Monday, February 28, 2011

match.com date

I am surprisingly not nervous for this date. I think I got more worked up going out with my girlfriends Friday night than I am prepping and primping to go out with a boy I’ve NEVER met.
Why?
Here’s what I know pre-date:
1.       He looks VERY cute in his pics.
2.       He’s a Yankees fan.
3.       He likes bud light.
4.       He has a hat on in every picture.
5.       He went to NYC for the day on business.
6.       He’s 29
Things that are going through my head as I shower:
1.       I know I’m not the most photogenic person…does he actually look like this person in real life? I know that pics aren’t always a good representation of what a person looks like. I’m intrigued.
2.       He’s a Yankees fan…this could be fun. I am an O's fan. I like to tease and be teased. We could have a cute little competitive thing going on during baseball season.
3.       He likes bud light? Eww. I’m def a miller lite girl and what if this goes somewhere? Am I always going to be a pain in his ass saying “wahhhh I need miller lite.”? Hmm. I’ll just stick to my vodka soda with lemon. Case. Closed.
4.       He has a hat on in every picture? Why? What’s he hiding? Hmm.
5.       I wonder if he travels for work often…what does this mean for me? Why does he travel so much? Does he have a diff girl in each city? Does he go on overnight trips? Would he take me?
6.       Age is just a number, but as a 29 year old male, I wonder if his internal clock is ticking and he is antsy to start a family.
By this time I’ve also decided why I don’t care about this date. Simple answer really. I’ve been let down so many times by now that I just don’t care. My expectations are low and I expect him to be just another shithead just like the rest of them. I’m also not invested in this--for all intents and purposes I have put no time or energy into getting to know him.
I get out of this shower and I panic. Did we decide on 7 or 7:30? Shit. I don’t remember.  After I panic for about 30 seconds I decided that meh whatevs… If I’m late, I’m late. I don’t care.
As I’m getting dressed my phone rings. It’s him.
I’m expecting him to say: “Hey, I’m really sorry but something has come up, and I’m going to have to take a rain check”
“Hey, Doris. What’s up?”
My eyes squint. I’m annoyed. Is he going to cancel? Why does he sound so chipper? “Hey!...oh nothing…what are you up to?” and I say it with a smile.
In reality im standing in my bedroom with just my jeans and a bra on and my hair is soaking wet and I just had a minor panic attack because I didn’t remember what time were meeting up.
“Just got home from NYC, we decided on 7:30 right?”
My eyes squint and narrow again. I’m still not sold that he’s not cancelling. “I hope so, haha. I was actually wondering the same thing.”
“Ok good. I have something I have to take care of. If I’m going to be a little late, I’ll text you”
Riiiight ok buddy if I fucking get down there and you cancel on me after I drive downtown you are fucking dead to me. Dead. To. Meeeee!  “oh alright. Sounds good. I’ll see you later” again, said with a smile.
Ok he’s going to be fucking late? Fine. I’LL be late. Fuck him.
This is a very hard thing for me to even consider as an option. I hate being late. This is not ok. I decide that I’ll leave my house to drive downtown at 7:10. There will inevitably be traffic or an accident and that will hopefully put me there around 7:40ish. Perfect.
I’m also thinking: ok what does “I have something to take care of” mean?
Instantly, in my mind, I have made him into a drug dealer and he’s waiting on someone to pick up drugs from his house so he can have money to spend on our date.
At 7:04, I’m in the kitchen making myself a sandwich and, I start to get panicky because my mom is on the phone with her best friend and now her bestie wants to talk to me. Ughhhhhhhhh.
MOMMM I have shit to do. I’ve also decided that I’m never telling my mom about another one of my dates again. Every time I do, it ends. In my mind this is reason why there aren’t any second dates.
Calm down Doris. YOU WANT TO BE LATE.
I talk on the phone for about 3 minutes as I scarf down my sandwich (roasted chicken breast that I just hacked off the bird on whole wheat, s&p) while thinking to myself c’mon Monica I have to get going…
7:07 I get panicky. I’m going to be late for my date. Fuck! No Laura! You WANT to be late!!!
Monica tells me good to hear your voice–blah blah blah I’m not paying attention. Bye Mon-Mon love you too!
I run upstairs to check my face one last time to make sure I look presentable and “bye mommy and daddy”—I walk out the door.
I’m in my car at 7:10 and I’m like god damnit Dois can you do anything not on time? Sigh. I’m still not nervous. I’m more upset about actually sticking to my own schedule. Oh well. Whatever.  Just be me.
I take city roads and avoid the highway. I figure there’s more of a chance that will hold me up. I make every green light. Every single one. Haha of course. Why am I surprised? I’m not. I laugh to myself as I jam along to the music on the radio. Enrique-Tonight.
What time do I arrive at the bar? 7:33. I give myself minor props for not being EXACTLY on time. I check my cell.
No message.
Does that mean he’s going to be on time? No drug deals?
As I open my door…my cell beeps. Of course.
“Hey! sorry I’m running late. I’ll be there in 10.”
Typical. Not surprised.
Thank god I have little to no expectations.
I think to myself. Ugh I don’t want to go in there and sit by myself for 10 minutes. Sigh. I decide it’s a good idea to clean up the mail that is covering my back seat. After all, what if he sees my car and is like omg that girl is a mess. HA. Little does he actually know.
I give myself a stern talking to. Doris you are an independent woman. If you show up to your date first then go you. You are punctual and there is nothing wrong with punctuality. You go to bars all the time by yourself. AND if you get their first then you get to pick the real estate at the bar which you want to take up, you get to scope out the bar to see if you know anyone so you can get any awkward “Hi’s” out of the way before he gets there AND you get to give him shit for being late. You now have the upper hand. Get in the fucking bar Doris. It’s FREEZING outside.
It's 7:37.  Now, I also don’t want him to think I’ve been sitting in my car waiting for him.
Quick! DORIS! Get in the bar! He might see you!
What am I doing? Why am I being so neurotic? I swear I’m not nervous.
I walk in. To my pleasant surprise, it’s dead but of course it’s the classic scene where the music stops and everyone looks at me like who the fuck is this girl?
Sweet! I feel extra cool now.
Stop it Doris. You’re an independent cute girl that can do things on her own. Who says I even have to be meeting someone. I could be on a date with myself. Fuck everyone else. You don’t know me. 
The side of the bar that’s farthest from me has the most people. I hate people. So I decide to sit on the less occupied side. Which is perfect because then he can walk in and see me easily.
BUT I don’t want to sit too close to the door because every time it opens there will be a draft and then I’ll be cold and miserable. Sigh. I think to myself…am I high maintenance?
I walk a little farther down the bar. There are two older men that are chatting and looking at me that I’m walking towards. No fuckers, I’m not coming to talk to you, so stop staring at me.
I take a seat at the bar. I hang up my purse on the hook under the bar in front of my seat and wait for the bartender to ask me what I want.
“What can I getcha hunny?”
“I’ll have a mojito, please.” Not my typical drink but i like the way they make them at this particular bar. 
I get my drink and its now 7:40. She asks if I would like a menu. No. Then she asks if I would like to start a tab. Yes. Please for the love of god YES. I stir up the mint in my drink. Annoyed. I think to myself, wow is this his way of getting me to pay for the drinks? I did just start a tab…hmm.
7:43 text message: hey! I have a black over coat on. I’ll be there in a minute.
I text back: I’m sitting at the bar alone. Just walk straight you can’t miss me.
Wait…Overcoat? What?!
He walks in at 7:46. That was 3 minutes asshole.
In my head, I bursted into laughter when I saw him.
HE’S BALD. Hahahhaha no wonder you have a hat on in all your pics! I KNEW IT.
Doris! Stop it! Don’t be mean. Just bc he is lacking in the hair follicle dept DOES NOT mean he does not deserve a chance at love. Everyone deserves love.
He sees me. I smile warmly and wave and he walks towards me. I like his pictures better. Sighhhh.
Overcoat = overcoat—as in men’s formal coat. As in what I wasn’t hoping for. Why is he wearing an overcoat?
Then I notice he also has a suit on. WHAT THE FUCK whyyy is this kid wearing a suit? What?
He comes over and I stand up. I get a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Points? I can’t decide. Is a kiss on the cheek acceptable? I can’t decide.
“Sorry I’m late. I got home from NYC and I had to finalize the contracts and it took a little longer than I expected”
Excuses are like assholes buddy; everybody has one.
“oh its ok I didn’t get here on time either.”
I didn’t lie. I got there at 7:33. I WAS LATE!
He orders a Tanguray and tonic. It comes in a pint glass. Which strikes me as odd. Why so big? Does the bartender know to give him the big glass? Or is that just how this place rolls? I don’t come here enough to know the answers. But gin and tonic is noted AND that he has a gin preference. I like gin too. I smile at his beverage choice. He also squeezed the lime slice into his drink. Noted.
As he gets his drink he slides the bartender his credit card. I smile secretly to myself and think hehe I win
We go through the whole how was your day? get to know you nonsense. He’s actually very pleasant to talk to.
He explains that he has the suit on becasue he didn’t get a chance to change when he got home from the train station. Which is understandable. I guess. He jokes that he did it on purpose. He’s a jokester. I like it. 
He kind of dominates the conversation. He keeps interrupting me which is hard to do because I’m the queen of interrupting people. But he keeps catching himself that he is talking too much and then turns the tables on me.
I wish he wouldn’t do that. Just ask me questions damnit! I’m so much better at just answering questions than just talking about myself.
He orders another drink. Yuengling. I order another mojito.
Hes starting to get flirty and is def moving closer. He makes some joke about how one of his friends moms used to tell him that he has bedroom eyes.
I made some bitchy comment and he came back with a haha just kidding and a hand on the back.
He just touched me.
In my head I think haha. Bedroom eyes my ass. But go ahead thinking that you are the one with the bedroom eyes. I think I could win this game. MY bedroom eyes are way better than his.
But I’ll let him think that he offended me for now.
For the next 40 minutes we continued to be flirty and talk about work. The majority of our convo tonight has been about work. But we did also talk about travel, restaurants, hobbies, etc. generic get to know you light conversation—the way it should be. He seems like a nice guy. I wonder why he’s on Match? Is it because he’s bald and is having a hard time meeting a nice cute girl?
As he finishes his beer he says “well, I just had my 2 beer maximum for a first date.” haha what? ok? you don't HAVE to keep drinking “do you have any plans for the weekend? We should try to hang out again…maybe Friday? what are you doing Friday?”
The bartender asks if we would like another round. He says “we ‘re good. Can I have the check? you can just put it all on my card”
Smiles.
We walk slowly to my car and again he mentions something about hanging out again on ---I can’t pay attention its fucking cold outside---ugh Doris pay attention!---Friday. He wants to hang out on Friday! FRIDAY is a party night. NOT a second date kind of night. But I agree anyways because I’m fucking cold and I want to go home.  
I get my keys out of my pocket and he goes in for a hug AND to my surprise a kiss on the lips.
THE.
LIPS.
It all happened so quickly it took a while to register what had just happened. He said it was very nice to meet me and that he will and I quote “communicate with me somehow via technology”…what?
never heard from him again. sweet. 

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