I did something out of the ordinary this weekend; I went on a date.
This is a rare occurrence for me. The last time I went out in public with a consenting male, just the two of us, was... well... too long ago for me to say because I would like to maintain some shred of dignity, thank you very much. (I was going to make a joke here about the last time I was out with a man was at the driving range with my Dad last weekend but I drove us there so that was hardly a date. And ew, that's fricking gross) However, sometimes the heavens smile upon me and they put me in the right place at the right time and I end up striking up a conversation with a bona fide man (or very masculine looking woman) and I somehow manage to turn on the charm and all of the sudden we're exchanging numbers and making weekend plans. Then in a matter of a few dates I do something that ultimately repulses him and we never speak again. This exact sequence of events (save for the repulsing, that hasn't happened yet, keep your fingers crossed!) occurred last week and before I knew it I was going on a date on Saturday night.
Now some might argue that you should never agree to a weekend date right out of the gate. You should do something casual on a weeknight before giving up an entire Saturday night for someone you just met.
What if you don't hit it off as well as you did after you had thrown back 5 beers on that first, fateful night and you're stuck together through a whole meal?
Not a problem; have you seen how fast I eat? I can eat an entire Chipotle burrito in just under 34 seconds. I'm fairly confident that if this date went south I could have both our meals finished in under 5 minutes. Christ, that's less time than it takes my friend Christine to drink one 12 oz. beer. Of course she's drunk when she's finished but that's a whole other discussion right there.
What if something better comes along for Saturday night and you've already agreed to this date?
Hahahahahahahahahaha. It feels good to laugh again!
What if he thinks you're a loser because it's Thursday when he asks you out and you tell him your weekend is wide open and he can pick the day?
This is a good point. However, I'm in sales and sometimes no matter how hard you try to hide a product flaw, if it's important enough to the buyer they will find out eventually and it will come back to bite you in the ass. So, since he will inevitably find out that I am a loser it's only worth my time and effort with this guy if he knows up front what he's getting into. To that end, I have already told him I have no plans on the weekend and I'll also probably leave that Justin Timberlake poster hanging above my bed rather than hiding it in the closet like I normally do.
So, judge me if you will, but I went ahead and stepped out on Saturday night with a real live man for dinner and drinks in DT Cleveland. (DT is an abbreviation for downtown and it's a cool thing to say so if you want to be cool you should probably start saying it. Or stop reading this blog, that will also make you instantly cooler.)
Naturally I assumed everyone would get behind me on this venture with their unwavering support. And I'm happy to say for the most part everyone did. Truthfully I only told a handful of people that I was going in the first place. It was easier for some to stomach the news, they got to hear about it over the phone so all they had to do was wish me luck and hang up and I couldn't see their doubtful expressions on the other end of the line. Poor Michelle though, she really bore the brunt of it, she had to help me pick out an outfit, think of conversational topics (tell him about the time you met Ben Roethlisberger is getting a little stale Michelle, sorry), she even had to witness an awkward phone call when my date and I finalized our plans and I tried to give him directions to our apartment. To her credit, she hid her laughter really well.
Unfortunately there was one bitch who just couldn't make this easy for me. Fucking Mother Nature. That whore always comes poking around at the most inopportune times. She's always had it out for me. Ever since she arranged that thunderstorm on the day of my high school graduation party, making my hair frizzy and unmanageable and making the backyard of my parent's house a soggy mess. God knows what she has in store for my wedding day. I'm fairly certain that before she and I had our falling out in the mid 80's, Cleveland had 361 sunny days a year. Now it's closer to 52.
Anyways, Saturday rolled around and she saw it fit to drop a foot of snow in lovely Lakewood, OH. I think it was her last ditch attempt at getting my date cancelled. Well too bad for her the guy I went out with isn't a pussy and he sucked it up and drove out here. Sure, I had to carry an umbrella so that the snow pouring down wouldn't mess up my coiffeur and I think I have frost bite on the side of my feet because I wore heels instead of snow boots but we did the damn thing.
The good news is, since it was a veritable blizzard out, we were pretty much the only ones on the road. It was like that episode of Seinfeld when Kramer buys the mile of highway and widens the lanes and then Elaine is driving down that stretch, swerving all over the place and she's like, "oooh, wide lanes, how luxurious". Our swerving was really more on account of the slippery roads but luckily there were no other cars so it was pretty luxurious. (I actually retold that episode of Seinfeld and likened it to our situation and not only did he laugh, he knew the episode I was talking about. That increased his likelihood of touching a boobie at least ten fold.)
The restaurant and bar were also pretty dead so we didn't have to deal with a bunch of jerks all night and it really gave us a chance to chit chat. (I take that back, the Benny-boo Roethlisberger story went over pretty well. Although he might have only been feigning interest- I had some pretty rocking cleavage that night...) We got back here at about 12:30 and hung out a little more until he left around 2:30 ish I think. And I'm not going to kiss and tell- not because I'm a lady but because nothing really happened so there. Before he left he said he would call on Monday and I just knew he would (and he did!).
I would say all in all it was a success. I think I can add that to my "successful date tally" which has skyrocketed that number to a whopping 3.5 successful dates. I'm thinking it's probably about time I write a how-to book on dating since obviously I'm really good at securing one random date about every 6 months and not completely blowing it. A lot of women look up to me I'm sure.
This is a rare occurrence for me. The last time I went out in public with a consenting male, just the two of us, was... well... too long ago for me to say because I would like to maintain some shred of dignity, thank you very much. (I was going to make a joke here about the last time I was out with a man was at the driving range with my Dad last weekend but I drove us there so that was hardly a date. And ew, that's fricking gross) However, sometimes the heavens smile upon me and they put me in the right place at the right time and I end up striking up a conversation with a bona fide man (or very masculine looking woman) and I somehow manage to turn on the charm and all of the sudden we're exchanging numbers and making weekend plans. Then in a matter of a few dates I do something that ultimately repulses him and we never speak again. This exact sequence of events (save for the repulsing, that hasn't happened yet, keep your fingers crossed!) occurred last week and before I knew it I was going on a date on Saturday night.
Now some might argue that you should never agree to a weekend date right out of the gate. You should do something casual on a weeknight before giving up an entire Saturday night for someone you just met.
What if you don't hit it off as well as you did after you had thrown back 5 beers on that first, fateful night and you're stuck together through a whole meal?
Not a problem; have you seen how fast I eat? I can eat an entire Chipotle burrito in just under 34 seconds. I'm fairly confident that if this date went south I could have both our meals finished in under 5 minutes. Christ, that's less time than it takes my friend Christine to drink one 12 oz. beer. Of course she's drunk when she's finished but that's a whole other discussion right there.
What if something better comes along for Saturday night and you've already agreed to this date?
Hahahahahahahahahaha. It feels good to laugh again!
What if he thinks you're a loser because it's Thursday when he asks you out and you tell him your weekend is wide open and he can pick the day?
This is a good point. However, I'm in sales and sometimes no matter how hard you try to hide a product flaw, if it's important enough to the buyer they will find out eventually and it will come back to bite you in the ass. So, since he will inevitably find out that I am a loser it's only worth my time and effort with this guy if he knows up front what he's getting into. To that end, I have already told him I have no plans on the weekend and I'll also probably leave that Justin Timberlake poster hanging above my bed rather than hiding it in the closet like I normally do.
So, judge me if you will, but I went ahead and stepped out on Saturday night with a real live man for dinner and drinks in DT Cleveland. (DT is an abbreviation for downtown and it's a cool thing to say so if you want to be cool you should probably start saying it. Or stop reading this blog, that will also make you instantly cooler.)
Naturally I assumed everyone would get behind me on this venture with their unwavering support. And I'm happy to say for the most part everyone did. Truthfully I only told a handful of people that I was going in the first place. It was easier for some to stomach the news, they got to hear about it over the phone so all they had to do was wish me luck and hang up and I couldn't see their doubtful expressions on the other end of the line. Poor Michelle though, she really bore the brunt of it, she had to help me pick out an outfit, think of conversational topics (tell him about the time you met Ben Roethlisberger is getting a little stale Michelle, sorry), she even had to witness an awkward phone call when my date and I finalized our plans and I tried to give him directions to our apartment. To her credit, she hid her laughter really well.
Unfortunately there was one bitch who just couldn't make this easy for me. Fucking Mother Nature. That whore always comes poking around at the most inopportune times. She's always had it out for me. Ever since she arranged that thunderstorm on the day of my high school graduation party, making my hair frizzy and unmanageable and making the backyard of my parent's house a soggy mess. God knows what she has in store for my wedding day. I'm fairly certain that before she and I had our falling out in the mid 80's, Cleveland had 361 sunny days a year. Now it's closer to 52.
Anyways, Saturday rolled around and she saw it fit to drop a foot of snow in lovely Lakewood, OH. I think it was her last ditch attempt at getting my date cancelled. Well too bad for her the guy I went out with isn't a pussy and he sucked it up and drove out here. Sure, I had to carry an umbrella so that the snow pouring down wouldn't mess up my coiffeur and I think I have frost bite on the side of my feet because I wore heels instead of snow boots but we did the damn thing.
The good news is, since it was a veritable blizzard out, we were pretty much the only ones on the road. It was like that episode of Seinfeld when Kramer buys the mile of highway and widens the lanes and then Elaine is driving down that stretch, swerving all over the place and she's like, "oooh, wide lanes, how luxurious". Our swerving was really more on account of the slippery roads but luckily there were no other cars so it was pretty luxurious. (I actually retold that episode of Seinfeld and likened it to our situation and not only did he laugh, he knew the episode I was talking about. That increased his likelihood of touching a boobie at least ten fold.)
The restaurant and bar were also pretty dead so we didn't have to deal with a bunch of jerks all night and it really gave us a chance to chit chat. (I take that back, the Benny-boo Roethlisberger story went over pretty well. Although he might have only been feigning interest- I had some pretty rocking cleavage that night...) We got back here at about 12:30 and hung out a little more until he left around 2:30 ish I think. And I'm not going to kiss and tell- not because I'm a lady but because nothing really happened so there. Before he left he said he would call on Monday and I just knew he would (and he did!).
I would say all in all it was a success. I think I can add that to my "successful date tally" which has skyrocketed that number to a whopping 3.5 successful dates. I'm thinking it's probably about time I write a how-to book on dating since obviously I'm really good at securing one random date about every 6 months and not completely blowing it. A lot of women look up to me I'm sure.
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