Thursday, January 15, 2009

Date 1.?: If You Could Even Call it a Date

Guys always say they are confused by what girls actually want. Well, let me tell you. We want to be respected, know that you like us for who we are not what we look like. But at the same time, we have to know that you find us at least a little bit physically attractive otherwise, why not just go hang out with your buddies.

Tonight’s plan… head to the wine bar where I will have a chance to look hot due to the very dark lightening and the booze. Could I give myself better odds? No. So the plan, if I still feel like a leper* at the end of this, I will wash my hands of this particular man. Besides I’m certain there are other men that given a dark room and wine would make a move.

So I arrive at the wine bar a few minutes late but not as late as Link. I sit beside an attractive older gentleman at the bar a few seats away from another older gentleman. The waiters and the two gentlemen are very friendly. They chat with me as I wait (patiently) for Link. He calls at 7pm, 15 minutes after we planned to meet. “I’m lost.” Well, it takes a special man to admit that, so 1 point to Link.

After he finally arrives, he grabs a seat next to me and goes through a very painful to watch wine selection process. For that, no points. I even considered giving him a negative point for the length of time it took.

There is little to no conversation occurring. He mentions that I am being quiet. I tell him I am working on being more comfortable with silence. He tells me he appreciates that and winks. Winks. Winks? Does that mean, “wow I’m glad you finally shut up” with a wink at the end to make it seem like less harsh of a statement. Either way I let it slide because I am slowly developing a red wine haze.

Guy next to me keeps talking to me, guy on the other side of Link keeps talking to me, guy next to me leaves and sexy-sexy musician swoops into the seat and starts talking to me… Link, not doing much talking to anyone.

I would like to take this moment to say that women do not want a man that goes into some blackout jealous rage. But seriously if every guy in the place is talking to the girl you’re with, at least mark your territory. Put your hand on my leg or at least the back of my chair (that doesn’t break any skin on skin contact rules that may be in effect).

At some point in the evening Link says, “I would spend the night with you, but I have to be up early in the morning.” At this point I’m wondering if I asked him to spend the night and forgot… pretty sure I didn’t. But heck, I’ll play along. “Earlier than I usually get up? Cause I can set the alarm.” No response. Okay, tested the water, not good, no swimming today.

Then after what seems like a never ending evening of my wanting him to make a move, his not making a move, and sexy-sexy musician playing sexy-sexy music it’s time to go. Standing outside, Link has the nerve to reiterate that he would take me up on my offer to come over if he didn’t need to be up so early. I am still wondering what offer he is talking about. So I snap. “I call BS on this.”

“You call BS on what? You’re offer?”

“I didn’t make an offer and I call BS on your wanting to come over. You don’t even touch me in a wine bar.”

“It was too public.”

I don’t think there is a word that could describe the irritation I felt. Wine bar? Too public? For a simple gesture? I’m not asking him to get naked and do a dance. I’m asking him to show some interest somewhere other than a text message. Could I feel more undesirable? No. Could I be more irritated? No.

Wait.

Wait.

I forgot about the superhero powers that men wield. As he leaned in to hug me and PAT ME ON THE BACK I realized, I can in fact feel less desirable and be more irritated.

Then 30 minutes later as I lay in bed reading a book about torture and murder trying to cheer myself up, a text.

“Sorry I faded there at the end. I barely made it home. Already in bed. Had fun and maybe next time I’ll touch ya ;)”

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!


*Not to be confused with a person affected by leprosy, but rather the lesser known definition of a person who is avoided by others, a pariah or social outcast.

1 comment:

Smidge said...

Baaaahaaaa!!! What a tool, why did you give him another go after the hot dog episode?

Thank you so much for this blog. Since I am living in a cesspool of devoid of available and interesting men, I find great comfort in your escapades.
MB