My second date assessment was that it felt comfortable hanging out with him, too comfortable. It was as though all the beginning date appeal had gone out the window and we were well into our third year of dating. That year being one in my early 20's. I longed for an actual date with actual date questions about family and travel. Who would have thunk?
This man-child was definitely not reading the same script. Would date two even be considered a date at this point? or would I be best-served to classify it as an encounter? Cue me trying to be amenable. Our next hangout (there was one) stemmed from an impromptu text asking what I was doing and did I want to come out. I, being an adult, was just finishing gardening all Sunday afternoon so I was indeed available. Great. He asked for my address and asked to pick me up. Not bad, I thought. I can be spontaneous. Pick-up time in 10 minutes. Be ready, he said. Oh and he's with his friend, if that's okay.
I can be happy-go-lucky! I'm not going to let him think that I'm assessing this situation in any other way. Once I got into the uber, I could tell that these gentlemen were rounding an extremely fun Sunday. Actually, I had to profusely apologize to the driver for their childlike behavior. BE FUN! We went to the same bar as the week before because clearly mayor status can only be obtained through consecutive visits. The guys danced like idiots which did amuse me and I vowed not to appear uptight in any way. I did refuse to take any shots because it was afterall, 7pm on a Sunday and ain't nobody got time for that.
His friend rightfully sent himself home and I was attempting conversation with the survivor. He ended up getting into an argument with me insinuating that my football bar was actually "his" bar and that my friend and founder of the football fan club was only friends with her friends because of him. Not only was that blatantly incorrect, but it was also infuriating as I couldn't have a coherent argument with this man. I discovered that I knew his long-term ex through said friend and he asked me to never ask my friend about him. Sure, that's reasonable. What would you expect any female to do armed with this sort of information? (For the record, I did not ask her about him till he was no longer a factor.) I left that Sunday proud of myself for being spontaneous and with little less than party boy expectations of the man-child.
Hey, he might be fun to have around. By this point, I was sure no romance was abound, but I did agree to go out with him again. I like to dig my own grave, ya see? This time he actually made a plan! Days in advance! I was kidded into thinking he'd make an adjustment. We went for pizza. I didn't wear heels. He wore torn jeans and an ill-fitting striped Abercrombie polo. Yep, exactly what you're picturing. I couldn't refrain from making a comment. He argued that because he wears a suit and tie every day, he should be able to do what he wants outside of work. My whole "appearances account for judgments" argument fell on deaf ears. I just shook my head.
And that was the end of the man-child. I did invite him to another funday in the coming weeks, but ignored him to enjoy the company of my far more mature friends. He showed up wearing another Abercrombie polo and sported sunglasses worn on the back of his head. Old habits die hard.
I learned that although my twenties were a most enjoyable time, my thirties dictated the need for a very different type of man.
Monday, May 30, 2016
Friday, May 20, 2016
Ease Into It
Date one did not instantly lead to second date planning, but I knew I'd see the guy again. I did not, however, expect that plan to be another last minute text to hangout. I'd usually have reservations about removing the whole "I'm too busy for an impromptu plan" facade, but I did have a great time on our first date. I also told myself to relax and just see where it goes, which is increasingly difficult in my progressing years.
My definition of a date was surely in contrast to his as I agreed to come over in sweats to watch playoff hockey. I'm an avid sports fan and certainly enjoy catching a game, but the lack of pretension on date two was a bit unsettling. I went for it. This is the new carefree me! Thank goodness my post-college "sweat" attire consists almost exclusively of lululemon; thank the lord for the creation of athleisure wear. On the way, he texted me reminding me that I did not have to be dressed up. Ya think??
When I walked into his apartment, I was reminded of the mention of a roommate so I had to ask if he was home. Now if this isn't a red flag for a man on the other side of his 30's, I don't know what is. But I vowed to keep an open mind. He was, afterall, quite good-looking and a lot of fun so far. He obviously got the casual memo as he donned Abercrombie sweats and a well-worn college sweatshirt. Right. I was instantly transported to my college, post-college years which filled me with nostalgia. If only he offered me a Natty Light leftover from last night's kegger.
At least we could watch sports together...which is what we did. His team was clearly going to lose which I guess prompted him to change the direction of his evening. I can't recall the last time I had a guy just go in for a make-out with no indication of interest, but I guess my presence alone was enough of a go ahead. I'm actually chuckling as I write this because wow, hindsight. He pulled the "come over and lay with me" move circa 2005. Maybe he wanted to rekindle our bar chemistry? I obliged because man-child or not, he still looked as he did and I give some credit for his charisma. We had a proper couch make-out until we heard his roommate coming home. Again, waves of nostalgia flowed over me. I was 25 again! Thankfully, it was getting late and I had my trusty bedtime out. He assured me that it didn't matter if his roommate was around because he'd leave us alone and he's "never home anyway". Why is this even an issue for a 36-year old man??
I left his place convincing myself to not be so dismissive and to give him another chance if he asked. By partaking in the couch session, I had willingly let him believe that I had some sort of feelings for him. It wasn't that I didn't like him. I did. I liked his company and he did keep complimenting me. I also toyed with the telling of the "here's how we met" story in the future which would make for some good conversation. Think about the wedding toasts! Somewhere inside this cold heart lies a hopeless romantic who can be blinded by even the reddest of flags.
My definition of a date was surely in contrast to his as I agreed to come over in sweats to watch playoff hockey. I'm an avid sports fan and certainly enjoy catching a game, but the lack of pretension on date two was a bit unsettling. I went for it. This is the new carefree me! Thank goodness my post-college "sweat" attire consists almost exclusively of lululemon; thank the lord for the creation of athleisure wear. On the way, he texted me reminding me that I did not have to be dressed up. Ya think??
When I walked into his apartment, I was reminded of the mention of a roommate so I had to ask if he was home. Now if this isn't a red flag for a man on the other side of his 30's, I don't know what is. But I vowed to keep an open mind. He was, afterall, quite good-looking and a lot of fun so far. He obviously got the casual memo as he donned Abercrombie sweats and a well-worn college sweatshirt. Right. I was instantly transported to my college, post-college years which filled me with nostalgia. If only he offered me a Natty Light leftover from last night's kegger.
At least we could watch sports together...which is what we did. His team was clearly going to lose which I guess prompted him to change the direction of his evening. I can't recall the last time I had a guy just go in for a make-out with no indication of interest, but I guess my presence alone was enough of a go ahead. I'm actually chuckling as I write this because wow, hindsight. He pulled the "come over and lay with me" move circa 2005. Maybe he wanted to rekindle our bar chemistry? I obliged because man-child or not, he still looked as he did and I give some credit for his charisma. We had a proper couch make-out until we heard his roommate coming home. Again, waves of nostalgia flowed over me. I was 25 again! Thankfully, it was getting late and I had my trusty bedtime out. He assured me that it didn't matter if his roommate was around because he'd leave us alone and he's "never home anyway". Why is this even an issue for a 36-year old man??
I left his place convincing myself to not be so dismissive and to give him another chance if he asked. By partaking in the couch session, I had willingly let him believe that I had some sort of feelings for him. It wasn't that I didn't like him. I did. I liked his company and he did keep complimenting me. I also toyed with the telling of the "here's how we met" story in the future which would make for some good conversation. Think about the wedding toasts! Somewhere inside this cold heart lies a hopeless romantic who can be blinded by even the reddest of flags.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Bringing That Old Thing Back
After recovering from my indigestion, I was ready to get back on that bumble scene. I had been chatting with another handsome man after date 2 had fizzled and had been real phone (not app) texting all weekend. Something about him looked very familiar in his pictures and I racked my brain to figure out if we'd been on a date in the past. After some serious consideration, I realized where I've met him before!
With that, we continued to talk and a Sunday morning text turned into an impromptu brunch date on his way back from the airport. Once I met him, I knew that I had definitely knew this man. Surprisingly, I wasn't one to divulge this information off the bat. We endured a fairly long wait for brunch, but found easy conversation over coffee; he even brought me a kitschy souvenir from his trip. All the first date jitters were completely absent and that level of comfort allowed me to be myself.
Once we sat and ordered a midday cocktail, the weight of my secret knowledge proved too much to bear. I looked and him and said that we've met before to which he exclaimed, "I knew it!" His memory was just as foggy, but he said he knew the second he saw me that I wasn't a stranger.
I did, however, recall the exact time we met and under what circumstances. Thanks to my relentless pre-smart phone, photography skills, I used to take millions of pictures with my digital camera. Yes, that included snaps while out and about at the bar, documenting many a stranger on the way. I pulled up facebook and dug through the archives to present exhibit A: a photo I had taken with him almost 10 years ago. He looked the same. I had transitioned through many a hairstyle and waistline since then. I then recalled that we not only took a photo, but we had several bar make-out experiences at that time. To be young...
After the air was cleared, we sleuthed our way through tons of mutual friends and hangouts and realized that it was incredulous that our paths had not crossed along the way. This connection instantly upgraded this from an online date to a friend date and all the pretense went out the window. Wait...shouldn't we still be trying to impress one another? We finished brunch and opted for a new locale, his Sunday hangout (which apparently was a big deal). He was clearly a bar regular here knowing every female in a 20 foot radius, an ex-girlfriend included. I would have normally been at least a bit uncomfortable, but the past and friend link really alleviated all insecurity.
After achieving mayor status, he decided we should move on and possibly invite friends who were out. I agreed opting to include my support team as well. And this is how our first date turned into a group date. Which was really fun! Meeting friends is usually left to dates 4 and beyond, but this early introduction made me feel at ease. Besides, I had my go-to to assess the situation immediately without having to Monday morning quarterback. Our friends got along swimmingly (even staying out later than us as a group) and I was hopeful for a second date. 2 for 2, bumble.
With that, we continued to talk and a Sunday morning text turned into an impromptu brunch date on his way back from the airport. Once I met him, I knew that I had definitely knew this man. Surprisingly, I wasn't one to divulge this information off the bat. We endured a fairly long wait for brunch, but found easy conversation over coffee; he even brought me a kitschy souvenir from his trip. All the first date jitters were completely absent and that level of comfort allowed me to be myself.
Once we sat and ordered a midday cocktail, the weight of my secret knowledge proved too much to bear. I looked and him and said that we've met before to which he exclaimed, "I knew it!" His memory was just as foggy, but he said he knew the second he saw me that I wasn't a stranger.
I did, however, recall the exact time we met and under what circumstances. Thanks to my relentless pre-smart phone, photography skills, I used to take millions of pictures with my digital camera. Yes, that included snaps while out and about at the bar, documenting many a stranger on the way. I pulled up facebook and dug through the archives to present exhibit A: a photo I had taken with him almost 10 years ago. He looked the same. I had transitioned through many a hairstyle and waistline since then. I then recalled that we not only took a photo, but we had several bar make-out experiences at that time. To be young...
After the air was cleared, we sleuthed our way through tons of mutual friends and hangouts and realized that it was incredulous that our paths had not crossed along the way. This connection instantly upgraded this from an online date to a friend date and all the pretense went out the window. Wait...shouldn't we still be trying to impress one another? We finished brunch and opted for a new locale, his Sunday hangout (which apparently was a big deal). He was clearly a bar regular here knowing every female in a 20 foot radius, an ex-girlfriend included. I would have normally been at least a bit uncomfortable, but the past and friend link really alleviated all insecurity.
After achieving mayor status, he decided we should move on and possibly invite friends who were out. I agreed opting to include my support team as well. And this is how our first date turned into a group date. Which was really fun! Meeting friends is usually left to dates 4 and beyond, but this early introduction made me feel at ease. Besides, I had my go-to to assess the situation immediately without having to Monday morning quarterback. Our friends got along swimmingly (even staying out later than us as a group) and I was hopeful for a second date. 2 for 2, bumble.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Peaked Too Soon
After the end of the second date, I adopted a completely blase attitude toward the guy. I searched for some sort of longing for a text, only to realize that I really didn't care either way; I wasn't all that jazzed about seeing him again. He did text and did ask for another date and I agreed. I suppose I should have declined if I was losing interest, but one thing I learned from Aziz Ansari is that you don't really get to know someone until dates 4-5. I was heeding his advice and giving this guy a chance.
He suggested another Saturday night date this time to share yet another favorite cuisine of ours, Indian. Now I don't put Indian food anywhere in the date-food category, but we both love it and I was steadily losing interest. I really had nothing to lose. I bumped the date to an early 6pm for a Saturday, giving me ample chance to leave and meet friends if things got hairy. Upon seeing him, the date one flame had formally fizzled. The restaurant was lively enough for the old bird dinner hour and I knew I could at least direct the conversation to people watching.
He got points for giving me free reign of the menu since I had lots of suggestions on what we should order. The service was painfully slow for a date that wouldn't end and I sat bored while listening him talk about who knows what. It's amazing how quickly perception of a situation changes once emotions (and alcohol content) are limited.
I was happy once the food arrived so I could focus on the task at hand and really had no choice but to stifle conversation. So I ate. And I ate. And I ate some more. I ate my fair share of naan and much of my main. Even as I was starting to get uncomfortably full, I reminded the waitress of a forgotten appetizer because I was planning to make the most out of this meal. This is another reason I firmly blacklist Indian food from dates; I simply cannot stop eating it. Had I cared about being lady-like, I would have stopped once I felt the slightest bit full, but I was well past that point. The curries and pungent flavors lured me in a way no man could.
I then had an epiphany. This was my out. I would eat my way out of this date. I would eat to a most uncomfortable level and then insist on going home because I felt ill. This was all-too-easy of a task. My dinner companion stopped long ago, but I wouldn't be deterred by an unworthy opponent. I did finish my entire entree and well as all my rice as well as most of the unnecessary appetizer. I was in a tailspin straight past food coma and into physical pain. I insisted that I ate too much (duh) and couldn't help it (partially true) and that it'd be best for me to call it a night. He suggested we "walk it off" for a bit and my pitiful attempt at relief only sustained me for four blocks. He finally acquiesced when I almost sprinted after an available cab. I had to go home. He understood. I apologized profusely (white lie) and he replied, "I know you'd stay out if you felt better." If he only knew.
Of all the ways I've tried to get out of dates, this was by far the best tactic. Sure it came with physical discomfort, but it also came with mountains of baingan bharta and garlic naan. I was overly full, home by 9, and out of spending the rest of the evening with this man. I pat myself on the back.
He texted the next day to see how I was feeling (I know what you're thinking). I had made a full recovery and he asked me on another date for the coming week.
I responded with a direct and what I consider polite response, "I think we peaked on our first date."
He responded, "fair enough."
Indeed it was.
He suggested another Saturday night date this time to share yet another favorite cuisine of ours, Indian. Now I don't put Indian food anywhere in the date-food category, but we both love it and I was steadily losing interest. I really had nothing to lose. I bumped the date to an early 6pm for a Saturday, giving me ample chance to leave and meet friends if things got hairy. Upon seeing him, the date one flame had formally fizzled. The restaurant was lively enough for the old bird dinner hour and I knew I could at least direct the conversation to people watching.
He got points for giving me free reign of the menu since I had lots of suggestions on what we should order. The service was painfully slow for a date that wouldn't end and I sat bored while listening him talk about who knows what. It's amazing how quickly perception of a situation changes once emotions (and alcohol content) are limited.
I was happy once the food arrived so I could focus on the task at hand and really had no choice but to stifle conversation. So I ate. And I ate. And I ate some more. I ate my fair share of naan and much of my main. Even as I was starting to get uncomfortably full, I reminded the waitress of a forgotten appetizer because I was planning to make the most out of this meal. This is another reason I firmly blacklist Indian food from dates; I simply cannot stop eating it. Had I cared about being lady-like, I would have stopped once I felt the slightest bit full, but I was well past that point. The curries and pungent flavors lured me in a way no man could.
I then had an epiphany. This was my out. I would eat my way out of this date. I would eat to a most uncomfortable level and then insist on going home because I felt ill. This was all-too-easy of a task. My dinner companion stopped long ago, but I wouldn't be deterred by an unworthy opponent. I did finish my entire entree and well as all my rice as well as most of the unnecessary appetizer. I was in a tailspin straight past food coma and into physical pain. I insisted that I ate too much (duh) and couldn't help it (partially true) and that it'd be best for me to call it a night. He suggested we "walk it off" for a bit and my pitiful attempt at relief only sustained me for four blocks. He finally acquiesced when I almost sprinted after an available cab. I had to go home. He understood. I apologized profusely (white lie) and he replied, "I know you'd stay out if you felt better." If he only knew.
Of all the ways I've tried to get out of dates, this was by far the best tactic. Sure it came with physical discomfort, but it also came with mountains of baingan bharta and garlic naan. I was overly full, home by 9, and out of spending the rest of the evening with this man. I pat myself on the back.
He texted the next day to see how I was feeling (I know what you're thinking). I had made a full recovery and he asked me on another date for the coming week.
I responded with a direct and what I consider polite response, "I think we peaked on our first date."
He responded, "fair enough."
Indeed it was.
Monday, May 2, 2016
High Expectations
After falling in love, I was counting down the days till our second date. I met with friends to watch basketball and found myself smiling every time I received a text message. I spilled about my date and they were all supportive of my budding relationship. My date was scheduled post-game and I realized that I'd have no time to get home; he offered to pick me up in a cab and then go to the restaurant. I mean, really!
When he arrived, we kissed hello and only experienced a few moments of awkward silence. We decided on a pre-meal cocktail which took us to a divey bar close to dinner. Within a few sips, I realized that this guy talked. A. LOT. Like he hadn't let me get in a word since I got into the cab. Maybe it was my unrealistic expectations or my lack of wine, but I found myself wondering if I could spend the rest of my life listening to him ramble. I realized that I was likely over-analyzing the situation and vowed to enjoy my Saturday night. He did snag a prime spot after all!
We finished our apertifs (can beer be considered an apertif??... I doubt it) and headed towards dinner. I liked that he walked on the street side and always went in front to make sure he was opening and holding the door for me. Good manners are hard to find these days. Even though he made a reservation, the popular restaurant pick made us wait to be seated and that visibly annoyed my date. I donned my most insouciant attitude and diverted his attention with witty banter. My forte.
Once seated, I eagerly awaited trying my fresh-from-Tokyo sake that I decided to bring for the occasion. Husband potential warrants a splurge. Once poured, I incessantly talked about the qualities of the product and even shook my head at my own pretentiousness. He laughed. We agree on sushi selections and when served, were able to enjoy the meal in ample company. As dinner went on, however, I was realizing that the sake wasn't providing the lusty haze of date one wine and I kept feeling more irritated than stimulated by my companion. This too will pass. I vowed to keep an open mind and not dismiss him as I normally would. By the end of the date, I rationalized that I was overthinking the situation and that maybe another date would break the tie.
When he arrived, we kissed hello and only experienced a few moments of awkward silence. We decided on a pre-meal cocktail which took us to a divey bar close to dinner. Within a few sips, I realized that this guy talked. A. LOT. Like he hadn't let me get in a word since I got into the cab. Maybe it was my unrealistic expectations or my lack of wine, but I found myself wondering if I could spend the rest of my life listening to him ramble. I realized that I was likely over-analyzing the situation and vowed to enjoy my Saturday night. He did snag a prime spot after all!
We finished our apertifs (can beer be considered an apertif??... I doubt it) and headed towards dinner. I liked that he walked on the street side and always went in front to make sure he was opening and holding the door for me. Good manners are hard to find these days. Even though he made a reservation, the popular restaurant pick made us wait to be seated and that visibly annoyed my date. I donned my most insouciant attitude and diverted his attention with witty banter. My forte.
Once seated, I eagerly awaited trying my fresh-from-Tokyo sake that I decided to bring for the occasion. Husband potential warrants a splurge. Once poured, I incessantly talked about the qualities of the product and even shook my head at my own pretentiousness. He laughed. We agree on sushi selections and when served, were able to enjoy the meal in ample company. As dinner went on, however, I was realizing that the sake wasn't providing the lusty haze of date one wine and I kept feeling more irritated than stimulated by my companion. This too will pass. I vowed to keep an open mind and not dismiss him as I normally would. By the end of the date, I rationalized that I was overthinking the situation and that maybe another date would break the tie.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)