July 14, 2006.
Let me repeat that.
July 14, 2006.
July 14, 2006.
That was the date of the last date I went on. And it was a disaster.
I suppose you want to know why I bring all of this up.
Well tomorrow. Sunday. January, 11, 2009. At 1:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. I will sit down to brunch with a boy. Exactly 2 years, five months, 28 days, 19 hours and 3 minutes since my last date.
I’m a little nervous. The last time I sat down to eat with a boy I didn’t know, the Internet hadn’t been invented. It was a little idea in the back of Al Gore’s brain, but he’d yet to put pen to paper.
What do I say?
What do I do?
There’s a part of me that would just like to cancel, so I can get a good night’s sleep tonight and not have to deal with the stress. Of course if I cancel, I’ll never know if I missed out on the love of my life, the man I’m meant to have children with, who will sweep me away to the Bahamas to live for the rest of my life.
Maybe I’m getting a little ahead of myself.
See that’s the point I’m making. What if I come on too strong and scare him away? What if I don’t come on strong enough and he thinks I’m not interested? I don’t remember how to walk the tightrope of hard to get/available to keep them interested. Of course, if I were being honest here, I’ve never known how to walk that tightrope. Too many times I’ve scared boys away. And a couple of times I’ve ended up dating boys who thought I was more interested than I was. And it’s hard to get some boys to realize that perhaps it’s not working out. Even after you tell them. Think Glenn Close. I’ll have to tell you that story sometime.
So I have to go and sit down in a restaurant and make small talk for an hour or so. And do my best not to sound like an idiot or to make him think I’m crazy. Which I am, but it’s best to wait till the six month anniversary to spring that on them.
And what if he chews with his mouth opens. Or uses the word nigger in conversation. On the first date. (This happened with a dentist that I went out with in Cincinnati).
And then there’s the whole sex thing. Do I just shake hands and leave? Do I kiss him goodbye? Do I stand on the street corner and make out with him? Do I invite him back to my place and fuck like bunnies? (If I’m going to do that I have to clean before I leave for my date). Or do I wait to see if he invites me over to his place? Or do I just pretend I’m not that kind of girl, which we all know I am. But what if he’s not that kind of guy. And he thinks I’m a ho, which I am, and doesn’t want to go out again.
And do I pay for brunch? Do I let him pay? Do we split the check. I’m a good southern boy. I’ve almost always picked up the check on the first date. That is if it’s going well. I tell them that they can pay next time. Which says I’d like there to be a next time. But is that too assumptive? What if there won’t be a next time. Then I’ll just be out the cost of brunch with no return on my money.
And what if it goes wonderfully? And the conversation flows. And we make googly eyes at each other. And he invites me back to his place. But we just sit on the sofa and make out. And after some touchy feely business I tell him I have to go now, because I promised my roommate that I’d finally put the Xmas decorations away. Then what? How long do I have to wait to call him? Or do I call him? It’s 2009. Do I text him instead? And do I do it later and tell him what a great time I had? Or do I do like they do on Friends and wait three days, constantly checking my phone to see if he called. And having my friends call me just to make sure the phone and ringer are working. Or do I not call at all and let him take the lead on this?
Or what if we go back to his place and start making out on the sofa and he’s a bad kisser. He’s one of those tight lipped people that feels like you are kissing a wall. Or one of those people that goes in with the tongue to do some serious plumbing. Or he has bad breath? Or what if we fuck like bunnies and he’s bad in bed? Then what? And if we are going to fuck like bunnies should I bring condoms? Or once again, is that too presumptive? Or tacky? Or both?
And what if he snares me in his trap and convinces me he likes me and turns out to be the worst boyfriend ever. Even worse than David? I think I’d have to push him in front of a bus.
Oh what if, what if, what if?
What if, what if, what if?
What if, what if, what if?
I’m sure most of you had no idea that I was this neurotic. I do a pretty good job of hiding it. And although much of what I’m writing is said in fun, I am a little nervous. Three years is a long time to be out of the dating pool. And I’ve never really been very good at it. Sam was the love of my life and I’ve already written about the lack of a first date with us. And I’ve never really dated any of the boys I’ve had long term relationships with. We just sort of fell into seeing each other, one thing led to another and the rest is history. And I’m not sure that’s the best way to do it. I also know that the few times I’ve tried doing it the more traditional way it hasn’t ended well either.
Which is why I’m awake at 3:30 a.m. instead of getting my beauty sleep. And god knows I need it.
So I guess the best way to approach it is to just go with it. For it. The worst thing that will happen is that it doesn’t work out, he thinks I’m creepy and doesn’t call again. Right?
By the way.
His name is Adam. He’s cute. He’s from Texas. And we talked for 30 minutes on the phone today.
That should say something right?