I select a fellow. We’ll call him Chuck. He is 7-8 years older than I and probably a foot taller, but I pick him and he agrees. We talk by phone and agree to meet on a Sunday for lunch at a local sports bar & grill. He mentions he’ll be dressed casually because he has a golf tournament in the afternoon. I arrive on time, but he doesn’t. Eventually he calls, and a server offers me a drink while I wait. (I order iced tea.)

When Chuck finally arrives, in plaid shorts, a polo shirt and a windbreaker, he takes one look around the crowded place, realizes it is first day of football season and suggests we go elsewhere to have a quiet conversation. He says there is a place around the corner and walks out.

I am not sure at this point whether we are walking there or what, but when he gets in a car without waiting for me I go to mine. I follow him around the block and park. He waits for me on the porch of this western-saloon type of establishment, and as we walk in, I realize this is a local watering hole – aka, pretty much a dive bar. Several regulars sit at the bar, and in one corner sits a huge flat screen TV set for the San Francisco 49ers game.

Chuck announces he might not be able to sit for long because he has pulled his back golfing – the previous day – so apparently the tournament is all weekend and he has already been out that morning, too. Despite his back, he rearranges the chairs at a table so he can see the game.

We order drinks (Remember, I’m expecting lunch), and then he finds out they don’t take American Express. He has no cash with him. The bartender tells him there’s an ATM next door, so he leaves me alone in this dark dive to go get cash. (No, I don’t offer to pay.)

Chuck comes back, drops into the chair and says very little, mainly in response to whatever topic I initiate. Eventually he says he is hurting and is going to call it. (Mind you, he has now had a stiff drink on top of whatever pain reliever he has taken, and now plans to get behind the wheel. Fortunately I have my own transport and only had another iced tea.)

We walk to the door and out onto the porch. He says, “We’ll have to try this again another time.” With that, he steps off the porch and heads for his car. No walking me to my car, no apology for being late or cutting out early (or for not buying lunch).

And when I describe this outing to the folks at the agency, I hear, “Yes, we have had some other ladies mention similar experiences.” Thanks for the heads up *before* I go out with this loser!

Best of luck on your next feature! Let me know if I can help in any way.