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The perfect mix: internationally born and educated, beautiful spoken voice, international passport, professional, South African-based, childless, elderly parent and sibling abroad. John50 was a good option.
John50 is an attractive man: tall, dark, handsome, sporty, intelligent. We met for a drink and dinner at the local bistro on a Saturday evening. I looked my usual ravishing self. I had had my hair blown for the occasion. Lucky John50. It was sure to be a good date. The setting was superb. Little veranda for sundowners. Delightful.
But John50 was a whinger (I think this is how one spells it, pronounced "win-ja"). He whinged about everything. Especially his sibling. They were battling over the inheritance on the horizon. Parent alive, please note. John50 was one of those whingers who do nothing about their whinge topics. There is a passive-aggressive element to these types. He also displayed an element of disgruntled resignation. And his aura was heavy. He would be hard work to be around on a long-term basis. I imagine living with someone like John50 would be emotionally draining. It is hard enough remaining buoyant oneself without propping up a grouch. He would need an aura cleansing for starters but I am not sure that this would help. The aura is but the outer layer of the individual. The aura hints at what lies beneath. Trust the aura. There was much lurking inside John50. #hard work alert.
This, however, was irrelevant. Even if John50 had been a happy bunny, we were not well-suited. You see, John50 had spent the day of our drink and dinner date handy manning at home. He had been mending the plumbing. It escapes me why a man of means would choose to spend his precious and valuable leisure time plumbing. Whatever happened to gentlemanly pasttimes? That aside, perhaps this pasttime of John50's is akin to him entering his man cave. Lying on his back with his head propped up on a pipe checking out the u-bend. That sounds caveman-like to me. Let me not judge the man. I have strange leisure habits, too. I talk, to friends. Over coffee. Dull for many. I would imagine that John50 would find my hobby a crashing bore. And that is okay as it is important for partners to have their own leisure activities and jollies. Alone. Only Siamese twins are joined at the hip. And even they are often not joined at the hip.
So, what was the problem then with the part-time plumber?
Well, sadly he had forgotten to scrub his fingernails after he had hung up his tools. Now usually that is okay. It is acceptable, I guess, to have dirty fingernails, for example if you are about to braai. Or garden. But on a date one's hands are visible: around a sometimes crystal glass or silver cutlery, whilst talking, lying idly on the table. And hands say a lot about a person. They reveal a lot of intimate details about a person: if your partner's fingers are long and yours are short then never make the mistake of redecorating together. Google that. Fingers held close together reveal a strong need for security, if held apart the partner is most probably a loner. In the case of John50 they revealed much about his focus with respect to personal hygiene. Clearly John50's focus was elsewhere. I could not picture those hands on my person. To quote my firstborn upon hearing this detail: "eeeeww". Imagine being caressed by those fingers. Stop. The thought is too much to contemplate. I guess I am used to the clean fingernail kind of chap. I think that is where I shall remain.
The decision was taken out of my hands. John50 did not wish to ever see me again. He sent me a stern text the morning after our dinner date chastising me for having not paid my way at dinner. I recall taking my wallet out of my bag when the bill arrived. I recall John50 taking the bill from the waiter and studying it. I do not recall him telling me what my share of the bill was. I do not recall him handing me the bill to see it after him. Mixed messages, John50. Be specific, with your next datee.