Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Common Ground of Sorts

No, I’m not dead. Not in a ditch, not killed and mangled and also more killed in a dark alley or anything like it. I have survived “date number one” safe and sound, and I’m sorry that I took so long to come back and post, thereby causing some concern on at least one person’s part.

My lack of posting is not from lack of TRYING, let me assure you! The desire was there. I really wanted to write, and tried and tried, but I kept smacking my face into keyboard from the falling asleep. Because the subject was BORING. The date wasn’t particularly good, or exceptionally bad. It was just really, really ‘hmph.’ Very “Eh.” Awfully “whatever.” I tried to figure out a way to explain the experience, because I knew I was gonna have to tell you guys something. And finally I found the perfect analogy in my head.

This date was a 90-minute ride in a public elevator.

You know how when you’re in an elevator w/ someone else you just make small talk until the elevator gets where you’re going? Like that. And you know how you keep checking to see if you’re close to your floor yet? Like that. And you know how people never look directly at you in an elevator? Like THAT.

Not kidding. Not once did Potential Dude look directly at me. Not once! At first I just figured it was the awkward beginning stuff, where you are really aware of the length of your nose or how hot your hair is on the back of your neck, and then you wish you had a mint no matter what you’ve had to eat that day. So hey, maybe Mr. Potential is obsessed with the size of his eyeballs or something.

But after half an hour? Hellooo, I’m over here!! I’m the thing w/ boobs and a purse sitting immediately to your left! Looky-looky-loooooookyyyyyyyy! And nuthin’. If he hadn’t told me this story about Sarah Vaughn calling him a “blue-eyed devil” I’d have had no idea he had eyes at all! (OK, that’s a lie. I’d have noticed if he had NO eyes. The gaping holes in his head, the putting his hand in the butter – these things would have stood out some. I’m sure. I’m just sayin’…)

Mostly my reaction to the date was pretty much no reaction. Seriously, it was just a non-event. Nothing to be tingly about, nothing to be pissed about. The highlights went something like this:

  • Dang, I’m sweatier then I’d expected after biking there. I will hie myself to the bathroom for paper-towel-bath.
  • Here comes a dude – I hope this is the date! Otherwise? Awkward…
  • OK, older then I’d hoped for. Or he’s lived a really hard 45 years!
  • Yeah, I am pro-making a toast at a good friend’s wedding too. So we have that in common.
  • Crap, I missed my bail-out call from the Queen! (luckily she called back. Because she was willing to go into labor based only on a signal from me. Just to get me out of a painful date. That’s love, people! But I let her go on, labor-free for now)

Tangent: he totally knew what that call was for. I’m all “oh hi, how are you? No. No. Yup. Ok then, I’ll see you later!” yeah, he wasn’t stupid. I could tell from his whole demeanor (I was gonna say ‘the look in his eyes,” but, ya know, eyeless Joe and all that…) that he knew exactly what the other side of the conversation was. “I’m fine, unless you think I need to go into labor right now? I don’t? So you’re ok for now then? Good luck!” So then I knew I was giving him a kind of signal, like “hey dude, I just gave up a perfectly good chance to ditch you. But I stayed, so I must be invested in something here.” And I was kind of worried that he’d take it as too much encouragement. But that was SO not something I needed to worry about! (what floor are we on now? Elevator so slow…)

  • Oh good, we’re talking about movies. I like movies! Of course we don’t like any movies in common.
  • I’m sorry, did he really just tell me that he had to move to a new state because he was running from people who wanted to kill him for owing them drug money? Three Different Times? Someone catch me as I swoon. And by swoon I mean wish that I’d asked The Queen to call back in 20 minutes…
  • Hey, the server is kind of cute
  • Yes, I, too, would spend over $1,000 to see the Beatles in concert. So we have that in common.
  • Ok, we’ve talked about movies that I liked and he didn’t, jazz music which he loves and I hate, the fact that he thinks people who read graphic novels are lame (Batman is awesome and anyone who doesn’t agree is made of poop and eggplant)… are we to my floor yet?
  • Hey, I could never finish the Lord of the Rings books either! So we have that in common.
  • Points for using the words “precocious” and “epoch” both in sentences, both correctly and both without sounding like you were showing off.
  • But still I’m glad we’ve reached my floor. All the small talk was so exhausting.

The last time I went on a date was over 15 years ago. So I definitely don’t have experience at this. And maybe awkward and vaguely boring small talk is what all first dates are supposed to be like? Doesn’t matter – either way I won’t be seeing Potential Dude again. I think he’s on the same page there.

So we have that in common.

No comments: