Round 2: Sushi and Blues with Belgium
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.
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.