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.
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