His problem? He allows one false premise guide him during our courtship; that he needs to impress me. Who wants to be impressed? Not me.
Why did he tell me that he got a perfect score on his SATs? At our age, who cares? Who even remembers their score? Maybe if mine had been perfect I’d remember. But still, all these years later that’s hardly something I’d be chatting about.
And why, oh why, show off his silk tie? We’re sitting in a bar, a low, round table separating us. He leans in to me. I mimic his movement, leaning toward him, thinking he has something significant to say. Instead he holds his tie out to me, says, “Feel this. It’s silk.”
I’m sitting there in my caressingly soft cashmere sweater, Hermès silk scarf and butter soft leather pants, my leather jacket with mink collar and cuffs tossed over the back of my chair.
Poor man. I can picture him anquishing over his tie selection, choosing the one he thought would impress me.
As my mother always said, “Quality speaks for itself. No need to draw attention to it.”
What tactics did suitors attempt to impress you? Did they work?