Archive

Flirting

Awkward Start

So last night was the event I mentioned in my last post. My fitness group was getting together to have dinner. There had been a class earlier in the afternoon, and I had attended. As I was walking out the door, my instructor (not the one I’m interested in) asked me if I was planning to go to the dinner. And I kind of got this “he might be interested” vibe from him. Turns out he was just being nice.

I was a few minutes late to dinner because I had only 1.5 hrs between class and dinner & I had to catch the bus, shower, get ready, catch the bus back. So when I arrived almost everybody was already there (the only other girl who went to the session that day wasn’t there yet). Only the instructor from the afternoon class came, not the one I was interested in. He’d brought along another guy who he shared a flat with.

And it turned out that we didn’t have a reservation. And we were in the theater district at 7:30 on a Saturday night. With a group of nine. Well done event organizer!

I may have been here before

So we wandered around a bit to try to find somewhere that might take a group of 9. I chatted with a few different people in the group and at one point started talking with another guy I was sort of interested in. He’s one of those guys who is just easy to talk to and super nice. I was kind of wondering if he might be interested in me, but when I tried to talk to him as we walked to another restaurant, he didn’t try to prolong the conversation and walked past me at the first chance. I wasn’t sure what the deal was until we got to dinner.

So finally we ended up on the next street over and happened upon this little restaurant that I happened to have been to before…and hadn’t been impressed. So of course, they had space for nine people. I didn’t want to be picky (especially since I was the only newbie who showed up and hadn’t figured out the group dynamic yet), so I kept my mouth shut, and we went in.

Highlights: who’s married, who’s gay, who thinks I’m into them

So we all sit down at the table and people start talking, and wine gets ordered, and people keep talking. The instructor turned to the event organizer and made a comment about how he’d led us to the gay district (“I don’t mind, obviously,” he said. At which point my brain went ????).

Super Nice Guy starts telling a story and gesticulating with his hands – he’s wearing a wedding ring (another “ah-ha” moment in my brain).

Event Organizer, who’s sitting across from me, is slightly cross-eyed, and I don’t realize he’s talking to me until he finishes his story and expects a response.

The guy next to me looks super young (I estimated 18-21), didn’t order booze, ordered two appetizers and mac and cheese as his main course. Later somebody commented on how he’s the youngest one there, and then The Instructor says, “Well, maybe not, how old is Sadie?” I almost choked. “Excuse me?” I said. I looked at The Kid, “How old are you?” I asked. “19” he said. Without meaning to, my mouth formed an “awe”, and I patted him on the shoulder (though I’d intended it to be a reassuring pat, not a condescending one. Not sure I pulled that off). Just so you guys know, I’m more than halfway through my 20s. So it’s a little annoying when people think I’m younger than a 19 year old.

The Kid mishears a comment The Instructor makes about beating wives (I think he actually said “eating wives”) and says “Does R (the guy T.I. brought with him) need to tell us something?” (my brain went “le sigh”).

Towards the end of dinner, The German shows up with a big beautiful white fluffy dog. He sits down in the only empty chair, which is next to me. Oh, I should mention, besides the two ladies who come to class frequently, The German is the only other one I’ve added on Facebook, and here’s why: he invited me to a party and said he’d inbox me the deets. So I added him and he never sent the info. Also he seemed somewhat flustered and possibly blushed (more probably was just still red from working out) when I asked him about the party after class. He’d invited everyone in class (it wasn’t a me-specific invite), but I’d wanted to branch out and meet some more locals, so I asked him about it. Anyway, I think he thought I was into him (I’ll be honest, he does make me slightly uncomfortable, and the thought had crossed my mind), so pretty much the first thing he says in conversation at dinner is “My girlfriend” yada yada yada. Right-O.

Move to the pub

After dinner we head to the pub. As you do. A couple people peel off, including Super Nice Guy (who, by the way, looks a lot like one of my exes).

Event Organizer and The Kid both try to buy me a drink. I order a whiskey ginger and pay for it myself. The Kid tries to tell me what whiskey is. He’s pointing at my drink thinking it’s his. He’s ordered straight whiskey, and it comes with a little pitcher of water.

We all sit down at our table; I’m next to E.O. His teeth are stained from the red wine earlier. Now he’s drinking strawberry cider. He makes a comment about having a girly drink, but The Instructor says, “No, what makes it girly is the fact that there’s a girl sitting next to you drinking whiskey.” True story.

Somebody starts a conversation about how creepy Mr. Tumnus is in “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe”. We determine that if his name had been “Jeff” he wouldn’t have been so creepy. I feel like I’m sitting in a Monty Python skit and can’t stop laughing. In my head I’m making all the Holy Grail references.

The Instructor and R leave around midnight, claiming “for every year you go past 30, you must leave one minute before midnight” like some reverse Cinderella or something. Then he clarifies, “R is tired.”

I’m getting another drink, do you want another drink?

Event Organizer tells a really awkward story about another guy – who we’ll call Jeff – not taking “the hottest girl at the party” home one night, then he yells somewhat belligerently, “I’m getting another drink!” and makes a motion as if to stand. I say I’m tired and ready to go home, and the one other lady who’s stuck around says she’s peacing as well. Event Organizer suddenly has a change of heart presumably since The Ladies aren’t staying, and starts putting his coat on.

We all head outside and congregate on the sidewalk as if we’re about to have a team huddle and chant before a match. Then we all head our separate ways. Jeff, Event Organizer, and The Lady are heading my way, so we walk off together. Jeff makes a comment about The Instructor “and his boyfriend” (relationship confirmed. Boys with accents confuse my gaydar). Then Jeff (who, besides The Kid and Event Organizer seems to be the only available male in the club) mentions that he was supposed to baby-sit his 8 year old niece but instead popped in a DVD and said “see ya later!” I asked him if he just left her at home by herself!? Then it came out that he lives with his parents. (brain does a sigh). He peaces to go find his car.

I watch my bus pass us on the opposite side of the road. 35-minute walk, yay. E.O. and The Lady go a little out of their way to accompany me to a main road, then I walk back listening to “North American Scum” by LCD Soundsystem.

When I get home, The Kid has added me on Facebook.

Here’s a typical story for ya

After Belgium dumped me, he said he still wanted to be friends. Ok, sure, I’m down…I guess. Besides, he still has one of my favorite books that I lent him.

So a few days after we called it quits, I texted him. It was some innocuous text about this club that was trying to get me to join (and pay their massive membership fee). I’d gone to a party at the club a few months beforehand, and they sent me a pair of *free lunch tickets*. I invited B to lunch (turned out to be a “meet and greet” with the PR person and a tour of the club culminating in signing membership docs. Needless to say, we didn’t go). But when I received yet another email from them, I took the opportunity to extend a hand of friendship/”let’s not be awkward about it” to B.

He responded in record time

When we were “into each other”, it took B hours, sometimes a day, to respond to my text messages (and I’m not the type of girl to incessantly text message someone. I’d message him maybe once or twice a day. This after we’d made a habit of talking and hanging out regularly, and I’d stayed over at his place already).

Suddenly, B is responding within minutes of receiving my texts. We had a short, friendly conversation about the club, and that was it. I recall thinking, “Maybe I can be friends with him.” Or at least friendly.

Can a girl be any more wrong?

Two days later, the day before Valentine’s Day, he texts me. “I really like that engineering book you gave me. Nice work…How was your match date?”

Alright, nice of him to compliment me on my gift-giving abilities, but why does he want to know about my date? Course, I was feeling a little self-indulgent, and thought I’d let him know just how well everything’s going on my side (maybe instill in him a little self-doubt about his decision to call it quits) so I told him I had a good time and we were planning to hang out again soon. Which is true. But it was also true that I found Readsalot to be more of a friend type. I decided not to mention that part.

B went on to inquire what we did on our date. I told him we walked on the boardwalk, then said I had another date lined up for that evening. He wrote, “Hah wow, I wouldn’t expect any different though. That’s awesome.”

Successful. Dating. Pursuits.

Then he said, “Sometimes I feel like I need a stress relief which hasn’t happened, and I’m trying to separate that from my dating pursuits. Which I’ve been successful at.”

Dating pursuits. As in, career pursuits, sporting pursuits, academic pursuits, dating pursuits. As in, “let me check that off my grocery list”.

I told him he needed to stop giving himself such a hard time and take a vacation. He agreed with me. Then he asked me where I was going on my next date. I told him, and he said, “should be fun. I mean it’s no blues club but ya know…” OK. That’s not very fair, comparing my new dating activities to the dates the two of us went on. After all, he broke it off with me. He can’t come trying to sabotage my new dates when he’s already told me he’s not interested.

So I did a photoshoot

One of my good friends is a photographer, and he wanted to mess around with some different lighting techniques, so I agreed to model for him. The modeling sesh was mostly implied nude. I’d told B I was shooting, so he asked “Did you get your pics back from the shoot the other day? You photograph really well. I’m excited to see them.”

The pics were totally classy – not even close to trashy or flashy. Very artistic and interesting to look at. But they also showed a significant amount of skin. Considering how much interest in my dates B had shown, I thought I’d mess with him a little and send him some of those pics. It was probably a poor decision.

He responded with, “Those are beautiful. Thank you for sharing. Any more that are more risque?”

To which I said, “Are you trying to get me to send you nudie photos : P”

“You caught me 🙂 yes I am,” he wrote. I sent him a couple more. “Those are amazing also,” he said, “You’re getting closer :)”

I wrote, “Well tough nuggets, that’s all you get.”

He said, “Well next time I see you, if you’re comfortable with it I’d really like to see those other [more revealing ones] too.”

“Hah, I don’t think so, sorry,” I responded.

“Haha ok. Prude ; )” he wrote.

“I’m not a prude, I’m just not going to share nudes with someone I’m not sleeping with.”

He chose to ignore that comment and we moved on to talk about this book I’ve been reading called The Four Hour Body. There is a component in the book about having better sex. And of course we talked about that for a while. I learned that he is into “anal stimulation” (his words, not mine). Course, I’d kinda picked that up when I’d stayed over that one time…

Eventually, we signed off and went to sleep.

A happy Valentine’s Day indeed

The next day was Valentine’s Day. I intended not to message him since I didn’t think it would be entirely appropriate, considering how we “weren’t interested in each other anymore”. He, however, had other ideas.

Around 10:30 that night he wrote “Hello…Happy valentine’s day to you. How did drinks go last night?”

Completely fed up with his ambiguity and his interest in my match dates, coupled with the fact that he had the audacity to message me on Valentine’s Day, I responded, “Why are you so curious about my dates?”

He took about ten minutes to respond, but eventually wrote, “Won’t make that mistake again.”

I said, “Listen, I want to be friendly with you, but I just don’t want you comparing every date I go on to the ones you and I went on. Capiche?”

And I haven’t heard from him since.

So bizarre. So. Bizarre.

So last week, this guy messaged me on FB

“I’m playing in a soccer tournament in your town this weekend!” he wrote, “let’s hang out!”

It took me a second to remember who he was. I looked back at our FB thread. He’d wished me a happy birthday several months ago and asked if I was still in town so he could buy me a beer. We’d worked on this music video together in his hometown, and he’d subsequently added me as a Facebook friend. By the time I’d gotten his message, I had already headed back home, and told him so. “Well let me know anytime you’re around and we’ll hang out!” he wrote back, “and I’ll let you know next time I’m near your town, too!”

9 months later

We had little to no Facebook interaction since that message he sent me on my birthday, and we hadn’t exactly hung out much on set. It’s not like we had exchanged phone numbers or anything.

So, as you can imagine, his recent message felt a little out of the blue. But he seemed like a nice enough guy, so I thought, “hey, why not? Not like I have anything else planned for this weekend.” Except actually I was pretty booked. Two photoshoots – one Saturday, one Sunday, so I wasn’t able to make any of his games. Instead, we planned to go grab some drinks on Saturday night.

The Frat House

This guy, we’ll call him SG for Soccer Guy, is almost 40. When I asked him about his league, he made it sound like he played in an over-30 men’s league. But when I arrived at the house where they were all staying, I was surprised to see guys – and girls – all around my age.

SG opened the fridge and offered me a Natty Light. I popped the can and tried to take it all in. There were probably 15 people in the (not very large) living room – about 50/50 guys/girls, and as I walked around and introduced myself and my friend, R, who I’d dragged along with me, I was greeted with glazed eyes and drunk smiles.

At one point a ping pong ball appeared from nowhere, and someone aimed it at a red solo cup. Finally, SG called a cab for us all to take to the bar, and everyone piled themselves into the van and headed out.

Walk-in coolers, locals, and one heck of a dive bar

The bar was a pretty neat place, but very divey. There were a handful of locals (mid 40s-50s, several couples), and they rolled their eyes at us as we invaded their bar. We all walked to the back, where there was a huge walk-in beer cooler. We picked our beers then headed to the bar to pay. SG was being very friendly, but not in a creepy way. We found conversation easy even though we’d never really hung out. I don’t remember what exactly we talked about, but it wasn’t awkward.

Popped my Photo-hunt cherry

So apparently there is this bar video-game that everybody loves, but that I’d never heard of. It’s called Photo hunt. The gist is this: two photos pop up on a touch screen, and you have to pick out the differences. Apparently there is a more popular version where all the photos are of naked people. Unfortunately, this wasn’t that version.

The photo hunt game was located in a little nook out of the way, and we somehow crammed about 5 people back there and all played the game at once. We almost beat the high score (we came in 2nd overall!).

Later, I tried to learn the Cubic Shuffle among other dances, and SG cheered me on. At one point, he winked at me, but that was about as flirty as things ever got. But it was a very fun evening.

Back at home

Eventually, we all went home – the team had an 8am soccer game the next morning! Needless to say, they were all very, very hungover.

The next day, after the team hit the road to head back to their respective cities, SG sent me a text to ask how my photoshoot went. I said it went well, and he jokingly asked me to send him some proofs from the shoot. Then he said,

SG: I do think you are absolutely beautiful and sweet though.
Not kidding. Ha
Blushing.

Me: Hey, thanks ^^ now I’m blushing 😛

SG: Ha. Yr welcome. I wish we lived closer bc I’d like to hang out w you more.
It’s rare I find someone your age interesting and intriguing 🙂 no offense intended!

Me: hahaha, no I understand 🙂 people my age are pretty lame.

SG: Haha, no not at all. Most of u are just being/acting yr age. I can’t relate, but that’s fine, I’m not really supposed to…but u have more depth and maturity. It’s refreshing.

And then he fell asleep in the car.

Valentine’s Day

On Vday, I didn’t have much to do, and I just happened to be hanging out on Facebook. SG chatted me. We talked for a good while about random things and my online dating adventures (although not to the extent that I talk about them here! Hah…), then he had to run off to another soccer game. Either way, he seems like an interesting guy. He’s super nice and laid back, and I had fun hanging out with him. It was refreshing. Maybe I just need to start hanging around older people. Maybe that would help solve my dude issues. *sigh* probs not with my luck. Oh well! Onward and upward!

More to come on two new match guys!

So we were snuggling on the couch

The pizza man had arrived in record time, the Ravens were winning, and all was right with the world. And then the power went out in New Orleans. B & and I were already yawning, and B took this opportunity to kiss me.

It got a little intense – clothes coming off and all that, so he grabbed my hand and led me back to his bedroom.

We got down to our underwear in record time

When suddenly he says in an oddly serious voice, “Hey, look at me.” I looked at him. He has big beautiful blue eyes, and at that moment they were very intent on mine. “This is as far as we go tonight, OK?”

“Umm…OK,” I said, a little taken aback. We resumed our activity. At one point he said (in between dry humping) “You know -” pause “I’ve been thinking about you -” pause “a lot today.”

“Oh yeah?” pause “What have you been thinking?”

“Oh, you know -” pause “You challenge me -” pause “mentally, I mean -” pause “and you stimulate me -” pause “intellectually.” Touching, but maybe not the best time to be having a discussion about our compatibility, B. 

Say my name

We moved on from B’s untimely praise, and later he went down on me. In the middle of it, he said to me, “Say my name.” Now, I don’t know if I mentioned this, but this guy is Belgian. I mean, he’s just as American as I am (he moved here at age 3), but he has a Belgian name…ie difficult to pronounce.

So here he is with his mouth at my crotch and telling me to say his name. His name that I don’t know how to pronounce. I thought frantically. Should I ask him how to say it? No, that would ruin the mood. Should I ignore his request? No, then he might just ask again.

So I ended up just saying it how I thought it was pronounced, but kind of mumbled it, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He didn’t say anything, but the rest of the night he did keep referring to himself in third person. Talk about awkward.

Do you want to sleep over?

So it was getting late, and he lives a good ways from my place, so he asked if I wanted to sleep over. “Do you want me to?” I asked. “Yes. Yes, I do,” he said. “Alright,” I said.

After the Ravens had won the ball on a turnover in the last 3 minutes of the Super Bowl and it was clear the game was over, we retired to his room. Conveniently, I still had my soap and toothbrush and stuff from when I stayed at my parents. We washed ourselves up, got in bed, fooled around a bit, then went to sleep.

I’m not gonna be jerked around

There are so many things you learn about someone when you share a bed with them. I learned that B likes being the little spoon, loves physical contact (he’s really into cuddling) and is a very light sleeper.

A few hours after we went to bed, I had finally slipped into a deep sleep. B and I were back to back. All of a sudden, he bumps me hard with his bum, turns over to face me and says, “Oh, c’mon!”

I jerked awake and tried to turn and cuddle him, “What? What did I do?” I asked, very confused.

“Oh please, I’m not gonna be jerked around like that. I asked you a question and I expect you to answer it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I protested, “I was sleeping!” I turned over to look him in the eyes, “What did you ask?” We looked at each other for a second. Then he finally backed down.

“I could have sworn you’d heard me,” he said, looking down.

“What did you ask?” I said again.

He considered me for a second, then said, “Nothing. I think I was half-asleep, too.” Then he turned over and went back to sleep.

As if nothing ever happened

We got up the next morning and it was as if nothing had happened. We got ready to leave (he had work super early, so it was still dark out), and I kissed him goodbye and got in my car.

Later that day, I got a text message from him. “…Just got home, crashing and calling it a night! I vaguely remember sleep talking last night by the way.”

I then explained what had happened, and he claimed not to remember any of it. Except he must have since he brought it up! Now it seems like he is avoiding me. He’s been bad about returning my texts (it always takes him a few hours), and he made an excuse not to hang out on Wednesday. We haven’t talked on the phone either. It’s getting a little weird.

So I might be going out with Readsalot soon after all…

So on my third date with Belgium we watched the Super Bowl

At his place. And he ordered pizza, and we snuggled on the couch and it was adorable. But it didn’t start that way.

It started on a sketchy dirt road in BFE

(Bum F*ck Egypt…aka middle of nowhere). We had planned to go on another dinner date to this cool sports bar and watch the game there, but I was visiting my folks a few hours away and ended up leaving late. His place was on my way into town, so I suggested we just watch it there (he had already suggested going back to his place after dinner, so it seemed to be part of the plan either way).

He gave me his address, and I entered it into my phone’s GPS. Soon, I was crossing some train tracks and driving ever deeper into what appeared to be a trailer park. I took a wrong turn and ended up on a deserted road littered with rusting industrial equipment and buildings falling into disrepair. Keep in mind, it was completely dark out. And there are no street lights in BFE.

Finally, I arrived at what I thought was his street. It was a dirt road with a few mobile homes on it, and on house at the end with a long, winding driveway. Now keep in mind I had recently watched an indy horror flick that involved a man taking people out to a place not too different from this one and murdering them in various disgusting ways.

Needless to say, I was getting pretty freaked out.

I called him, and he didn’t answer. So I decided to head back to civilization and suggest we meet at a restaurant as was planned before. Finally, he calls me back. I had pretty much convinced myself by then that he was an ax-murderer, so I told him I’d call him back. Then I sent him some text messages asking why he lived in BFE, and then he called me again. I let it ring and ring, until I finally decided to answer right before it went to voicemail.

“Umm, do you live on a dirt road?” I asked, trying – and failing – not to sound weird.

“Uh…no,” came the reply. “Where are you?” he asked.

“Oh!” I explained where I was.

“That is nowhere near my house,” he said, “I live in a normal neighborhood close to civilization.”

“Oh…Ok, good…I was kind of beginning to think you were an ax murderer or something.”

He laughed and then gave me directions to his place.

I brought you a present

When I arrived, it was to a nice house in a nice neighborhood on a cul de sac not far from a CVS. *whew* bullet dodged.

He gave me a hug and asked if I really thought he was an ax murderer.

“Well, I don’t actually know you that well…” I started, “Anyway, I brought you this coffee table book on engineering as a gift. But I was thinking it might double as a blunt object if need be.”

Man I am so smooth.

Up Next, Part II: Say my name!

As a side note, I got hit on at the Post Office today.

I was standing in line behind this guy who had a lot of piercings and tattoos and a haircut that was somewhere between a limp mohawk and an ironic mullet when I noticed that he had this tattoo on the back of his neck: cloudFor those of you who are not huge nerds, this cloud character is from a video called “Rejected Cartoons.” This cloud is jumping around gleefully with his little cloud friends when suddenly one of them starts gushing blood and saying “MY ANUS IS BLEEDING” meanwhile the other clouds keep jumping around gleefully. Yeah.

My Crazy Australian Host Brother

I first saw this cartoon when I was in Australia, staying with a host family, and my 17 year-old host brother (I was 14 at the time) decided it would be a good idea to show me this video as a first activity in a new country after spending 14 hours on a plane. And right before taking me out back to show me his home made potato launcher and read me passages from Marx’s Communist Manifesto. I kid you not. BUT that is a story for another day.

Unwarranted (but not unwelcome) Advice

So I was smiling to myself about this little cloud person and my ridiculous related experiences, when the man with the cloud tattoo turned and glanced back at me. Busted. But he turned away again, and I headed over to the next window.

As I was leaving, though, the man called to me, “Hey!” he said, and then seemed to shrink back as if aware he’d been unnecessarily loud, “Umm, you know if you want to get rid of the little bumps on the back of your cartilage piercings, you should just put peroxide on them with a q-tip until they’re gone. I’m a piercer, so that’s how I know.” Awkward pause. “Are you looking to get more piercings? You should come see me at my studio x. It’s just down the street.”

“Oh, hey, thanks,”I said, trying not to be weird (or tell him how awesome his cloud tattoo was), “I was actually thinking of getting a third cartilage piercing, now that you mention it. Maybe I’ll stop by,” I waved awkwardly as I headed to the exit, “See ya later.”

OH YEAH I FORGOT

In the meantime, the postman, who was an older black man with very crooked teeth and a name tag that read “David”, was literally awww-ing us. Way to make an awkward sitch even more awkward, Dave.

Round 2: Sushi and Blues with Belgium

For Round 1

He picked me up from my apartment a few minutes past 6:30. As soon as he knocked on the door, my roommate’s dog started barking its head off. I know he is not fond of dogs, and I didn’t feel like dealing with the dog jumping on him, so I peeked my head out the door and said “Just a sec!” Then closed the door in his face. Whoops.

I grabbed my purse and sweater. I was wearing this clingy sweater-dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a nice scarf and knee-length Anthro knit sweater. I’d debated wearing heels, but decided against it as I didn’t want to look too dressed up for the dive-y blues bar we were going to later.

I opened the door. He was standing there patiently. I was very nervous; tried not to let my hand shake as I locked the door. He looked good. Wearing a black jacket and collared shirt with jeans. Pretty much what I’d imagined he’d wear. Except a dark pair of jeans would have looked nicer, but I’d gathered from the sweatshirt he’d worn to our first date that he wasn’t huge into fashion. But it’s not like I want to date a dandy, so I’m not concerned.

The Drive

He drives some sort of sedan (I’m not huge into cars, so I don’t remember the make, although he did mention something about “buying American” so I assume it was a Dodge or something). Regardless, it was a manual. I find it so attractive when a man drives a stick shift. Just saying.

At one point, we got stuck behind a turning van, and he zipped around it on the right. “Geez, you couldn’t wait?” I said, before I could stop myself. He chuckled, “That’s how we drive up north.”

The rest of the drive passed in relative discomfort until we got to the restaurant.

The Date: Part I

I don’t really remember what all we talked about at the beginning of our meal. But I do recall thinking maybe this guy isn’t as interesting as I first thought… I felt like he was beginning to feel the same thing about me. Then he asked me about my faith.

I put this bit in my Match profile about not needing to be “saved”. Mostly because I’m tired of people infringing on my beliefs by trying to convince me that I should believe whatever it is that they believe. So he asked me about that, and that got me started.

Turns out we have similar backgrounds. We’re both the “black sheep” of our conservative, relatively religious families, we both had bad experiences at youth group, and we’re both doing our best to avoid church altogether.

Maybe it was the sake, but after that we seemed to get along a lot better than before. As we left the restaurant, he asked if I wanted to take a walk. “Sure,” I said. Obviously guy code for “let’s go find a quiet spot to make out.”

We headed down to the waterfront, holding hands, but halfway there, he seemed to have a sudden change of mind and took us back to the car to head over to the blues bar. Probably because there was a show being filmed down there, and I kind of wanted to check out the costume truck. Also, he’d told me on our first date that he’d kind of been talking to this other girl a while ago who was also a costumer. Perhaps he was afraid he’d run into her. Either way, we headed back to the car sans a make-out sesh.

The Date: Part II

We got to the blues place and headed over to the bar to grab a drink. He got Gin & Water (“a weird drink, I know,” he said), and I got a G&T. Even though I hadn’t worn heels, I still felt a little overdressed. No matter, though, I’d already accepted that we’d be the attractive young couple at the place filled with middle aged and older casually dressed patrons. There was a lot of jean going on. And not just pants, either.

We sat down at a table and sipped our gin, trying to hear each other talk. We were facing each other, and I had my legs crossed, so he’d occasionally rest a hand on my calf. At one point he leaned in closely and said, “Your legs are so soft.” If I hadn’t been into him, it would have been creepy. But I was totally into him. So yeah.

I also found out that he’d put a lot of thought into his outfit for that evening. He said that since he knew I work in costuming and have a pretty good sense of style, he was nervous about picking out something to wear. “So I settled on my tried-and-true blue collared shirt. I figured, old blue can’t fail me.” It was genuinely adorable. You know, that he’d really thought about what to wear.

As we left, I thought that maybe he’d kiss me in the parking lot before we got back into the car, but there was a group of people milling around out there, so he just opened my door and then headed over to his side.

So then we went back to my apartment…

“Do you want to come in?” I asked him. “Yes, absolutely,” he responded. As soon as we had the door shut behind us, I was kissing him, and not soon after, he slammed me up against said door. I think he said something about kissing his neck not being a good idea, but that was also right before he asked if he could “de-scarf me” (I was still wearing a scarf at this point).

As he tossed the scarf onto a chair in the living room, my OCD kicked in, and I grabbed it to take back to my room, dragging him along behind me, not really considering the implications of taking him to my bedroom.

But I’d hardly laid my scarf down before we were on the bed, and he was pulling my dress over my head. Course, I’d worn these tummy-tucking pantyhose that went to just above my knees, so that was a little embarrassing to have him see. “This is the secret to being a woman,” I said, gesturing to the pantyhose. He just chuckled and asked if he could take them off since he “wanted to see my panties”.

In any case, I just so happened to be on my period, which I made perfectly clear to him from the moment we landed on my bed…ie, you’re not gettin any tonight, buddy. I didn’t really want to get naked, and I told him to leave his pants on, but he was being very sweet and gentle, asking me where I liked to be touched, etc. Somehow we ended up in our underwear, him spooning me. “Where did you come from?” I asked him, incredulously. “Belgium,” he said.

Next up: Date 3 with Belgium

…this is happening tomorrow.

A Better Life

Moving forward, looking back, and allowing emotions to flow.

My Top Fives...

Some Top Fives...and some other stuff too

Perpetual Prude

Dating Diatribes of a 30 Year Old Virgin

The 29 year old virgin

Chronicling a desperate attempt to get legitimately laid

The Unfortunate Virgin Male

A 30 year old virgin unlucky in love..,

Ellie More Or Less

Just another blog about weight loss

musings of a quarter life crisis

Mid-twenties lady trying to navigate her way through dating & moving to a new city...

onlinedatingjournal

My Fucked up Life in the Dating Scene

guiltyconscience2013

A raw and honest account of infidelity.

twentysexncounting

These are some of my adventures in dating and musings on the state of dating in the big apple (and beyond!)...

Empowered Grace

Learning to Swim in The Alphabet Soup of the DSM

New Single Guy

A blog about navigating dating and relationships, post-divorce...

howtodateboys

30. female. sane. my take on dating in the 21st century

Hi, My Name is Dax... and I'm a Dateoholic

Confessions & Reflections of a Regular Guy trying to Break the Cycle

sexandtheshameless

Just another WordPress.com site

Dirty Thirty

Dating After 29...

Without wax /

Andy Ritchie blog

%d bloggers like this: