I couldn’t help wondering what Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen would have to say. In an age where the opening of doors was in dispute, let alone helping “the fairer sex” alight from their carriages… I mean, their cars, I am sure they would agree that it is a difficult task finding a gentle, caring, chivalrous man.
I had thought my search was over.
In the beginning it had been alright. The first date involved door-opening and help getting seated, even assistance taking off the coat. I also received a kiss on the hand at one point.
By the fourth date it was a different story.
That is why I am wondering what Heyer and Austen would say. I am wondering whether this should be the end. Would that be their advice for me?
I know it was a rainy day, and that I had an umbrella and he didn’t, but if he truly, romantically loved me, surely he would have opened the car door anyway. How chivalrous could he be if he let a few raindrops… okay, a sheet of water… get in the way of an opportunity to show me his tender loving care?
So you think that is unreasonable?
Well, I could probably let that go, but not ushering me carefully through the restaurant door? Now that was more serious.
Yes, I know the restaurant had automatic doors. And that he ran in to get shelter from the rain. But that left me to make my own way indoors. And you can’t count standing just inside the door so it stayed open and smiling … warmly … at me… ahhh… that smile….
What was I saying? Oh, yes, and smiling warmly at me from just inside the door can’t be counted as the necessary romantic chaperoning that would show me I am a delicate creature to be protected.
Not that I am, mind you. He is probably a bit more delicate when it comes to rain and cold, especially with his tendency for bronchial infections. But, still… am I being unreasonable?
Okay, okay. Maybe. But he could at least have helped me off with my damp coat. Now that would have made me felt more cared-for.
I know he had to extricate himself from his wet one, but he could have … taken... my… Okay, maybe I am being a little unreasonable. Especially since he was holding my umbrella and handbag while I took my coat off.
But I still had to take it off on my own.
And sneezing and so forth isn’t really an excuse for cutting a date short.
And, surely, he could have at least kissed my hand in between snuffling and sneezing when he said good-night. A few germs are better than being shuffled out of the car and given a brief “Go-ahchoo–ood (sniff-sniff) a-night-choo” before dashing off.
I mean, what are men coming to these days?! No chivalry at all.
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