Leah Haydock - Love and Pasta

 

 

The year I turned 40, I wondered if my husband might surprise me with a party or a trip away. I did not expect a divorce, because I didn't ski. Just like that, I found myself a 40-year-old divorcee with sole custody of two 15-year-old incontinent miniature dachshunds. [audience laughter] Nowhere was that in my life plan. And so, I had to come up with a new plan and I moved from Maine to Boston. As luck would have it, around the corner from my apartment was a restaurant that in my opinion sold the best pasta in the whole of Boston. I would go in there and they had this strozzapreti dish, and it was hand rolled twister pasta with tender braised rabbit and rosemary and picholine olives. I would have eaten there every single night, except for it was like nearly $30 for a bowl and carbs. [audience laughter] 

 

So, I set myself a rule that I could only go in there on my very, very, very worst days, because we all know it's better to eat your feelings than feel them. [audience laughter] So, at first, I was eating quite a lot of pasta. [audience laughter] The day the final decree came in the mail, I was like, “That deserves some strozzapreti.” And a couple of weeks later, when I found the online wedding pictures of his remarriage to a much younger, heavily pregnant new wife, I was like, “Yeah, that definitely deserves pasta.” [audience laughter] 

 

I would go into the restaurant, I would have maybe put a sweater on top of my pajama top and I would just go in there, order my pasta, order my wine, not really want to talk to anyone. And normally, I'm quite sociable, but not on the very worst days. But there was this one guy who worked at the restaurant called Ethan, and he would try and talk to me, but then I would open up my book and he would leave me alone. But at the end of dinner, he would always bring over with the check, like a little scoop of gelato, which would have been really nice, except I don't have a sweet tooth, so I just angrily mush it around in the bowl. [audience laughter] 

 

And then, eventually, I was having less bad days. I didn't want to be alone forever, so I knew that meant it was time to start dating. That was completely new for me, because the last time I had gone on a date was never. Everything is just so new in terms of technology. So, I downloaded the apps and I figured out the correct direction for the swiping. [audience laughter] 

 

I was so clueless. This one guy messaged me and said, “Are you an LTR kind of girl?” And I was like, “LTR?” which I now know means long-term relationship, but I somehow found “Live to rage” on Urban Dictionary [audience laughter] I wrote back and I said, well, I like a glass of wine or two with dinner, but I probably wouldn't say I'm a rager. [audience laughter] I took advantage of all the technology, because there's so many filters and I was filtering for everything. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted, and I chose all these criteria that basically described my ex-husband. I think I thought, well, I'll find another him, but maybe this one will love me. 

 

And so, I started going on the dates. I went on so many first dates that never led to a second date. But they were never quite bad enough to go and eat the pasta. [audience laughter] That continued to give me hope. Plus, I'm a wedding photographer. And in the last year, I photographed numerous weddings from Hinge, and JDate, and Facebook and all sorts of different apps. So, I just kept persevering. 

 

One night, my date pounded five beers, ordered three shrimp dishes, despite my shellfish aversion. Let me pay the check. And then, got really weirdly creepy about giving me a ride home. I blurted out some excuse and literally ran out of the restaurant and walked home disheartened and really hungry and decided-- That was a pretty bad date, so I think that just deserves some pasta, silver lining. 

 

So, I walked into the restaurant and I deliberately didn't sit in Ethan's section. I was like, “I'm not dealing with that ice cream thing.” [audience laughter] I've got my pasta and I'm eating it. He comes over anyway and tops up my wine, which I really didn't need any more of. He also gives me this giant plate of broccolini. Because I've had a few glasses of wine, I'm like, “Do you think I don't eat enough vegetables?” [audience laughter] He looks at me and I say, do you feel sorry for me, because I'm always alone? He looks at me, really looks at me, and says, “How could I feel sorry for you when you've got all that going on?” 

 

I turn beet red. Wanted to put my head in my bowl of pasta. But like the grown adult I am, I sent a group text to my happily married girlfriends, [audience laughter] because they're a great source of dating advice. [audience laughter] They told me to leave my number. I was like, “I don't leave my number for people in restaurants.” Alex pointed out that I had gone on so many dates with so many guys who met all of my criteria, and they'd all been awful and maybe I should just leave my number for the guy who brought me ice cream. 

 

I did leave my number with a note that said, “Should you choose not to call. We must pretend this never happened, [audience laughter] because I need to be able to come in here and eat strozzapreti on my really bad days.” [audience laughter] He texted at the end of his shift and he said, “I would never come between a woman and her pasta. That would be a cruel and egregious act, and I am not that man.” [audience laughter] And a year later, we're in an LTR. [audience laughter] [audience cheers and applause] 

 

And technology may have changed the way we date, but not the way we love. Thank you.