“You only got one life; you can’t sit around waitin’ for your next life to start.”
— Lucille, Crazy in Alabama
I think I’m going to ask out my dentist. Do you think that’s weird? I mean, he’s only my dentist in the sense that I saw him for the first time about 10 days ago, after I got decked in the mouth by a line drive while pitching softball at a work picnic, and I have to go back to see him for a follow up in about 3 weeks.
We laughed and joked through the whole appointment; when I told him I’m a lawyer, he said, “Well, nobody’s perfect.” When I complimented his garden, which I could see from the exam room window, he said, “Would you believe me if I told you I did it myself?” I said, “Sure, I’d believe you. [Beat] Is it true?” He cracked up and said no. The first thing he asked me after he introduced himself was whether the male co-worker whose name I listed as having referred me was my “better half.” He touched my arm several times throughout the appointment. He doesn’t wear a ring, and my co-worker later told me he thinks he’s single. I think I’m going to ask him out. Part of me really believes he might say yes. Part of me thinks the “follow up” might be a complete fabrication on his part. Most of me thinks I’d better not get my hopes up.
The thing is, I really suck at stuff like this. If you know me in real life, you know that I turn into a giant puddle of dork whenever the moment comes that I have to talk to the guy I have a crush on. I blush profusely, I look anywhere but at his face, I stammer, I talk around what I want to say instead of just coming right out and saying it. It’s really unbelievable. Somehow, I got to be 30 without knowing how to ask a guy to have dinner with me. And I don’t know what I’m so afraid of: so he says no? Big effing deal, right? At least I put it on the line.
I want to get better at this, I do. I promised myself when I moved and started my new “real” life post-law school that I would stop waiting for things to just happen to me. There are things in life that I want, the big things – a husband and a family – and I finally understand that I have to make them happen for myself. But it feels really scary.
I have a plan for asking out the dentist. I have three weeks to psych myself up.
Or out. Bets?
Hear Me in the Harmony 