John L. thought of himself as a super hero.
He had a cool car, lived in the best part of the City, and his job in sales was a daily affirmtion that he was ‘hot.’ We worked out once a week -was pretty cocky, he thought he was buff and God’s gift to women.
He knew women liked him. He bragged he had five dates a week. He considerd this a real coup. The fact that most women he met online agreed to meet him for a drink at the very popular, Henry Africa’s pleased him. I didn’t dawn on him that the hot spot, watering hole was also located at a busy bus stop – for a quick getaway – or that the very best Chinese Take Out in the City was a bock away. Any woman who considerd him a “meh” could order the famous Mu Shu Pork and hop on a bus and be home in 30 minutes. “No harm, no fowl” – for her.
She would endure 30 mins of chit chat, enjoy a “smart cocktail,” be seen at the hot spot- then nicely beg off say, “good luck,” pick up her dinner, hop on the bus and be home in time for something new on Netflix.
It took three months of dead-end-dates before John L really got the picture. He was at the wrong bar. He would find a new hot spot, that would change everything,