LATIMES.COM WSCE F5
Leonard PengÕs illustration
to go with Denise MossÕ
L.A. Affairs column.W
HEN PEOPLE com-
plain to me about how
hard it is to find a seri-
ous, long-term relation-
ship in Los Angeles, I tell
them to stop dating and go to their near-
est parks and recreation department.
I was in my mid-20s when I told my two
roommates I was taking a full sabbatical
from dating. We were lying out in the
backyard of the West L.A. house we
rented, getting some sun and watching
the planes buzz by overhead as they
landed at Santa Monica Airport.
Taking a “man-cation” was not a diffi-
cult decision. My last two dates had con-
sisted of a work buddy who had taken me
out for drinks and tried to pick up another
woman for what he hoped would become
a threesome (it didn’t) and a short-term
relationship with a guy who asked me to
pick him up at the airport and then let me
pay for and pump my own gas. On Valen-
tine’s Day.
It wasn’t as if I missed dating. I was
starting a writing career and had a good
job in television. And because I grew up in
L.A., I had friends going back to middle
school. It was a full life. Once I swore off
men, I had some extra time. I decided to
improve my tennis game through Santa
Monica’s sports and fitness program.When I signed up for tennis classes, I
remember thinking, “Hmmm ... the be-
ginners class is probably going to be all
women and the advanced will probably be
all men.” I went for the intermediate
classes. I was still committed to my e-
man-cipation, but hope springs eternal.
When I showed up at Douglas Park at
25th Street and Wilshire Boulevard, as I
anticipated, the class was a mix of sexes.
What I remember most about walking
onto the court that day was seeing a
men’s racing bike leaning against the
fence because its seat practically came up
to my nose (I’m 5-foot-3).
I chuckled to myself, “What kind of
pituitary case rides this?”
I turned, and there he was.
Six-foot-six. Nice-looking. He would
turn out to be a really good tennis player.
And I had absolutely no romantic interest
in him. We were a friendly class, and soon
some us started hanging out together,
including, let’s call him Stretch, for lack of
imagination. I still had no romantic inter-
est. I got a neck ache just looking up at
him. Besides, he was busy chasing after
one of our classmates — a tall, perky,
athletic blond.
After a while the class ended. The
perky blond faded away, but Stretch and I
remained friends. We’d brunch at theRose Cafe, cruise the Strand and of
course play tennis.
Then one sunny Sunday I was lying out
in the backyard again and decided to go
to a movie. My roomies couldn’t go, so I
started dialing. I got all the way to the Ws
before I finally reached someone. It was
Stretch. Sure, he’d like to join me. But
how about drinks first? So we had drinks
at the old Century Plaza Hotel. Then we
tested colognes at Bullock’s in the old
Century City Shopping Center. Then we
saw “Nothing in Common” at the Plitt
Century Plaza Theater. Then, dinner at
Cafe Montana.
Stretch told me his mom was a busi-
nesswoman who owned really bad race-
horses. About his dad who had died of
MS. How he had taught emotionally
disturbed kids before becoming a CPA.
And how he had switched into intermedi-
ate tennis because there were no women
in the advanced classes.
By the end of the evening, something
had shifted in our relationship.
Then on the way home he lobbed this
into my court: Would I like to go to the
horseraces in Del Mar next weekend?
Casually adding, “We could spend the
night in La Jolla ... or come back. Up to
you.” I remember staring at the dash-
board, thinking, “Wow. A weekend away?!
We hadn’t even kissed.” My mind was
reeling. I casually said I’d think about it.
When we got to my place, he walked me
to the door and went in for a kiss. He was
on the bottom step. I was on the top.
We talked the next day. And the next.
But there was still that invitation for the
weekend in Del Mar hanging out there. It
seemed like a recipe for awkwardness.
Would we? Wouldn’t we?So I did the
logical thing: I invited him over that night
and we got it out of the way.
Of course I didn’t realize it then, but by
shutting out the clutter and chaos of
dating, I had given myself time to get to
know a truly decent man.
On April 7, we will celebrate our 30th
wedding anniversary. We raised a fabu-
lous daughter. We can take thousand-
mile car trips without getting on each
other’s nerves.
Thank you, Santa Monica parks and
rec.Denise Moss is a writer and TV producer
in L.A. She’s on Instagram @left2.write1.Leonard PengFor The TimesL.A. AFFAIRS
I took a
short yet
sweet
vacation
from
dating
BY DENISE MOSS
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