I set-up a date with a nerdy looking doctor because I'm apparently into that; I couldn't fault all doctors for my former's terrible bedside manner. We agreed to meet for coffee and he suggested an 8pm date. Seriously? He settled for a bit earlier and I knew I could skedaddle with exaggerated yawns if I had to.
I knew within the first minute that he and I would never be a romantic match. First off, he was about my height or a bit shorter and the greeting was as awkward as an accidental hug from a coworker. I knew I'd be carrying the weight of the conversation so I sat back and chatted endlessly. The second I had zero interest, I was able to converse uninhibited which was quite refreshing. I took a "too-cool" leaned back position and sipped my cup of tea. I didn't care about getting to know the doctor so our topics ranged from travel to school to life lessons.
In that, I asked what advice he'd give to his younger self to which he had none. Mine? Never have the third martini. He looked shocked.
Me: what?
Him: Oh, I guess I would tell myself to have a second one.
How could I possibly be expected to find true love with someone who has never experienced the exhilaration and agony and shame that accompanies a third martini??
He asked me about my foot injury ( I was really on a roll with those boot-filled first dates) and I asked him about his specialty. Are you a GP? No, I'm a nephrologist. That instantly made me grin and he asked if I knew what that meant. Oh, you said nephrologist?? Yes, I'm familiar. Let me tell you a story. I dated one recently.
Can't make this stuff up, folks. I somehow moved from Bumble to Nephrologists Only and really found myself a niche market.
I promptly painted a picture my strep laden condition and asked how he would have reacted in that situation. He told me he didn't know me well enough to want to touch my glands. Is that date 4? I guess the whole young kidney doctor thing really peaked his curiosity and he asked if he could guess the guy. Sure. Why not? There must be only a handful of eligible Chicago-based kidney docs; at this point I was more than amused. We played a game of three questions which led him to guess the guy I dated. There could not be two more physically opposite people.
This turned out to be the best thing that could happen to this coffee date and I smiled to myself for the next few minutes. He, on the other hand, was not impressed. He politely paid for our $6 check (don't impress me with your money) and called it a night. He was nice to text making sure I got home. So there was that.
Anyone looking for a good kidney doc? I have a few recommendations.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
But He's Pretty
Since I finally came out of dating hibernation, I really had to go on more than one first date. I matched with a guy who was very easy on the eyes and I was looking forward to meeting him. He insisted on a pre-date phone call which I loathe, but I did it anyway. He was a terrible phone person. Don't go suggesting that as a mode of communication when you aren't exactly well-versed. I remained open-minded and didn't dismiss him like I normally would.
Our first 'date', if you call it that, was certainly out of my comfort zone; I'm not one to go to someone's apartment on a first meeting, but the cubs game was on and I could guarantee I'd see every pitch. (I did leave the address with a friend in case I turned up dead in a dumpster) I was also granted the opportunity to judge his place without going on multiple dates.
When he opened the door, he looked exactly like my type and he wore a t-shirt and baseball cap so well. I knew I could as least look at him in silence if the conversation failed. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. I should have used the phone convo as a barometer, but I was giving him the benefit!! Talking to him was like pulling teeth and he didn't get any of my jokes (seriously??). He even had the gall to ask me what certain words meant; I don't have a Shakespearean vocabulary. I felt uncomfortable.
Somewhere during the 4th (or was it 5th) inning, I noticed that he was very close to me on the couch. I was definitely attracted to him, but had a good five innings to determine if he was dateable or not (the jury was out). His proximity implied something more to come and when he leaned over to kiss me, officer, I did not resist. Who could blame me? The kiss was good enough, but without the conversational spark, there was not much behind it. Luckily, baseball offered a much needed respite.
The next few innings went something like this: he'd kiss me and kept trying to round bases. I'd resist and insist on watching the game. He'd back off. Then the whole cycle would start all over again the next commercial break.
Me: "Listen, you don't even know me."
Him: "You can tell if you like someone pretty quickly" <-- he had a point
Me: "Ok, but we haven't even gone on an actual date" (wasn't counting this)
Him: "I'll take you to a nice dinner. Where do you want to go?"
Me; *sigh*
Fortunately, neither he or the game went into extra innings. I debated going out with him again (or for the first time) and he was kind enough to call and leave a nice message the following day. I just wasn't into it. You mean looks aren't the only things that matter?? Advice to my 24-year-old self...
His place was fine, by the way. He did decorate with extreme bachelor white leather couches which were simultaneously amusing and confusing.
Our first 'date', if you call it that, was certainly out of my comfort zone; I'm not one to go to someone's apartment on a first meeting, but the cubs game was on and I could guarantee I'd see every pitch. (I did leave the address with a friend in case I turned up dead in a dumpster) I was also granted the opportunity to judge his place without going on multiple dates.
When he opened the door, he looked exactly like my type and he wore a t-shirt and baseball cap so well. I knew I could as least look at him in silence if the conversation failed. Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. I should have used the phone convo as a barometer, but I was giving him the benefit!! Talking to him was like pulling teeth and he didn't get any of my jokes (seriously??). He even had the gall to ask me what certain words meant; I don't have a Shakespearean vocabulary. I felt uncomfortable.
Somewhere during the 4th (or was it 5th) inning, I noticed that he was very close to me on the couch. I was definitely attracted to him, but had a good five innings to determine if he was dateable or not (the jury was out). His proximity implied something more to come and when he leaned over to kiss me, officer, I did not resist. Who could blame me? The kiss was good enough, but without the conversational spark, there was not much behind it. Luckily, baseball offered a much needed respite.
The next few innings went something like this: he'd kiss me and kept trying to round bases. I'd resist and insist on watching the game. He'd back off. Then the whole cycle would start all over again the next commercial break.
Me: "Listen, you don't even know me."
Him: "You can tell if you like someone pretty quickly" <-- he had a point
Me: "Ok, but we haven't even gone on an actual date" (wasn't counting this)
Him: "I'll take you to a nice dinner. Where do you want to go?"
Me; *sigh*
Fortunately, neither he or the game went into extra innings. I debated going out with him again (or for the first time) and he was kind enough to call and leave a nice message the following day. I just wasn't into it. You mean looks aren't the only things that matter?? Advice to my 24-year-old self...
His place was fine, by the way. He did decorate with extreme bachelor white leather couches which were simultaneously amusing and confusing.
Monday, November 7, 2016
Hey Chicago, What Do You Say?
I did what any sane human would do, I pretended dating didn't exist. I swiped from the comfort of my home knowing that the Cubs had a lot of playoff games and I wouldn't have to go on any dates. I matched with guys, I let them expire. I made a few pen pals who didn't take the time to ask me out.
I finally scheduled a first date with a guy who seemed nice enough and we opted to watch a game together which gave a very easy out for any dull conversation.
I got mixed reviews on this ahead of the date as I wasn't creating an environment that elicits conversation either. I didn't mind. I had the Cubs and could at least gauge the guy's sports knowledge while we were watching (did you know who's starting in RF??). I arrived at a local bar, punctual as usual, and snagged a prime viewing spot. I received a text 2 min into our date time saying that he was just catching a cab. I knew his general proximity which told me that he was going to be cutting it close to game time. I picked 38 min before first pitch so I'd have an out and could watch the entire game at home if I didn't like him in the first 5 minutes. Now he was cutting into that time. He was also late for our first date. Not boding well for the fella. When he finally arrived (26 minutes late mind you), he gave me a hug and reeked of cologne. Ugh. Missed my peace out window.
The game started and he knew who was in right field, not a total wash at this point. The conversation was slow to start, but we repeatedly fell back on the team topic proving my first date game plan to be a superior one. Now this first date came right after I took a month off from drinking which I knew would be interesting if I had more than one drink. He knew of my lightweight condition, but was completely unprepared when a single beer threw me into a full buzz. SHIT. I'm like really buzzed. I flashed back to getting drunk on icehouse for the first time in high school and remembered every single sensation that goes along with the creeping intoxication. I felt glorious. I felt like I was getting a beer buzz for the first time in my life (oh how quickly we forget) and then I'm sure I was talking nonsense and forgot about giving fucks on dates. I think he got more interesting or at least I thought he did and that's all that matters. He was talking pitch count strategy and ball placement (he was a college catcher) and I was easily impressed. Talk baseball to me.
I ordered a second drink and settled into a happy buzz and hopefully got a little more normal. I confronted him about being late, really late. He profusely apologized and had no clue just how long it took him to get there. He said he'd make it up to me. I then confronted him about that terrible cologne. Thank goodness I did! It turns out that he'd been thinking the same exact thing since his arrival. The bandannaed biker dude next to him was the culprit and biker dude was close to being my date if the fella arrived any later. My life could have gone down a really weird path just then.
My forward nature really broke the ice with my date and I think he finally decided to relax. I asked if he was even having a good time since he had his arms crossed the whole game. He was cold. Here, feel my hands. I told you. We made contact during the date which is always a good sign. After the game, he offered to walk me the block home and was sweet enough to hold my hand during the walk. My inhibitions were dampened and I allowed a first date make-out which was quite nice. In this case, I truly believe that the addition of alcohol to my lightweight self only led to better things. I was more blunt that usual and I stuck out the date even though I was mad about him being late. He took it well. That plus his sports knowledge is a good start.
I finally scheduled a first date with a guy who seemed nice enough and we opted to watch a game together which gave a very easy out for any dull conversation.
I got mixed reviews on this ahead of the date as I wasn't creating an environment that elicits conversation either. I didn't mind. I had the Cubs and could at least gauge the guy's sports knowledge while we were watching (did you know who's starting in RF??). I arrived at a local bar, punctual as usual, and snagged a prime viewing spot. I received a text 2 min into our date time saying that he was just catching a cab. I knew his general proximity which told me that he was going to be cutting it close to game time. I picked 38 min before first pitch so I'd have an out and could watch the entire game at home if I didn't like him in the first 5 minutes. Now he was cutting into that time. He was also late for our first date. Not boding well for the fella. When he finally arrived (26 minutes late mind you), he gave me a hug and reeked of cologne. Ugh. Missed my peace out window.
The game started and he knew who was in right field, not a total wash at this point. The conversation was slow to start, but we repeatedly fell back on the team topic proving my first date game plan to be a superior one. Now this first date came right after I took a month off from drinking which I knew would be interesting if I had more than one drink. He knew of my lightweight condition, but was completely unprepared when a single beer threw me into a full buzz. SHIT. I'm like really buzzed. I flashed back to getting drunk on icehouse for the first time in high school and remembered every single sensation that goes along with the creeping intoxication. I felt glorious. I felt like I was getting a beer buzz for the first time in my life (oh how quickly we forget) and then I'm sure I was talking nonsense and forgot about giving fucks on dates. I think he got more interesting or at least I thought he did and that's all that matters. He was talking pitch count strategy and ball placement (he was a college catcher) and I was easily impressed. Talk baseball to me.
I ordered a second drink and settled into a happy buzz and hopefully got a little more normal. I confronted him about being late, really late. He profusely apologized and had no clue just how long it took him to get there. He said he'd make it up to me. I then confronted him about that terrible cologne. Thank goodness I did! It turns out that he'd been thinking the same exact thing since his arrival. The bandannaed biker dude next to him was the culprit and biker dude was close to being my date if the fella arrived any later. My life could have gone down a really weird path just then.
My forward nature really broke the ice with my date and I think he finally decided to relax. I asked if he was even having a good time since he had his arms crossed the whole game. He was cold. Here, feel my hands. I told you. We made contact during the date which is always a good sign. After the game, he offered to walk me the block home and was sweet enough to hold my hand during the walk. My inhibitions were dampened and I allowed a first date make-out which was quite nice. In this case, I truly believe that the addition of alcohol to my lightweight self only led to better things. I was more blunt that usual and I stuck out the date even though I was mad about him being late. He took it well. That plus his sports knowledge is a good start.
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