I went to his nail salon and told him exactly why I was there

I met Jason at a club on a night when I almost went home early.

My name is Brooke. I am 44, white, blonde, and full-figured. I had gone out with two friends who thought I needed to have more fun after spending nearly a year doing nothing but working and staying home.

A man at the club kept trying to dance with me even after I moved away several times.

I finally told him I was not interested, but he continued following me.

Jason noticed what was happening. He stepped beside me and calmly asked whether everything was okay.

The man complained for a moment, then walked away.

Jason stayed nearby until I found my friends.

He was 30, Vietnamese, and much younger than the men I normally dated. He was also confident without acting aggressive.

We talked for about fifteen minutes.

Jason told me he owned a nail salon in Solvang. I joked that he had probably noticed how badly I needed a manicure.

He laughed and gave me the salon’s business card.

For the next few days, I kept thinking about him.

I knew he might have only been helping me because he was a decent person. Still, I wanted to see him again.

So I made an appointment at his salon.

Jason looked surprised when I walked in, but he remembered me immediately.

He was busy managing the front desk and helping several nail techs, so another employee started my manicure.

I could have pretended I was there only for my nails.

Instead, when Jason came over to greet me, I told him the truth.

I said my nails needed work, but I had mainly come because I wanted to know him better.

One of his employees heard me and started laughing.

Jason looked embarrassed, but he was smiling.

He asked whether I was always that direct.

I told him I had spent too many years waiting for men to guess what I wanted.

When my manicure was finished, Jason sat beside me near the front desk.

He explained that he had recently ended a relationship and had not planned to start dating again so quickly.

I assumed that was his polite way of rejecting me.

I thanked him for being honest and started gathering my things.

Then he said he had not said no.

He only wanted me to understand that his schedule was difficult. He worked six days a week and often handled salon problems after closing.

I told him I was not asking him to marry me. I was asking whether he wanted to have dinner.

That made him laugh.

We went out the following Sunday.

During dinner, Jason admitted he had wanted to ask for my number at the club, but he worried I might think he had only helped me so he could flirt with me.

He was also unsure whether I would be interested because of our fourteen-year age difference.

I told him the age difference had crossed my mind, but it had not stopped me from finding his salon.

We have been dating for seven months now.

Jason still works too much, and I still speak more directly than he does.

Sometimes his employees tease him about the woman who walked into the salon and announced why she was really there.

I do not feel embarrassed.

At 44, I have learned that being clear can save a lot of wasted time.

My manicure lasted about three weeks.

Going to the salon changed much more than my nails.