A Date

I went on a date.  Ok sure, it wasn’t necessarily the person I wanted to go out with, but hey I figured what the hell.  That guy isn’t free, I had some free time, and should the other date actually happen, maybe I won’t act like a new born fawn in some perverse Benny Hill sketch. Maybe, if it happened, I could pass as cool?  Ok fine, this from the girl who once kept dropping cow bells repeatedly every time she walked past a work crush when I was in my early 20’s. (No seriously, I dropped them at least three times – COW BELLS – it’s not like that goes unnoticed. He’d smile, my eyes would get big, and those ridiculous things would fall out of my hands – MULTIPLE TIMES. No amount of, “play it cool, Beth” could make up for the loud clanging on the concrete floor as I blushed profusely, trying to grab them up, then I’d go back for more and repeat that whole scene, because apparently I don’t learn. I may have mentioned I live in a long running I Love Lucy episode. It’s horrifying.) Maybe I should just go ahead give up on this idea that I could ever come off as cool.

We met for coffee, and let me just say here: Starbucks’ Gingerbread Latte is an appalling abomination. No amount of toothpaste or breath mints can rid you of the taste or aftertaste or after-after taste.  This is a public service announcement. You’re welcome. Me being me – I went to the wrong place, because whoopsy, who pays attention? Especially, when given landmarks like “near Walgreens and Wal-Mart”. That’s all my town is. I think I can find three nearby Starbucks that meet that criteria. It took me about 10 minutes to get to the right spot, and my goof was greeted by chastising and a whole lot of words that really amounted to 1) huge control freak, and 2) EJECT!  If he had been the least bit empathetic, we would have seen this goof from my side, which was that while he was momentarily inconvenienced by having to loiter a bit, I had to actually double-back AND update several people who would reign hell fire on him in the event I texted them with “911”. They too had to mentally re-map their routes, dude – not like it was just you who were inconvenienced; it created a small logistical issue. So, self-centered.

We drank coffee, and chatted, which was fine. My only real observations here were: 1) How can so many words fall out of one face? SO MANY MANY WORDS. For the love of all things Holy, please stop making them. No seriously, I need your face to stop moving. 2) Why are you so concerned about where I live? (I made a mental note to ask the security guys how to install cameras) If I changed the subject away from my neighborhood, he’d get back to “no, where do you live. You haven’t answered me. I’ve asked you now a few times.” Will Robinson didn’t even need a robot to be warned – anyone with half a brain cell would have been concerned, and 3) Personal space, observe it.

There’s a running joke about me and hugs, and the fact is that a lot of people can actually hug me. A lot of people can’t. I just keep everyone on their toes by never updating the people who formerly couldn’t that their hug status has been upgraded. And there’s some people I’ve met for the first time that they better hug me, which also surprises older friends who still are in the “no hug” zone. I’m complicated. 🙂 So, back to the date: This guy tried to kiss me, and I presented him with my forehead, because NOPE. Do not get your face near my face, thank you. He made a joke that he kissed my forehead for good luck while I was internally blaspheming up such a storm that I was in danger of multiple lightning strikes. Simultaneously, I tried to work out how to get a whole ton of lye, and pondered whether it might be caustic enough to clean my forehead properly. In hindsight, I’m actually surprised he stopped speaking long enough to attempt such an action, but there you go.

He then invited me to get gas with him at Costco. I have no words. Not that the gas isn’t fine there; it’s just approximately 12-15 miles from where we were. No, I’m not getting in your car. No, I don’t think gas is so amazeballs at Costco that I’d ever be willing to pass 15 other gas stations along the way for your special gas run. And with that I waved good bye, and actually closely watched the cars behind me as I headed home. One followed me into the neighborhood, so I drove a more circuitous route until they were no longer in my site. He’s THAT guy – the kind that gives you that vibe.

We broke up the next day. Well… at least that’s what the texts tell me. I was busy at work, then later ran out with friends to dinner only to find this really long one-sided text conversation which amounted to “Do you like me? Yes? or No? Well, clearly you don’t. You realize I’m quite a great catch. Why don’t you like me? Could you send me a note so I can improve? You’re missing out.” This conversation apparently went on over some period of time. (I should mention, I’m bad with phones and really bad about answering or responding.) So, by the time I got home our relationship had run some course and it was over. YAY!!!!! When I read the entire thing late last night, I nearly burst out laughing. So much drama. You know, someone needs to create a “Do you like me?” app. There could be a push notification, you could decide then and there, and if it’s “no” then the app should go in and delete/block that person. Maybe an obnoxious slamming sound with the word “NO!” could appear on their screen in return.  Whereas, a “yes” could generate date options or some such. This is a work in progress.

All of this to say that I did go on a date. It was meh and drama filled (granted, one-sided drama – which, by the way ladies, he’s free AND he claims to be quite the catch should you all want to have your shot.)

And while this wasn’t particularly great, it added a few new stories to my repertoire. And let’s face it, I’m not dating anyone I don’t think Jay would approve of (and he would definitely not have approved), nor will I date anyone that I feel needs the protective pack of men in my life to explain to him why it would be in his interest to never think of me again. (Thanks guys!)

But hey, date. There will be another this Sunday with a runner who seems much more my speed (well, not running speed – a ton faster there, I strongly suspect).

The things I do for you guys. You’re welcome.