Back at it

I've been checking out the online thing after a few lonely weekends in which I rarely showered or got dressed, and figured it would cheer me up. Nada. Even the internet hates me. No winks, no emails, no interested parties. Huh. I knew I was lame, but had hoped others might have some faith in me.

Determined to be proactive, I searched on my own throughout the site and winked at a cute guy. Shutting off my computer, I thought "There. I have made some effort." And resumed my lonely life. I wasn't expecting anything, but then when I checked again, not only had he emailed me, but several others had too. What is it with men? Can they smell desperation through their monitors?

So, I emailed back and forth, the same information over and over again. Tried to be humorous, but really? How much can you actually get to know about a person through their key strokes? You can look at their pictures, hear that they like themselves, but in the end it won't be until you actually meet the person face to face that you can find out if you have anything in common. And I can't do that from the safety of my house, unfortunately...

The guy I had taken a proactive step with by "winking" gave me his number and we texted a little before he asked if he could just call. I granted permission.

I shall call him Insurance Guy, because he works for that type of company and I'm not that creative. He was funny, nice manly voice. It was a two and half hour conversation which surprised me. Hell, I was going to end up meeting this one. We agreed to meet up for drinks at a bar close by on Saturday night.

"Last night I talked on the phone with a boy." I told Serial Killer in Training at work the next day. He laughed hysterically.

"A boy?" Shaking his head. "One of your internet dudes? Well, did he ask you out?"

"Yes, I have a date with a boy on a Saturday night. Progress right?"

"If you actually go and don't chicken out, that will be progress. Is he cute?" Sometimes I wonder about this guy. Who asks that?

"I don't know.. In his pictures you can't really tell. He wears hats. I asked him if he has hair which he assured me he does. But he could have a bald spot, you know?" More laughing.

"You asked if he has hair?! You're hopeless."

In a small voice "He still asked me out..."

Chloe came over to my desk and Serial Killer filled her in. I had to show them said pictures of hat, explain our conversation on the phone, fidget uncomfortably. Should I wear a cute dress like the new one I wore the other day? No it looks like an American flag with baseballs on it, they said. (Totally not true by the way.)

Saturday rolled around and I was running late. Curling hair that was newly highlighted, casual makeup that would accentuate my eyes, jeans that would make my legs look longer and but slimmer, black thermal cut a little low and heeled boots. This constitutes dressed up for me. Normally I would be in sweats and a ponytail reading a book with a beer on the patio.

He called ten minutes before we were supposed to meet and I was still trying to get ready. Already at the bar he asked if I wanted him to order my beer... I had ten more minutes!! Why was he early? I told him I was running a little late but would see him soon and then order a beer. After I hung up I thought, did he want to slip something in my drink before I got there? Now I needed to get to this bar and meet a stranger.

When I walked in 15 minutes late, it wasn't that busy so I looked around nervously for Insurance Guy. I still wasn't sure what he looked like. He walked over to greet me. Normal looking guy with dark hair and eyes. Taller than me, thank God. Nice button down dress shirt with jeans. Broad chest, big shoulders.

Over the next 4 hours we had 3 beers, 2 ginormous waters and talked. There were some awkward places when silence infiltrated the flow, but I tried to be fine with that. A cover band started up, female singer began the night with "Rolling in the Deep" which I found ironic. At 11 I said it was time to go. I was hungry and it didn't seem as if there was anything left to do. He refused to let me pay, walked me to my car, gave a brief hug and we parted.

I texted Chloe on my way home, picked up some food and went back to plan A. Sweatpants, beer, book. Chloe wanted details and I put it off. It was your standard first date. He was attractive, but there were no butterflies. There was a bald spot, but nothing drastic. He seemed like a nice guy. It was kind of deja vu Principal style. Upon leaving I thought I wouldn't mind seeing him again, not sure if there was anything there though.

Naturally at work I was asked to recite all that occurred. Serial Killer enjoys my discomfort and I think it makes his work more enjoyable to make fun of me. I would get even some day. Chloe asked all the feely Questions: Spark? Good conversation? Was he cute? Did he ask you out again? Serial Killer asked all the asinine questions: Did you get black out drunk? Did he? Were there shots? Did you see the back seat of his car? What does he drive?

Insurance Guy had texted me on Sunday to let me know he enjoyed meeting me and would like to see me again.
We talked on the phone a day or so later, long conversation in which I regaled him with my food knowledge and dislike for genetically modified foods, consumerism, politics and snow. Sometimes I wonder why I ever open my mouth. Soapbox much?

"I talked on the phone with the boy again last night." Serial Killer snickered.

"Yeah, what did you talk to the boy about?" I told him. "God! What is wrong with you? You're never going to get a boyfriend talking about that shit!"

In a small voice "He asked me out again for dinner Thursday..."

"Yeah, so he can get you black out drunk and get you in the backseat of his car in the parking lot."

"Why must you make everything so dirty." Side bar conversation ensued about my own jokes regarding pickles from Jimmy John's while he preferred the cookies, I mean how can you not find something witty to say about that?

"Look. I'm going to pass down some very important dating knowledge to you. Write this down, you know you're gonna want to put this in your book." I grabbed a pencil and pad of paper because his pearls of wisdom are often straight out of a Tucker Max book.

"First Date: You get coffee or 1 drink. Go through all the fake get to know you bullshit.No one is ever being themselves. Second Date: Dinner and drinks. Start getting to know more of the real stuff. Third Date: Get black out or brown out drunk and find out everything you need to know about that person."

"What is 'brown out drunk'?"

"Eh, that way you remember some of the shit you learned. Oh and if you think you can get it on the first date you move straight to date three. Then there's no need for the second date, or anymore dates really. I prefer that method."

"You're awful."

"Yeah, but I have a girlfriend."

"I still don't believe she exists..."

Thursday night I met Insurance Guy at the Elephant Bar for dinner. Same outfit, different color shirt. I might have to go shopping if I intend to keep seeing this guy. Or do laundry. Huh.

He ordered seared ahi for the appetizer, which surprised me. I had learned he gags at seafood, but I had told him the ahi tastes like steak. He tried and liked. No gagging to both of our delight. We ate and talked, more awkwardness. He insisted on paying again and I spluttered. "Why would you think you needed to pay?" I began to get nervous when he walked me to my car again. Do we kiss? Am I ready to kiss? No, not really. Do I say that if he tries to kiss me or just make it short and move away? In the end he gave me a nice hug and I went to my car.

I sat there checking my phone, my lovely mother had called. Perfect. Then he pulled his car up next to mine on the passenger side. What does he want? Do I get out of the car or roll down the window? He's going to see all the crap in my car... I rolled down the window. Insurance Guy had brought me a book he told me about, fantasy novel, that he thought I would like. It was just laying around his house and he thought it would look better on my shelf. There were the butterflies. Over a book. He had thought to bring me a book. I smiled beatifically up at him.

Maybe he does have potential.