I Am Worth More Than a Maple Latte

"Does that taste good?" The man next to me at the bar queried me as I took the first sip of my Stoli Cosmo. That was the start of a long and interesting conversation with the newest blog-fodder, who I will nickname Wild Thing or WT for short. WT recently bought an outdoor-wear company in town and splits his time between his home in Newport and North Conway. His explicative-ridden banter was amusing. Our conversation turned to both business and personal items as he allegedly has been wanting to do some deals with my company for some time but didn't know who to contact (lucky me).

We exchanged business cards and under the guise of commerce promised to stay in touch, which he did the very next day. I snuck away from work for a brief "lunch meeting" with him today to drop off some information, at which time he asked me what I was up to this evening. "Making turkey soup and hanging out with my kid. Why do you ask?"

My instinct was to hustle and find a babysitter and abandon my child for the evening. I contacted new friend KA to ask if she could babysit. "You're going to drop everything for this guy you just met? You have to say thanks but no, maybe next time if you can give me more notice."

This of course went against every instinct I have. "But nothing has worked for you yet, right?" Damn me for sharing my dating horror stories with her. But she was right. "Trust me on this - do not call him back, do not get a babysitter -- he will go back to Newport and think about you all week."

So here I sit staring at my cell phone and wondering if a text message counts as a call.

KA also provided good counsel when I complained about Spaceman's recent cloying behavior towards me in anticipation of his landing more business. "He bought a maple latte to my office this week- twice! He helped me figure out my digital camera." I told her, "Maybe he wants to make amends."

"Kathy," KA scolded me, "you are worth much more than a maple latte."

So as I contemplate Mr. Wild Thing, she reminds me I am worth more than a coffee drink and I must have faith that another opportunity will come up even if I decline this one.

The thought of saying no is both liberating and frightening. Fact is, I am exhausted and was looking foward to a quiet night at home with my daughter. And so far, he hasn't called anyway, so I don't have to feel like an even bigger loser who not only jumped on the invitation but then also arranged for an unnecessary babysitter.

So it is as easy as saying no and then reeling him in the next time? Is it really that easy? Or am I so socially retarded that I will blow it over and over and over again?

Meanwhile, the latest Craigslist guy has turned MIA. I followed "He's Just Not That Into You" rules and have not called. Maybe it's just a holiday-induced delay, but my new social experiment requires absolute adherence.

Or maybe my shrink is right and both are just textbook examples of my bad taste in men.

I guess I'll find out more tomorrow. I have a business meeting in the a.m. with WT that we agreed to regardless of this evening's outcome.

Perhaps I'll serve Maple Lattes.