Tuesday, October 5, 2010

The 2nd Installment--

Dating is like Brain Surgery

by Nicole Sage 
 In The Cosmo Girl’s Guide To The New Etiquette , circa 1967 quotes “Every day and every night, thousands of girls sit in offices, go to parties, wait for elevators to come and lights to change, buckle their airplane seat belts and straphang on subways, and look wistfully at princes, near princes, and knaves they cannot quite start conversations with.  How can you begin a conversation—and begin it so well someone else will want to go on with it?”
I’ve always been wary of conversations that start out with the sentence, “I know a great guy I want to set you up with.”   Whether it is said by a dear friend or by my boss or even by my parents, and no matter the amount of enthusiasm they are able to muster and the multitudes of accolades they can dump on my potential fix-up, I just can’t help but be suspicious of the entire idea of going on cold, blind dates.  And then, one day, something happened that made me change my mind.
I work for a staffing resources company and one day my boss called and said, “We have a new client and guess what?  He’s a doctor on Captiva Island that needs a nanny for his 2 boys.  “Great,” I replied.  “Wait, guess what else,” she said excitedly.  “He’s divorced!”   “What do you mean?” I replied to my boss, the eternal die-hard romantic.
“I can see it now, you and the Jewish doctor on Captiva Island. The former nanny that mends his broken family .”   Thus, the decision was made that I should “handle” this client.
Romantic dreams aside, I knew I had to be delicate with this one.  Divorce is rough.   Dr. Green was his name.  He called and expressed his deepest concern and guilt over having to find staff for his children. I explained that I have “nannied” for over 11 years and there is one thing I’ve recognized working with many families.  Money or sans money, married or divorced, most families need assistance.  If you can afford good help you should feel fortunate.   After I made such a convincing plea he continued and explained the tragic catalyst for his separation.  Either this man was lonely or he didn’t have time for a real therapist or perhaps the anonymity of the phone allowed him a certain comfort level.  Whatever the reason, he was having no problem telling a stranger about the private pain in his life.  Maybe I should have been scared, but I wasn’t.  I was flattered. Then I was distracted. I found myself lured to Dr. Green’s voice. He sounded like…Bruce Willis. I imagined older, sexy, Bruce Willis, post-Demi, a bald Dr. Bruce Willis. 
“Can I ask you a question that perhaps could be unethical?” he asked.  Just like a doctor I thought.
 “Of course you can Dr. Green.”
“I know that this is an inappropriate question to ask, but, are YOU single?’
“Uh, no…. Yes, I’m single. No children.”
“Never been married?”
“No. No.”  I confessed.
He then proceeded to ask me out for dinner.  When I reminded him that we lived in two different states he quickly explained that he flies to Atlanta for business once or twice a month.  Again, perhaps I should have run for the hills, but I was intrigued by his honesty and sincerity.  Before we ended our conversation, I had to ask…
“Um, just out of curiosity, what kind of doctor are you?”  I said casually.
“Oh, I’m a Neurosurgeon.”
 “Right,” I said and hung up.

My boss gave me the “Dr. Green light” so I got to work trying to find him a suitable nanny for his boys.  As I faxed resumes to Captiva for consideration, I began to receive an abundance of emails and phone calls from Dr. Green and they weren’t pertaining to work. Nope, these were personal calls. There were personal calls at work and there were personal calls at 5:15pm while I was in traffic. Personal phone calls at 10pm at night so Dr.Green, the neurosurgeon, could pick my brain. I couldn’t get enough from this man who was entirely interested in me, a man that opens skulls and severs ties between the spinal cord and the brain.
The date was set.  I anxiously opened the door to greet my Dr. Bruce Willis except this man was no Bruce Willis.  Hell, he wasn’t even a William H. Macy.  I was disappointed but decided to over look it.  After all, our connection was a mental one.  And it didn’t hurt that he had the most stunning bouquet of flowers I had ever seen.  He was a complete gentleman, opening my door to one of those new convertible Thunderbirds and driving me to a wonderful restaurant where we dined on tuna tartar, Filet Mignon accompanied by a bottle of LaTour (which was decanted at my suggestion).  After our decadent meal we smoked gorgeous cigars and drank amazing port.  I sighed because this should have been my dream date.  The problem was while our conversations had mostly revolved around his woes, I had hoped that once we met face to face, we would move on to other topics.  That was not the case as I quickly realized that our reservation should have been for a party of three: me, Dr. Green and his ex-wife. I think the date could’ve been a success if Dr. Green had found the time to prescribe himself some solid therapy.  While this man was no knave, he was also not my prince and unfortunately this was one conversation that would not go on.   

Sunday, October 3, 2010

My 1st Sage in the City column

Sage in the City
MR. Perfect 
In The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm said, “Man is gifted with reason; he is life being aware of itself; he has awareness of himself, of his fellow man, of his past, and of the possibilities of his future.” Well, obviously this German Philosopher was not referring to men of the new millennium. As I live, breath and date in the South I ponder about Mr. Fromm’s quote “Man is gifted with reason.”

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, bells were ringing and I was being seated at this fabulous restaurant for my 30th birthday lunch with my new boyfriend. I was with one of the most handsome southern gentleman I have ever seen. He could’ve been a J.Crew model—his loden colored roll neck sweater brought out all of the emerald green from his eyes. His heart shaped lips would make Matt Damon jealous. His curly chestnut hair framed his handsome face in my eyes, perfectly. Did I mention that this guy was handsome?

He wasn’t really a new boyfriend. I had known this man since the 9th grade. Here we were, bumping into each other years later at a wine tasting. We caught up and he told me about his time in the Peace Corps, while I regaled him with stories from my four tours of duty in Los Angeles. We were pleased at how kindly the years had treated us and that we weren’t in committed relationships. There was undeniable physical attraction. I was enjoying myself and growing more and more pleased to have bumped into him—I was also enjoying the wine. We then proceeded to bump into each other in the bathroom stall, a dark alley and again, in the front seat of his car. Not a normal night for me. Perhaps this man was gifted in knowing his possibilities of his future with me?

After a few weeks of bliss and tremendous titillation I was sure. So, on my way to my fabulous birthday lunch, I knew this Mr. Perfect had to be “the one” when he looked into my eyes and said to me: “I lied, about you dating the other men.” As I choked on my seared tuna (with wasabi mashed potatoes on the side), I said, “Excuse, me?’’

“I’m not alright with you dating other men. You see, I’ve been giving us some thought. I want you to know: I only want you to be with me. I’m not going to run away from this relationship. I want you to teach me yoga and I want to run that 5k you mentioned. I want to go to that B ’n’ B in North Carolina. I knew this because after I sleep with a woman, the first thing I want to do is leave. I usually feel uncomfortable; I need my space. But, with you, I did not want you to leave and I wanted to be with you,” he seemed to genuinely explain.

He smiled, raised his champagne and signaled me to raise my mine and said, “You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you? I’m going to make you very happy. Happy 30th birthday.” He leaned in to kiss me with those Matt Damon lips, and I melted faster than butter on a hot cast iron skillet.

Although lunch had proven to be everything I could want and more, later that night I was concerned that my new beau “who was going to make me very happy” had yet to call. He was also late to pick me up for my 30th birthday event that my best friends were throwing in my honor. Since it was thirty minutes past eight and the party commenced at eight, I began to do what any woman turning 30 would do…cry.

He never explained why he stood me up. He never explained why he never returned my Al Green and Billie Holiday cd’s. In fact, he never called at all. Ever. Again. Was this what Erich Fromm meant that man is gifted with reason? Is it “gifted reason” for a man to tell a woman on her 30th birthday all she ever wanted to hear from a J.Crew model and then humiliate her among all of her closest friends at her party? Was this a man that had “awareness of himself and the possibilities of his future”? Or was this an oblivious man on Prozac who should be committed for telling outrageous lies?

A year later I ran into a woman who knew that particular Mr.Perfect. She asked, “So, what happened to what’s his face? Has he come out of the closest yet? He’s gay, right?”

I gave a half-smile, shook my head and thought to myself, “Well, I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

Welcome to my world. Stay tuned for more SageInTheCity….

My Blogging Virginity

My girlfriend from LA said to me, "Why is Sage in the City NOT blogging that she is getting married!?!"

I never thought about it, didn't think I was capable of "blogging"; low and BEHOLD: I AM HERE! I AM BLOGGING! I AM GETTING MARRIED!!! SAGE IN THE CITY IS GETTING MARRIED!!!


On July 27th, 2010 the love of my life asked me to marry him.  So, what? Well, if you knew me OR have read my colums: Sage In The City on www.atlantageorgiaonline.com then you would appreciate what I am about to blog about...from being a single girl in the city to a Sadie! Sadie! Married lady...
stay tuned.