I'm notorious for not saving potential dates' numbers and instead relying on my sharp memory to decipher between 773, 312, 847, and varying area codes. After a failed date, I simply delete the message entry from my phone never to hear from the person again; I find it equally effective and rewarding. I sometimes need to scroll through texts and/or emails to figure out the name of my date, but usually just wing it hoping I'll recall en route.
As I went to meet what's-his-name, I realized that I might have wanted to implement my 5-minute rule. I hesitated as I saw him walking toward me, knowing that there would likely be no attraction. The guy did have an impressive resume with a successful Silicon Valley background coupled with a law degree so I knew he'd at least have the intelligence level I'd seek. Typical of those types of guys, however, he wore baggy jeans, chucks, and a bright blue Patagonia? jacket very much living the carefree California style.
Within a few minutes, I gathered he was nervous. His rapid-fire conversation was a lot to take in as well as his need to loud talk in a place that had maybe 8 bar seats (quiet to say the least). I tried to counter with an almost whisper-level until I finally had to tell him that he was being quite noisy. The conversation wasn't terrible; he didn't run out of things to say and there was never an awkward silence moment. While I could tell he was incredibly smart, I knew that he lacked a certain coolness factor that would ever make me want to hang out with him socially. I was determined to simply enjoy my wine and be home before bedtime and just make the best of it.
From my vantage point, I could see onto the street and found some entertainment in watching people walk by, commenting on anyone of interest. Little did I know that someone of interest would be walking by with his new lady friend. Remember the checklist guy from my intro? Yep, the one who had everything I thought I'd want in a suitor. Well, he happened to walk by and look into this tiny place just as I was looking out. We made eye contact. Prolonged eye contact, long enough for his face to go pale for a moment then have him promptly compose himself as if nothing happened. He then entered the restaurant with his lady and I slightly turned expecting some sort of civil acknowledgement (tiny wave, head nod, something). He did none of those things. He instead looked straight past me and walked to the hostess stand where they were then sat with another couple. I was pissed.
I wasn't hoping for some grand conversation or even a 'hello', but would have hoped for some courtesy at his age and apparent level of sophistication. Of course I told my date about this because I was clearly flustered. I give him credit for suggesting us getting a drink elsewhere, but my pride wouldn't let me leave my post (or the idea of resetting the date clock). I stuck it out and finished my date knowing that in no way did the (lack of) encounter influence my opinion of my date. He gave me the most awkward hug when we parted and I proceeded to delete his number as I walked to my car.
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