my apologies when I realized that this person was “Mr. Redford,” or rather, Lane.  I apologized profusely and immediately introduced myself.  It took a minute for him to recognize who I was.  He stuck his hand out and took mine in a warm, firm grasp.  Be still my heart!

It seemed like an eternity before we were seated.  Though we exchanged warm greetings, his smile never quite reached his eyes.  He had shown no inclination to flirt, even when I thought I was being at my most charming.  Hmmm…  It was a bit of a letdown, but there was still time for a connection.  I was going to give it my best shot.

Cry Me a River?

Throughout the meal, our conversations were varied, deep, and interesting.  We covered many topics and, did indeed, share many commonalities.  However, no matter my efforts, I had been unable to get Lane to laugh, let alone present me with a smile that reflected in his eyes.  Instead, they carried a remote sadness.  As our time together progressed, it seemed as though the sadness became more evident.  Storm clouds gathered in his eyes.  Before I could ask what the problem was, the storm broke.  Tears rolled in rivulets down his cheeks.  He covered his eyes with his hands.  “I can’t do this.  I’m not ready.  I miss my wife.  She’s only been gone for six months,” He sobbed.  I was momentarily stunned.  Without thinking, I moved to his side of the booth and awkwardly placed a comforting arm around his shoulders.  The date concluded soon thereafter.  Driving home, utterly disappointed, I prayed that never again would any future dates “cry me a river.”




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