The Salad Fork

Every woman has seen her share of chick flicks. In at least one movie there’s the inevitable scene where some poor exhausted mom launches herself into the perils of the dating world only to discover that she has absolutely no idea what she is doing. She goes into a panic fretting over details of dressing, flirting and… eek …touching. Assured by girlfriends, she “gets back out there” and discovers that dating is in fact, just like riding a bike. Well, I cant ride a bike. I never learned and have no desire to do so. I tried once during a stint as a girl scout camp counselor and the fear of falling coupled with the embarrassment of being coached by 12 year olds made me drop the bike and never look back. Sadly enough I’m starting to feel this way about the dating world. To me, dating is tantamount to this five star restaurant that everyone I know is dining at while I sit at “burger world” munching fries from a paper bag. How then, am I supposed to waltz through the fancy doors, greet the maitre d’, and sit down to dine amongst the fine china and place setting when I cant even find the freaking salad fork. Not only am I terrified of the concept of sitting at the table, staring at the silverware like a bumbling fool and not knowing what to do, I am absolutely astonished that I am the poor exhausted mom from the movie. If mom dating is like dog years then technically I’m about 40 years old and I haven’t had a date since the 90s. do you have any idea how much has changed since the 90s!? this is all too much to handle. There are no books for this. No self help, do it yourself, mail order DVDs to make me confident in my ability to “get back out there”. And now, as I sit, pretty sure that the invitation has been extended I ask myself…am I ready for a salad fork??? When I find out I’ll let you know, but until then I’m gonna need some training wheels…and a copy of “dating for dummies”.