Yet another first date. I'd been emailing quite a lot and talking on the phone with this guy, and he seemed normal and kind of fun. There was something about him that was off-putting also, but I could never really put my finger on it - so I chalked it up to my imagination and just dismissed it. He really wanted to meet, and I ended up staying in the city for the weekend at the last minute, so although I knew he had a fairly full weekend, I said if he could roust up a couple spare hours we could have coffee or a cocktail and chat for a bit in person. He said he could after 830pm on Saturday.
I wore a summer dress and shiny wedge sandals, make-up, perfume and I did my hair in a fun curly style - I thought we might go out for the coffee, but he came to the door with a nice bottle of wine. He was wearing a real weird tank top (what guy wears a tank top on a date??) and some unflattering denim shorts that I've never seen the likes of before. Not in the past couple decades anyway. He sort of wanted me to open the wine, but since he'd just come from a neighborhood party where he'd had mixed citrus drinks, I asked if he would like something more along those lines and I poured him a lemon drop.
We chatted in the living room for a while, and were actually having a really good time. I knew from talking on the phone, that he isn't the world's greatest conversationalist, so I kept the conversation flowing and upbeat, asking him funny questions, and inquiring about his hobbies, interests, and family, etc. One question I asked was: What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? He replied, "In high school shop class I removed the guard on the table saw, and cut off two of my fingers." I thought he was kidding till he waved his finger-chopped hand at me. The pointer finger was completely gone and the "finger" finger was far too short to ever give the finger.
Well, you know me, I recover quickly from shock, and who am I to be all hoity-toity about a couple of missing digits? We keep talking. I was having fun, and he was too. He said he didn't really like his drink, so we went to the kitchen and opened the wine. I don't drink wine much at all, and red wine never, as the tannins give me a headache. But he had a couple glasses and the conversation was still going.
I don't get all lovey-dovey on a first date; I like to get to know the person first, but we decided to watch a concert on dvd, and as I was retrieving a disc from a basket on the floor right beside him - I was enjoying his company so much that I leaned in to give him a little kiss. Besides I like to kiss and I was wondering if he was much of a kisser. He looked at me in surprise and I said "I was just going to give you a kiss." He smiled, leaned back his head, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth about 2 inches, as if he was going to yawn. I kid you not. I didn't have time to register shock, as I was already on the down-swoop, so I elected to kiss just his top lip, not knowing how else to handle it. Fortunately, his jaw swung back upwards to an actual kiss position, so I could just give him a little peck, and back off. Wow. Awkward. I am seriously still wondering - is that actually the way he kisses? I surely want no part of it. Who doesn't know how to kiss? Isn't it an automatic thing?? A natural response??
Miss Vegas Kitty came in to say hello, and he pushed her away, telling me he really loves cats. He mentioned that he thinks his ex is probably a lesbian.
(I'm doubtful, because every guy I've dated has claimed their ex was either psychotic or a lesbian...) But if she was - I'm starting to see why she might have been driven to that side.
I asked him if he'd like some coffee, even though he's not finished with his second glass of wine. He said yes. I brought him a cup of hazelnut flavor decaf.
He's sitting on one end of the sofa and I'm sitting on the adjacent love seat, the corner nearest him. We're leaning toward each other, within touching distance, about a foot apart, so we can look at each other while we chat. He asked me why I'm not sitting on the couch next to him, cuddling, and I explain that I don't usually get all cuddly on the first date, and that it's also a little odd to talk while we're both looking directly ahead. He asks again, as if he hasn't heard me, and I politely say I like to get to know my dates first, before getting close physically. He asks again. I repeat, still nicely.
He asks again, and again, and again. He says I'm extremely controlling. In a five minute lecture. I say, "I think our date needs to be over." In my head I say, "How's that for controlling, you creepy toad." He contemplates about leaving while sipping his coffee. I get up and start bringing the glasses to the kitchen. He gets the message. When I turn around he is standing at the door, looking kind of defeated, one arm up and braced against the wall. I am momentarily distracted by the hairy rodent clinging to his armpit, but I recover quickly, recognizing it as just some out of control pit hair. He still wants a hug. I give him a brief hug, no kiss (no way) and I say, "I'm sorry our date was bad, but we're just not compatible. Good night." In my head I add, "Good riddance."
So far, internet dating has not resulted in my meeting anyone I would prefer to be with - more than I would prefer to be alone. Which is where I started, and where I still am. And I think that's just fine.
