She nodded again with a tight smile.
"But me, I need a woman. Keep me on the straight and narrow," he said then raised a hand and added, "or decorate! God knows I need help there," he laughed again.
She laughed with him. Or at the situation, really, but he couldn't tell the difference because this was a monologue that she was witnessing rather than being a part of. And she didn't mean to be cruel, not really.
"So anyways, I was talking about that on shift. About wanting to find a good woman, you know?"
"A mother-like figure, yes," she replied, feeling as though she were interrupting him even though he had asked her a question.
A slight look of confusion crossed his face and he said, "No, I have a mother. I meant, looking for a woman. For me. So here we are," he gave her a smile that would be considered handsome on his rather nice mouth if it hadn't been accompanied by everything coming out of it.
"And then Taylor said he met this cool girl, new to town and, well, we all know he doesn't date," he laughed and she looked over to where Taylor was talking with Jenson and Ursula. Casper was fully leaning into the man and enjoying head pets. There was an ease in his shoulders that she could only describe as welcoming, but his body movement stilled as if he sensed something and he turned his head, his eyes connecting with hers. The contact of his blue eyes with hers was unexpected and before she could feel herself tumble, she pulled her eyes away from him. Taylor White was not for her. He was off-limits. So she looked back at the man at hand. The super manly man. He was looking at her with a hanging question in his eyes and she shook her head.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"I just said, since Taylor doesn't date I begged him to hook me up with you. Because if he notices that you're cool, then you've got to have the whole package. And now here we are." The way he said it was like they were in the middle of a months-long relationship instead of where they were, which was in fact a cool, early morning soccer field meeting for the first time where he was running the entire date without her help.
He was now moving onto one of his hobbies, which had something to do with a frisbee and little baskets, and she imagined taking her hand and just...covering his mouth. What would he do? Did she care? No. But, it would be rather rude, and maybe that wasn't the best move on a first and final date, because she had decided about twelve minutes ago between him assigning her decorating duties and keeping him in line, that this was a guy who needed the kind of woman that wanted to take care of a guy. There were many women out there who desired that.
She did not.
"I like that you don't have one of those cups," she heard him say.
"What?" she asked, sure she'd heard him wrong.
He pointed to her black matte water bottle, one that she sold at her cafe in Florida with their logo. "That. It's not one of those big jug cup thingies that women go crazy for whenever a new color comes out. I always say it's the mark of a high-maintenance woman so it's nice that you're not one of them. You're obviously not like other girls."
Had someone handed this man a script on misogyny?
She pulled in a breath and held it for a beat, trying to decide between war and peace before turning toward him. "No," she said. She was finished with this.
"No?" he asked, a silly, confused smile on his face.
"Don't say that. Don't say that I'm not like other women as if it's a point for me, because that system is built on taking away value from other women and we've been brainwashed into being pitted against each other for too long. I'm not like them?" she asked and tilted her head as a very confused, slightly scared-looking Ivan had the good sense to not answer. "I laugh and cry, sometimes in the same conversation. I worry about my weight and if I'm only half a woman because I don't want to have children. I get excited when I see colorful bunches of flowers and I love eating pie straight out of the pie dish with my best friend while we talk about nothing and everything. I don't feel complete without other women in my life. Guilt isn't an emotion for us; it's an entire hobby trying to battle it, understand it, and eradicate it. I love dressing up and I have a thing for tutus which I am pretty sure has followed me from girlhood and sometimes I dream up scenarios in which it would be appropriate to wear one. And then I wonder why I think it wouldn't be appropriate. I also like wearing sweatpants and putting my hair up into an obscene pineapple while walking around with a pint of icecream. I walk into rooms and wonder if I belong, even if I own them. I don't waste my time with half-assed desserts. I get hot flashes like crazy." She paused and watched him take a self-protective stance of arms crossed over his puffed-out chest. She looked at his face that didn't match his strong stance, recognizing he was guarding himself. She softened her tone. "I like women who carry those big jug cup thingies that women go crazy for. Because their personality, character, and struggles don't fit inside of one of those cups, contrary to its size. So, don't look at me and tell me I'm not like other women as if it is a compliment. I'm exactly like them and I'm glad for it and I'm finally learning how to celebrate that." She looked over to see Ursula, Jenson, and Taylor looking at them. Her voice hadn't been loud, so she knew she wasn't making a scene, but then Casper pushed away from Taylor and loped over with his big gray body until he was leaning into her with his large comfort.
Ivan stepped back in surprise at the invasion of the large hound who was putting himself between them.
"Ivan, it was okay meeting you, but I'm not the kind of woman you're looking for. Enjoy the game," she said with a smile and let Casper lead her back to their friends.
When Ivan called after her asking, "That's it? Where are you going?"
She turned while walking backward and smiled big replying, "I heard there's a new color coming out for one of those cups: high-maintenance maroon. I'm going to go get in line." She saluted and then turned back around with a smirk on her face.
"Hey, little mermaid," Ursula said carefully. "Not go so well?"
She gave her a knowing look and then turned to Taylor. "I think I'll pass on the manly man cop. Appreciate it, though."
He shifted slightly to look behind her where she had left her date and then shifted back with raised eyebrows. "He talk about himself the whole time?"
"He did. Though he did talk about women a few times."
He grimaced. "Yeah, I never hung out with him but on the short drive here I realized I wouldn't date him if I were a woman."
They all stood and watched as the man walked off of the field in a clipped march.
"Why did you come?" she blurted out the question that had been humming in the back of her mind. She wanted to pull it back but seems she hadn't placed her filter back yet.
His eyes found hers and he fully looked at her for the first time that morning. She could read so many things flashing there but before he could answer she decided she didn't want to hear it, whatever it was. So she smiled with a laugh saying, "You wouldn't date him if you were a woman? Thanks for the warning."
