Is it smart to show up for a first date directly after rapidly consuming two Vodka/Sodas at a bar a couple doors down from the restaurant? Probably not. But I did. And apparently it was ok because post-date he emailed to say that he'd like to see me again, either this weekend or early next week. So, new strategy: first date always better when slightly inebriated.
Kidding, guys. This was a poor decision but as per usual I arrived much earlier than I thought I would. I wasn't really in the mood to have a date to tell you the truth, so I stopped at one of my favorite local spots and got a couple drinks at the bar to pass the time until we were supposed to meet. I think that despite this being Date Forty Nine, I was also a bit nervous given recent events with WTF and the resurfacing of a certain cokehead XBF (mentioned him briefly in an earlier post) ... I couldn't help but wonder what karma/the lord/the cosmos had in store for me next since I feel like I've just been shit on recently. But, happy news! While at the bar I actually ended up having a delightful conversation with the fellow sitting next to me ... a friend of mine once said that she really liked the online scene because it put her in a dating frame of mind. A year ago, I probably wouldn't have felt as comfortable or been as eager to speak with a random guy at a bar ... maybe I'll run into him again. Who knows?
Onto the night's scheduled activity: dinner at a little Italian place. He suggested it after we exchanged messages about the absolute awesomeness of all Italian food. I looked at the menu online pre-date and found several items that sounded tasty and noticed that the prices were a bit, um, pricey (eek!). I rolled out of the bar a couple minutes before we were to meet and actually walked by the place the first time, then had to double back. This did not ease my paranoia that maybe, just maybe, I was too buzzed to be making a decent first impression but like a deer caught in the headlights, I had nowhere to turn. I was seated at a small table in the practically barren dining room and gulped water while waiting for him to arrive. A few minutes later, he emerged and took the seat across from me. Let the games begin ...
Ok, the first five minutes of this date were PAINFUL. He was really quiet and I was probably way too chatty (Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol ... do you guys know that song? So terrible, yet so true). Once we'd settled in, ordered some wine, and perused the menu, things kind of settled down to being more comfortable. I excused myself to the ladie's room and after finishing my business, looked myself straight in the mirror and tried to get it together. I think I was pretty successful. No drinks were spilled, no food missed the mouth, and the conversation just got better and better. This guy and I hadn't really exchanged that many emails and even though I'd given him my number pre-date, he hadn't called to confirm or make plans, but rather had persisted in emailing and then gave me his number the night before telling me to call if anything changed. This kind of annoyed me. I mean, you're the man. You're supposed to call, woo, make nicey-nice and then ask me out ... and not via email. I decided not to be annoyed however, because there can be many, many innocent reasons for someone not calling to plan. Maybe they hate the phone, maybe their work schedule sucks and they get home every night at 10. I determined after conversing with this fellow that he was probably just shy. This was very cute to me and made me like him more and more as the night went on.
We finished dinner and he took the check, firmly telling me that he had it. Good job, young man. We walked out and down the street in the direction of both our houses. For me to get home, I needed to turn north and for him, he needed to go straight ahead a couple blocks. When we got to the corner, the point of possible separation, he offered to walk me home. I gladly accepted. We walked and talked the couple blocks to my building and had a nice hug goodnight. I don't remember exactly what he said, something along the lines of "had a good time, nice to meet you, I'll give you call, let's do this again" ... something vaguely positive. I said something equally as positive (and vague) and went inside.
As I said earlier, he emailed me today and asked whether I was free this weekend. I wrote back telling him that I was, minus some scattered plans and other commitment,s and haven't yet heard back. He is a really nice fellow ... he likes to cook good food ... he's healthy and has actually completed several very grueling, competitive sporting events and we have a lot in common. I realized that throughout yesterday and today, I wasn't really thinking about him. Like, I wasn't obsessing over whether he was going to contact me and ask me out again. I find this to be the main positive I've gained through this process: I've shed my past thought processes which caused me to obsess and scrutinize and freak out unnecessarily. Well, for the most part. After all, I am a smart woman and I know my worth and when someone else doesn't seem to value me, it really makes me wonder why. And then I realize that sitting in my inbox are emails from six other people who make it really easy to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and go on to Date Fifty.
Oh, and I almost forgot to nickname this one ... huh ... gimme a sec ... I got it. Henceforth, he shall be known as Freckles.
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