Things that make you go hmmm…
I went on my first date last night, with the gentleman from POF that I had originally been scheduled to meet with on Sunday night. Yes, everyone is allowed a second chance. Throughout the day I alternated between anxiety and excitement, and forgetting that I had a date (it seemed to have to do with my coffee consumption). I grabbed a quick shower once home and tried to make myself presentable. Wardrobe was a snap: hello fabulous ass jeans. Walking back and forth in front of the mirror a few times I was amazed that that was actually my booty. Rrrrrr… come here often? And then it was time to go to the West End and jockey for parking. I hate parking in the West End and, if anything, the parking situation was more vile than I had previously remembered, but after 10 minutes I was able to find something a couple of blocks away. As usual I was early, and not just five or ten minutes, but rather a full 20. Yay. I called B and let him know that I was early and, since he lived a few blocks away (he had told me this) would he be interested in meeting up a little earlier than anticipated. Okay, unfortunately I didn’t phrase it like that, it was more like “Hey B, it’s me. Um, I’m like a block away so can you come now?”. I’m sure he was most impressed.
There was a lineup at Lolita’s when I arrived so I grabbed a seat at the bar which I really dislike. It was pretty cramped, the waitresses kept bumping my seat and I hadn’t brought anything to read so I took to studying the myriad of booze bottles splendidly displayed before me while I sipped my Muscat Ottonel (yes – cool wine!). And made inadvertent eye contact with a guy with many face piercings. Eeeeeee. B soon arrived and we recognized each other right off the bat which was good. I would’ve been cheesed if he had used some glory pic from 10 years ago to which he bore no passing resemblance. Unfortunately B seemed a little distracted and hesitated before grabbing a seat next to me. Part of the hesitation was due to the fact that it was actually a physical impossibility for him to sit down because there was no room to squeeze into the chair, short of pulling it entirely out and having someone “seat” him. He kind of moved me over and I tried what could only be some torturous yoga pose known as Upward Bending Bar Grabbing Heaving Leaning Lifting Tilting Dog, and I’m sure I pulled it off with my usual flourish and finesse. Then B told me he was horrified because went to the ATM but could not withdraw any funds, so he didn’t have any money. He seemed ready to cut and run. I was pretty taken aback: first Oscar night, now this? And he made me come to the West End? What the frick? He was very distracted and seemed quite unhappy and was also very apologetic. Given that I had taken some modicum of time with my appearance and to finagle a decent parking spot I decided to be generous. I said I would buy him a drink. He would not have it. He was mortified and embarrassed and at that point our waitress came and told us we had a table ready. He was drinking water as I drank my wine and his level of agitation was bordering on palpable. I offered to spot him again, and again he declined. After a while he seemed to become a little more comfortable and we discovered we had quite a bit in common, most notably our mutual love of the Big Lebowski. He said “the Dude abides”. I said “a lot of strands in old Duder’s head”. We both like music, though his taste is more eclectic. We both read a lot. We are both working on a novel. We both believe in marriage and are content not to have children. He likes scotch and I know what scotch is. We have similar spiritual values. He lived in San Francisco for 15 years. I like San Francisco. He works for a startup up tech company that is located on the same street as our old offices. All in all very interesting. After an hour I was done my wine so the choices remaining were: to offer to buy him a drink a final time, or to head our separate ways. I said, “So, would you like a drink?” and he said “I would love a drink”. We had a bit of a hard time flagging down a waitress, and when she came over she was so apologetic she bought us a round of drinks and brought chips and salsa. Seriously. The bill came to $9. We talked for another hour and, in my mind, we connected. It was still a little awkward and we both laughed a couple of times when the silence started to stretch on. I said, “On a scale of one to ten, how horrible are you feeling right now?” to which he responded “Nine point five”. It was kind of funny. The evening came to a close, I paid our $9 tab with B apologizing some more and promising to make it up to me. In retrospect I wonder if the “I don’t have any money ploy” is a way to rope someone into a second date. My mom said maybe it was a way to scare off women that are looking for a sugar daddy. Maybe. Maybe he’s broke. I guess I’ll find out when he takes me to McDonald’s for dinner on our second date.
Then some more good things happened: we were walking down Jervis and a couple of homeless people asked us what time it was. B stopped and politely said it was 9:50. We saw a skunk (that wasn’t one of the good things, but it was interesting). He walked me to my car like a gentleman should. He shook my hand and said he would like to see me again. I said that would be fine. He said he would call me on Friday to see how my Saturday was shaping up. I said alright.
This morning he sent a nice email saying he had a lovely time last night, confirming that he would call tomorrow to arrange something for Saturday. I replied that I was looking forward to his call.
So that is where it stands. The money thing was a little odd, but it’s been known to happen. I have friends, friends who are professional engineers, that forget their wallets with amazing frequency. It’s all good because I know I will see them again and make them pay dearly. It’s just a little odd when it’s your first date. Hopefully this was a weird one-off, or perhaps some kind of gold-digger test that I passed because secretly he’s a millionaire and he wants to make sure I’m not after his money. Time will tell. I hope he doesn’t find out that I’m a groupie.
There was a lineup at Lolita’s when I arrived so I grabbed a seat at the bar which I really dislike. It was pretty cramped, the waitresses kept bumping my seat and I hadn’t brought anything to read so I took to studying the myriad of booze bottles splendidly displayed before me while I sipped my Muscat Ottonel (yes – cool wine!). And made inadvertent eye contact with a guy with many face piercings. Eeeeeee. B soon arrived and we recognized each other right off the bat which was good. I would’ve been cheesed if he had used some glory pic from 10 years ago to which he bore no passing resemblance. Unfortunately B seemed a little distracted and hesitated before grabbing a seat next to me. Part of the hesitation was due to the fact that it was actually a physical impossibility for him to sit down because there was no room to squeeze into the chair, short of pulling it entirely out and having someone “seat” him. He kind of moved me over and I tried what could only be some torturous yoga pose known as Upward Bending Bar Grabbing Heaving Leaning Lifting Tilting Dog, and I’m sure I pulled it off with my usual flourish and finesse. Then B told me he was horrified because went to the ATM but could not withdraw any funds, so he didn’t have any money. He seemed ready to cut and run. I was pretty taken aback: first Oscar night, now this? And he made me come to the West End? What the frick? He was very distracted and seemed quite unhappy and was also very apologetic. Given that I had taken some modicum of time with my appearance and to finagle a decent parking spot I decided to be generous. I said I would buy him a drink. He would not have it. He was mortified and embarrassed and at that point our waitress came and told us we had a table ready. He was drinking water as I drank my wine and his level of agitation was bordering on palpable. I offered to spot him again, and again he declined. After a while he seemed to become a little more comfortable and we discovered we had quite a bit in common, most notably our mutual love of the Big Lebowski. He said “the Dude abides”. I said “a lot of strands in old Duder’s head”. We both like music, though his taste is more eclectic. We both read a lot. We are both working on a novel. We both believe in marriage and are content not to have children. He likes scotch and I know what scotch is. We have similar spiritual values. He lived in San Francisco for 15 years. I like San Francisco. He works for a startup up tech company that is located on the same street as our old offices. All in all very interesting. After an hour I was done my wine so the choices remaining were: to offer to buy him a drink a final time, or to head our separate ways. I said, “So, would you like a drink?” and he said “I would love a drink”. We had a bit of a hard time flagging down a waitress, and when she came over she was so apologetic she bought us a round of drinks and brought chips and salsa. Seriously. The bill came to $9. We talked for another hour and, in my mind, we connected. It was still a little awkward and we both laughed a couple of times when the silence started to stretch on. I said, “On a scale of one to ten, how horrible are you feeling right now?” to which he responded “Nine point five”. It was kind of funny. The evening came to a close, I paid our $9 tab with B apologizing some more and promising to make it up to me. In retrospect I wonder if the “I don’t have any money ploy” is a way to rope someone into a second date. My mom said maybe it was a way to scare off women that are looking for a sugar daddy. Maybe. Maybe he’s broke. I guess I’ll find out when he takes me to McDonald’s for dinner on our second date.
Then some more good things happened: we were walking down Jervis and a couple of homeless people asked us what time it was. B stopped and politely said it was 9:50. We saw a skunk (that wasn’t one of the good things, but it was interesting). He walked me to my car like a gentleman should. He shook my hand and said he would like to see me again. I said that would be fine. He said he would call me on Friday to see how my Saturday was shaping up. I said alright.
This morning he sent a nice email saying he had a lovely time last night, confirming that he would call tomorrow to arrange something for Saturday. I replied that I was looking forward to his call.
So that is where it stands. The money thing was a little odd, but it’s been known to happen. I have friends, friends who are professional engineers, that forget their wallets with amazing frequency. It’s all good because I know I will see them again and make them pay dearly. It’s just a little odd when it’s your first date. Hopefully this was a weird one-off, or perhaps some kind of gold-digger test that I passed because secretly he’s a millionaire and he wants to make sure I’m not after his money. Time will tell. I hope he doesn’t find out that I’m a groupie.
posted by Duder at 1:49 PM
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