The Worst Kind

Harry: There are two kinds of women: high maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally: Which one am I?
Harry: You're the worst kind. You're high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance.

I've always maintained that I'm low maintenance. I figure I'm really easy to please. Make enough money to pay the bills plus eat out every so often and be prepared for emergencies. Buy me flowers on Valentine's Day, open the door and tell me I'm pretty. Jeans and tee-shirts for running errands, jeans and pearls for a date. No fancy restaurants needed and no long walks on the beach. I'm good with the sports grill and renting a video. I love my weekend getaways, but am good with the Quality Inn over the Sheraton. I shop at Wal-Mart and Target, buy my name brands on eBay or from a van in the alley. Ok, so I need Helman's and Heinz over store brand, but it's just condiments. And once a year I want a real vacation, and not one where I have family and friend visiting obligations.

Uh oh, it starts there. I'm slowly learning that I may not be SOOOOO low maintenance. Could I be getting more demanding as I age? Or could I just be more willing to admit that I want a little more than the basics? You can take the girl out of Long Island, but you can't take the Long Island out of the girl.

I took my daughter to Cancun last week for Spring Break. I knew the hotel wouldn't be as impressive as the one we'd stayed at the last time, but I figured there were pools, a beach, a kids' club and all-inclusive amenities. What's one less star REALLY mean? Well, it means that the run down jungle gym that took me three days to discover was their version of the kids' club. And it means that if you're on the all-inclusive plan, the waiters won't come to you at the pool, you've got to get your ass up and go get your own drink. And it means that your bathroom smells like sewer and they clean all the dirty plates and cups around the pool just one time a day. And worst of all, it means no room service! I swore I'd never go back there and from now on, I'd pay a few more dollars to ensure my luxury.

I've also learned I'm a little more demanding, since I've reentered the local dating scene. My southern gentleman spoiled me and now I expect a man to open my doors. Not too bad, I'm sure you're thinking. But I even will sit and wait in the car for him to come around and let me out. I get the WTF look through the window as they're already 10 yards away from the car and I'm still sitting there.

I expect a man to offer to come to me and to have a plan. What do you mean "do I want to meet somewhere in the middle?" Hello, this is a first date, you're supposed to try and impress me. Date's off. "So where do you want to go?" Sorry pal, you asked me out, you'd better make a suggestion, at least. Don't leave me to figure it out when I'm supposed to meet you somewhere in 10 minutes. Indecisive doesn't fly with me.

I always offer to contribute to the check when we eat out. Usually, that offer is declined. Yesterday, I offered to pay towards lunch. "No, that's ok, you can get the movie." He's out. He mentioned the last girl being a gold digger. I'm not after his money, I'm after a gentleman. If he were broke, I'd almost understand. This was a first date, at least attempt to impress me with chivalry. If you don't have a lot of money, then suggest something cheap for our date, like going for a walk somewhere...I won't even notice you're saving money.

Another guy I've been seeing calls but doesn't ask me out. I inquire why not and he responds that he's broke. He's made it past the first three dates, I don't need him to pay for a meal anymore. See, I'm not that bad. But his car was in the shop and I was annoyed that he didn't figure out a way to come see me. Demanding? A bit.

So, I'm ready. I'm ready for a quality vacation, and I'm ready for a quality man... and I'm ready to admit that I'm not quite low maintenance. I want the romance and I want it from a gentleman that's going to show me that he believes I'm worth the extra steps it takes. I'm worth 15 more minutes in the car, and walking around to open the door and paying for the first date (which not need to be expensive, mind you) and I'm worth borrowing a car to come see and I'm worth paying a compliment or two. If he doesn't believe that, then he's not the right guy.

Does all this make me high maintenance? If so, then I will accept it and admit it...but for now I'll say I'm high maintenance-ish. I still buy store brand mustard. :-)