John called Kelly and canceled the original dinner-movie date and changed it to a party in Emeryville at an art gallery. He talked it up. Then he apologized in advance, saying he had to arrive early to help set up and asked if she would mind driving herself.
She paused, and agreed. Strange.
He guaranteed her it would be more fun.
She put on a little black dress and new heels and drove to the party from Walnut Creek. She found the gallery in the the old warehouse district. She tried to park her car as close as possible. The music from the party could be heard from a distance.
The gallery was swarming with women- single women and groups of women. There was a mere smattering of men.
She thought perhaps it was early. She texted John and found him at the bar with three women hanging on his every word. He kissed her on the cheek and continue to regale the women with his “Mexico Margarita” story. More women were drawn to him and his animated story.
Kelly slipped away. He didn’t notice. She scoured the room. Ordered a glass of wine, spoke to bartender and looked at the avant-garde art. Obviously, an acquired taste.
She glanced over at her “Date.” He winked and waved. He was still the center of attention.
That was it; C’est fini. The big red flags were waving and snapping loudly.
Without a word she left. John was a player.
She went to her friend’s café and regaled all who would listen with her dead-end story. They lauded for her great escape and severing ties.
her mantra is “The best is yet to come.”
Somebody else could have that guy.