Avoid First Dates When Hung Over

Matt is a 6'3" lawyer. Very witty writing voice, comes from a fantastic Italian family, lives nearby… I am excited for this date. Apparently not excited enough to push away those final few tequila shots the night before though. Nope, like a college freshmen I get plastered Saturday night. Our date is Sunday at 2pm. When I wake up Sunday I am still mostly drunk, and with impaired judgment feel optimistic I can fly through this date with my best charm.

Not quite.

Strike one:
Aside from at least twice losing my train of thought mid-story, I also unintentionally insult him. “Yeah, I tend to get along better with people who weren’t born and raised in California”, I tell him. “Oh, why is that?” he asks. “I don’t mean to generalize and there certainly are exceptions to the rule, but California seems to be a bit more hedonistic. It’s an active and healthy lifestyle, which I love, but I don’t always find people with a lot of discipline and family values. So… where did you say you grew up again?” You know the answer. Cali-all-the-way-baby. Ouch.

Strike two:
We are talking about the movies nominated for the Academy Awards. He hasn’t seen “Doubt” yet and I proceed to tell him all about it. At which point he says, “Guess I don’t need to see that one any more”. Normally I may have caught on to something like that. Don’t they have a name for people who spoil movies for others? Yes they do – lame ass. That was me. The discussion about “Doubt” was an interesting and appropriate bridge in to religion. His profile says he is Catholic (which I didn’t hold against him). Once we both opened up about our perspectives on religion though, I would say he was Catholic and is now much more liberal. Thank God.

The final pitch…
Matt thankfully was determined to make it a good date. After our coffee, we waltz over to a store nearby, wandering around to find him a bottle of wine for a work party he’s attending later. On the walk he asks, “Are you sure you’re only 6’1”?” Ugh. Yes world, that is my height totally barefoot. He asks if I have ever dated someone shorter than me. Of course I have. I can’t get a feel as to whether this is a BIG GLARING FLASHING RED LIGHT hint that he isn’t interested, or if it was a fair question.

A week later, we are setting up a second lunch date. So for now, it looks as though I have avoided the strike out. Hope to redeem myself and make a better impression – he definitely made a positive impression on me. And I will stitch myself a mental note that this Raggedy Ann should never again show up hung-over for a first date. (Why didn’t my Mother ever teach me that?!)

Edward

Unfortunately this is not the Vampire Edward from the “Twilight” series. However, my experience with Edward was punctured with awkward moments.

1. Setting up the “date”.
It took us a baker’s dozen in text message to cook up the meeting specifics. And they weren’t clever or witty or flirtatious text messages. An odd contradiction to the meta-communication on location was that there was also an assertive tone in his text messages. A decisive man is not necessarily a bad thing! In fact I was thinking an alpha male would be a welcome relief. Especially if he was also a Vampire or Werewolf. We finally decided on a coffee shop. Or maybe he made that decision. He definitely decided upon the time, and then he texted me 60 minutes beforehand to make it even earlier. Weird.

2. The greeting.

He expected a hug. Go figure… that’s three for three. What I most liked about this hug was that Edward was clearly 4 to 6 inches taller than me so he decisively put his arms over mine. I would describe Edward as ‘skinny fat’, not rock hard like the Twilight Edward. Fortunately this Edward was warm blooded and never tried to bite me (that I know of).

3. The drink order.

After the brief introduction, he offered to go stand in the long line to get us drinks and suggested I stay to reserve our table. Very thoughtful! However it paused our date right after it started for about 10 minutes. Our table was close to the bathroom, so at least I was entertained by the line of patrons waiting to get in and bumping accidentally in to my knees. My bad.

4. The conversation domination.

It was quickly apparent to me that Edward was more than a professional sales man. Sales was in his blood! He could chat about anything and everything, and he did. My role was mainly to practice my active listening and affirmative nodding. I am good at that. Wonder if he noticed.

5. The real question.

Like a good salesman, he did also throw a few questions my way. The show-stopper was when he asked, “with everything that you do in your life, do you even have time for a boyfriend?” My reply was “well I need something to do now that I’ve finished the Sex in the City series.” Actually, my response was that having a boyfriend is easy for my lifestyle. The majority of the last decade of my life I have had a boyfriend, on top of keeping a full time job and being a competitive athlete. Dating and getting to know people is what seems to be time and energy consuming. Dating and not being exclusive feels like a part time job. He totally understood.

6. The good-bye.

The flowing conversation ended gracefully and we walked to our cars together. We agreed to stay in touch though I don’t think it was full-hearted by either of us. He made some comment about getting a friend to come compete with me in some games… the last awkward moment was my response where I tried to sound interested in that idea. Just never been talented at deception.

Edward was a fine gentlemen. However I think I will stick with the fictional character and let this Edward find a more willing victim.

The Brent Dates

(Yes, another A- date rating). Brent was great on our initial Match.com emails, and even impressed me in setting up our first date. Yes there is a sad commentary about me being delightfully surprised when a guy does what he says he’ll do… like, say, call you when he says, show up on time, follow-up with you afterward… but I digress. I am not a jaded Raggedy Ann. Yet.

We met at 6pm to grab a drink after work. As I was walking up to meet him he said, “Wow you definitely stand out in a crowd.” From the tone in his voice, I couldn’t tell in the least if that was a compliment or his poorly disguised shock that I am a tall woman. No, I’m not super-Shaq-sized, but tall men typically aren’t used to looking at a girl eye-to-eye. Takes them a while to optically adjust. Or that’s the story I’m sticking to.

Thankfully I was prepared for the up-front hug - not that I feel any better about it. Body to body contact with a stranger must be a California thing. I had friends for years in New England and I’m confident I never even shook their hands. Hi-fives, maybe. (Kidding!) Brent was definitely taller than me, a handsome face in a Colorado-cute-way, and pretty skinny. We sat and ordered beers. Three hours and an order of nachos later (he definitely won points in my book that he liked nachos!), we both were impressed at how quickly time had gone by. What’s that age-old saying about ‘time’ and ‘having fun’…?

Was I having fun? We talked volleyball, which he dabbles in. We talked mountain biking, which I’ve dabbled in. We talked Colorado, California, owning houses, the blessings of family… it went on and on quite easily. Not a barrel-of-laughs type of fun, but interesting-conversation fun. I left not sure if there was a romantic chemistry between us, but definitely feeling like I had experienced a great conversation with a good guy. We did hug goodbye, and I was happy when he followed up with a text the next day.

We’ve been on a second date. Apparently still not sure enough about each other to actually order food, so this one again was just meeting for drinks. The conversation got a little deeper – about religion. It was highly entertaining, as we both have very strong educated opinions on the matter, and the two hours moved just as quickly as the first date. About the not eating thing… maybe part of his strategy is to make sure I am slightly calorie deprived so I’m not thinking clearly and easier to impress. Or maybe he’s a total cheapskate. My intuition thinks neither though. I put my bets on the fact that we are slowly feeling each other out. Slow and steady. It’s a turtle race.