Friday, March 06, 2009

Date 23: There are two kinds of 39

And he was the bad kind.

We had great conversation over the phone. He makes me laugh. He's gainfully employed. He seems fairly conservative politically. Things are falling into place nicely. At one point during a conversation he mistakenly starts think I'm a non meat eating Presbyterian... ( I said pescatarian)... the whole thing was confusing, but still funny.

So I drive over toward Addison after work. I am okay with the distance I am having to drive away from my house, because this one has so much potential to pan out into greatness. After all I'm certain that at this point I've shluffed off the negative dating energy (which I think was compounded by the psychic talking about it out loud).

Butterflies.

Nervous energy.

Check my makeup again.

Cover bags under eyes from a long day at work.

Bite lips to make them more red and puffy. That says "I'm so kissing you"

Get out of car.

Adjust top so the girls look as ready for action as possible.

Trust that he doesn't break the mold and stares inappropriately at my chest.

Walk toward restaurant.

Pace.

Casually check to make sure zipper is zipped. Check.

See him coming toward me.

Consider kissing him to start the date and get it out of the way while my lips are still stinging from the bite.

Change my mind.

Abruptly.

Blink.

Rub my eyes.

eHarmony is full of liars.

Is he 5'7"?

I think he may have grand kids.

Throw up in my mouth a little.

Get through the meal.

Reconcile the evening in my head with the realization that he would be a fun friend.

Not a friend with benefits to clarify.

More of a last call, everyone else you know is out of town friend.

Let him pay.

I've already paid emotionally.

Wow. He makes 39 seem really old.

Avoid his offer to walk me to my car.

The negative energy is back. Thanks Miss Cleo.

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