We hadn’t seen each other since my foot surgery almost three weeks ago, so we had plenty to catch up on. A physician’s assistant, Bobbi filled me in on her recent Botox class and plans for a Vermont ski share in December. I told her about my business trip to Queensland (home of Australia’s Great Barrier Reef) in January, and about my upcoming date with an Englishman I met online.
As we savored Cilantro’s tasty Mexican fare (seafood paella for Bobbi, skirt steak marinated in Chimichurri sauce with Southwest fries for me), we also talked about current affairs -- from this year’s thisclose presidential election to Madonna’s messy divorce and astonishing lack of a pre-nup – and what it means when a guy isn’t rushing you into sex. I couldn’t help thinking it’s a sign we’ve become too cynical if our first instinct is to assume the worst about a man who takes his time.
The evening ended on a high note, with Bobbi and I laughing about the vagaries of 30-something singlehood, and me feeling thankful for a much-needed night out.