Dias mio!
“You need an ambitious man, darling! One with a bite,” my mother told me. This prompted me in my twenties to introduce her to every kind of artist in my life: Musicians, autodidacts with a pile of unfinished scripts in the basement, stoners suffering from persecution compulsion, cameraless photographers. My 32-year-old self, on the other hand, was considering taking this 50s attitude to heart.
So I said, “Nice to meet you!” to Ben, 38. A heart surgeon was supposed to sweeten my Saturday evening.
His apartment was… grown up. But not in the stuffy way. At least he had a bar table with more than a half-empty bottle of Lidl vodka on it.
We drank limoncello, feigning genuine interest, and I caught myself starting to feel at ease.
“I’ll show you something cool!”
Ben darkened the windows.
I should have felt queasy. In the apartment of a man who had access to scalpels and knockout drops. But no hint of doubt reached me. Oblivious, I let myself fall into his arms.
“Because I have a few slides. Was in Spain last year.”
He presented beautiful sunsets that belonged on a postcard.
“Oops! My ex,” he blurted out, shortly after he put those blonde, ruthless 1 meter 75 in front of me. They stood intertwined in front of a plantation.
“Pretty,” I heard myself say, because I couldn’t think of anything better.
“Much too thin! I like women who have something going for them.”
I didn’t know how to feel about this compliment, but decided to judge that at another time.
“Why ex?” I asked, inwardly blaming my curiosity on the effect of my drink.
“Oh,” he said and waved it off. “She was very determined. I earned enough for both of us, but she wanted to continue working and be a career woman.”
Air goose feet.
I had heard of this kind of man, but had never met him myself. He needed a cricket. All dressed up and nothing to do but wait for him. Self-realization – taboo!
I thought about it. Was there anything attractive in this offer? Admittedly, I had only studied law to pay the rent. A six in the lottery would grant me a life in a kimono. But that would still be my choice, my life.
His arm on my shoulder suddenly felt very heavy. As I sat in the Uber, I thought: No, mothers don’t always know everything better.
Writing is her hobby: Sybille Statz from Cologne loves great romances just as much as she loves horror films, cats and 90s series. You can read more of her work in her two short novels “Matches for Real – Das Dating-Desaster” and “After Sunset – Korallenrot” and here.
What does our author Sybille Statz experience when dating? Here you can find the other episodes to read, marvel at and smile about.
Text: Sybille Statz
