Last night, I actually spoke with Vicky.
This was a big deal to me. Verbal communication says so much - no, I really didn't intend that pun, honest. You hear how well they communicate, their sense of humor, how quickly they respond... and then there's the buffet to you ears a fortunate voice can provide. I can't stand a shrill voice. I wish my own was better, a clear indication that I don't love the sound of my own voice! The women I've loved the most have all had great voices. This would be a test.
First, let's recap. Vicky and I started talking on Sunday. Oh, we'd exchanged a couple of emails (expressing interest ever so tentative) on Thursday. Then, Friday, I headed down to San Diego. I didn't get an email from her all weekend, which made me think she wanted nothing to do with me, of course. Though she'd told me she'd be camping, it was clear she'd want nothing to do with me. (Suffer from an inflated ego, I don't!) Sunday night, she emailed me and asked if I'd like to IM via Yahoo.
I downloaded the software and we were off. Our first "conversation" was somewhat stilted. It would start and stop and then try to start again. I got the impression that I bored her.
The next night, Monday, we IM'ed again. This time, things seemed to flow. We "talked" for nearly four hours.
Tuesday night, we IM'ed for another four hours.
By this time, I had an impression of her as hard working yet caring, practical with no time for the frivolous, having pets to fill some loneliness in her life... a little cold...
Last night, at 8:30pm, I asked, "Would you like to actually talk to each other tonight?" She said she'd like to but had to run to the store first. She'd call me when she got home.
By 9:15pm, I figured she'd decided against it and I wouldn't hear from her again.
At 9:20, my phone rang. "Hello?" I answered.
"This must be Vicki!"
"How did you know?"
"I recognized your voice!" It wasn't the last joke to fall flat.
And so, we talked.
She has the voice of a well-educated asian woman; you know that very proper, nearly prim tone that is trying so hard to exact an American accent but can only get so close. English so perfect it is nearly too perfect. A voice so sultry you can drown in it. And as I listened to her, I realized that she is hard working and caring, practical but with a love of piano (she plays) and amusement parks (especially Disneyland), and with a life full of friends in addition to her family and pets. I realized you can't judge a person via email.
Though I'm often the dominant talker with my friends, Vicky loves to talk. This is fine by me; I love to listen. She's full of stories and tells them with excitement. She apologized a few times for going on but I wanted to know about her.
I don't think I did as well. My attempts at humor fell flat and my precise language threw her off at times. Fortunately, I was able to speak with some authority on the Getty, Salvadore Dali, and theater because she did her own share of holding court when it came to Philadelphia, Vegas, and Disneyland.
She's smart and she has a strong personality. Good attributes but you never know when that can blow up in your face. Also, she comes from a family in which she's been spoiled financially, something I wouldn't be able to do. That doesn't seem to be a prerequisite, though; she'd much rather not be taken advantage of (she's dealt with deadbeat boyfriends in the past).
Will I be able to measure up? I don't know. I plan to ask her out this Sunday. (She has plans Saturday and, having a reading of my new play on Saturday, I don't think I could stand the added pressure.) Some place relaxed and safe. We'll see. No pressure. Really. And, if she turns out to be a dog (I've had people pull the "oh, by the way, I look like THIS now" trick on me before), I won't have to worry about measuring up. If her body matches the rest of her... I'm in trouble.