Usually my dating “strategy” consist of one first date, where I can deduce if the chemistry is there or not. If not, no second, pity date for me or a second chance. This is such a case where my dating prospect immediately becomes part of the Ex Files. It’s not as if this guy was a necessarily “bad date,” rather an instance where the guy was having way more fun than I was. I guess someone could accuse me of leading him on, but my motivations weren’t that insidious. I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
We meet at a Mediterranean cafe (which as you know, is my fav first date location). He was a gentleman and reserved a table ahead of time. Upon arrival, he was short. Very short. I felt like an ogre. Leading up to the date, he texted every day and several times a day; fearful I’d be a no-show.
Between hummus and chicken/cheese appetizers we exchange funny icebreakers about dating online. I was his first date after many years in a serious relationship- so sort of a first date rebound. Uh oh.
I wasn’t immediately attracted to him, but I was hoping his shining personality would win me over. Instead I received a run down of his crazy ex girlfriend, an indifferent ex wife, an equally crazy, inept mother and eccentric, hoarding father.
By 11:15pm I was looking for the check. I knew entirely too much about this man and what I found out made me want to bolt. There comes a point in time where Mumz The Word on information overload…
Notwithstanding, he was a gentleman and walked me to my car, albeit with some ulterior motives- namely to kiss me. We did this awkward two-step shuffle. He step forward, I stepped back and sideways. We did this little dance until I gave him the second hug of the night and a quick goodbye.
I awoke the next morning to a flurry of texts recounting our little “inside jokes” of last night. My responses couldn’t be shorter or more distant.
I guess I’m going to have to stop shuffling on text and actually be honest… …eek…cringe…cry…