I’ve been dreadfully behind on my dating updates…as I said, had to deal with mood indigo first. But that’s passing. Today was a nice day that ended on an odd note.
Maybe all I needed was actual sleep. The trials and tribulations of a chronic insomniac…
Anyways, I owe a further report of my date last week but that deserves a post of its own. Tonight…well…had one of those impromptu date things…yippee! Or is it yippee???
Let’s set the scene. Had a nice day at work. Boss man wasn’t in and THAT’S ALWAYS A GOOD THING. Did my business and found myself in a very serene and happy mood. It’s rare but when it comes, I appreciate.
Left work and figured I’d have a cozy night in. I was craving a burger and fries. Ordered it and was on my way to pick it up when I got sidetracked by my local wine store and their wine tasting…
After buying two bottles of wine and nursing a nice buzz, I finally picked up my food. Got it home and proceeded to chow. With my mouth stuffed with meat and my hands dripping from its grease, my phone buzzed. Say what?! I know that buzz. My special buzz – my online dating app buzz. Woot!
Slide. Click. Click. Send. Voila! It was Hurricane Man. During the lower Manhattan blackout, I was BORED OUT OF MY MIND. As I was in no way getting hurricane laid, I was simply staring at inanimate objects in my house hoping they would start to talk. I do not do well when I’m forced to stay alone for over 24 hours. New fact I learned about myself.
Anyways, Hurricane guy buzzed me and asked to meet the day after Sandy. Due to the lack of transportation, it didn’t seem like a likely scenario…even if he had a bike. The dude was 40 blocks away and not really great with the app. Took him FOREVER to reply. Turns out the day after the storm was his birthday…uh, awkward and not good fodder for a first date. I mean if it’s a bad date, I don’t want to be a birthday ruiner! So we left it up in the air…
In my head, I had decided to not be proactive with this one. He can find me. Screw it. I was curious to meet but the storm had made me stir crazy. He was a fella I was on the fence about. Due to my boredom, I was more open to meeting but not brokenhearted if we didn’t. Not to say he was not attractive – he was…but I wasn’t THAT intrigued. I know. Way to start something right? Whatever. It’s pictures and words on a computer. You try to get excited EVERY TIME a date pops up.
I digress. Anyways, the man disappeared. Figured as such. I double checked his profile a few weeks later and poof…no more profile. Yesterday, while signing into the app, I noticed he was back. Eh. I’m not making any moves.
Guess I didn’t have to. Cuz guess who came knocking at my door tonight? That’s right. Sigh…and just when I was ready to sit down with my full tummy watching “The Voice,” alternating my snarky remarks about Xtina’s clothing choices while getting swept up in the drama of people singing on my TV to entertain me. Yes. And only for me.
Fuck it. I’ll meet the Hurricane Man. I would prefer to do it tomorrow but had a feeling it was better to rip the bandaid off tonight. Besides, I could walk to the bar and home within 10 minutes. If he buys me a drink…win win I say.
So we begin the chat…this is the fun part. Fucker doesn’t remember me. Writes to me like a brand new gal but this time, with better grammar. Maybe he took some etiquette lessons during these past few weeks? We’ll never know…dun dun dun…
I could ignore the fact that he “forgot” me but please…like that’s my style. I did it low key but come on now, we chatted before (dipshit). To his credit, he answered it with a measure of tact – “Ah…I thought you looked familiar.” Some could read it as dickish but me…I read it as…”oh man, I’m a dickwad but I’m being playful about it…I’ll buy you a drink and then you’ll forgive me?”
Oh, the siren call of sweet alcohol. Sweet lady of intoxication. Come to me.
Despite my burning need to be a happy homebody tonight, I agreed to meet. And we’re off.
As I said, I was caught up in “The Voice” and ran a bit late. The chick was REALLY good. I HAD to hear what the judges had to say. Geez. Luckily, he was running late too. He texted and told me so. He got points for that. Good manners.
Still got there earlier than him and chatted with the bartender…as I do. OH! But before I sit down, I see a guy at the bar. He eyes me too. Why? Who? And then it hits me. OMG. He’s a guy on the site. A guy who asked me out at least twice and I totally rejected him (and by reject I mean I ignored his emails). As I was sitting and deciding on what drink to imbibe, I went through the mini rolodex of online profile images and DING DING DING…he was a guy I deemed a douche. A wannabe looking frat boy. I was wrong. He is a complete nerdling with a thing for Asian girls. How do I know? Cuz his date was Asian and in one of his profile pictures, he’s standing next to his Asian male friend. Clearly, he feels at home with his yellow pals. Ew. My instincts were a little off but mostly right.
Dodged that bullet. Yay me…but sadly, I did not dodge the one coming at me in one, two, three…ah and here he is.
He walked through the door and my immediate impression – hmmm…shorter. Much. Shorter. Whatever. They’re all shorter but I think this guy might be short enough to have lied. Eh. He seemed like a hugger so I gave him one when we met. Shortness is easier to deal with when we are sitting down. Know what isn’t easier to deal with? A soft talker. And a perpetually creepy smiler. Oh yes. The magic combo.
Let me start by saying, he seems like a very nice person. But I knew before he ordered his drink, this was a date that had no hope for another. For one thing, I literally had to ask him to repeat almost everything he said when he sat down. After awhile, I must have gotten used to his speech volume cuz I stopped bugging him to REPEAT GODDAMIT REPEAT. Oh, and I’ve never felt like such a loud obnoxious bitch in all my life. Not that he noticed but more on that later.
So me and Hurricane Guy didn’t have a particular flow of any sort with our conversation. Between his inability to speak at a normal volume, he also would let every fucking subject grind to a halt. Not only that, he didn’t find me funny. I know enough that when I start a story, I have to know my audience. How they’ll respond. How my punchlines will fall. OMG. The second I started, I knew I should stop. Instead of laughing, he thought my story was SAD! What I should have done at this moment was get the bill and walk out. But as I am a polite girl, I just sat there. To my credit, I think I was just dumbfounded that this idiot didn’t find me funny. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?! Moron.
So. Many. Silences.
This time around, instead of asking a shit ton of questions, I just let them sit. Sigh. I can’t win. Instead I was rewarded with awkward smiles. After the umpteenth smile, I wanted to roll my eyes and shake him. I wanted to scream…hey, this sucks right? Let’s just say good-bye. But we sat. And smiled. And I grew more attached to the wall behind me.
Body language. I’m starting to read men better when it comes to me. The comfort. The attraction. I think I get it but clearly, I’m still missing a few ingredients. To me, I don’t understand how a man can be into me if we can’t even talk like humans. Ah but men are visual creatures. I suppose I should be flattered he found me attractive. I am not. Not really. Well, maybe a little but no.
So my drink is winding down and he comments at how we are at the same pace – drink wise. Seriously? THIS…is what we have resorted to. Yah. Uh huh. I nod politely. A horribly stiff, insincere smile plastered across my face. I think my face started to hurt after awhile as I tried to return every awkward smile during every awkward silence. So. Many. Muscles. In my face.
Suddenly, I start to notice how he’s inching closer. Not just his body but the bar stool. And I’m moving back closer to the wall. Does he notice this? Nope. Cuz he’s an idiot. So now I have to woman up and tell him the deal – “I’m not feeling much of a connection here. Do you feel the same?” This is LITERALLY what I had to say.
His expression slightly falls but I am soooooo past the point of caring. He says (softly), “Oh, I was kinda feeling one.” Buddy, I don’t think THAT’S what you were feeling. And ew.
I wrap it up and thank him for coming down to meet me. The bill shows up and he asks if we go dutch. I do find it mildly tacky but at the same time, I just bruised his ego. Fair enough. In the back of my mind, though, I wanted to say – you forgot me, I had to remind you and now cuz you’re idiotic and can’t read signals, I have to pay for my own drink?! Lameass.
Instead, I SMILED, gave him a hug and ran away…or walked away quickly. However you want to put it.
Good times I say. Oh and the Asian loving guy I rejected. The irony! He was having a great time with the girl he met. Good on him but ehhh…I know I still made the right choice on that one. Blergh.
So what have I learned tonight? Go with the initial instinct. If it’s eh and I’m bored, it’s still eh and eh for a reason. Also, musicians and me still do not go together. For some reason, I keep attracting the world’s most boring, soft-spoken (literally) musicians EVER. Ugh. Onwards!
Upcoming dates…well, I have two on the agenda and hoping they actually work out. One is Saturday. New guy and he remains nicknameless at the moment. He might be foreign – not sure. His profile was erased shortly after he contacted me. My powers of deduction say this – he’s over the site and I’m one of the last chicks, if not the last gal he contacted. Success dear sir. Success. Suffice to say, I have mild excitement over this one. But with recent debacles like this one, it keeps a gal’s expectations low. Let’s just say I hope he’s fun, funny and finds me to be the same.
The other date…it’s to be determined but that one deserves another posting for another night. Oh but sneak preview…this would be a second date. Dun dun dun…tune in for the next installment…
Happy hunting y’all! š
bornoutofbourbon 