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.
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