Second dates
I think this is an interesting lesson in the importance of second dates, of which I had very few the first go-around because I like to make snap judgments and such. Also it means taking fewer phone calls. Because let’s sum up first date impressions: Tallstack? Yeah, I enjoyed him a lot as a person but wasn’t feeling much in the chemistry department. And the (not my) Dad Guy? Liked! A lot! Wanted to smooch! Wisconsin Guy? Yeah, I think we all know the answer to that question. Let’s see impressions after the second date.
Tallstack invited me over to his place to “then go out afterwards” which seemed like…a booty call in disguise. But then he seemed to propose actual ideas like, a play (that wasn’t playing the night we picked to get together), and a movie theater (all of which had playing times starting before our proposed get together time). Either he isn’t big into researching his plans, or he is entirely nefarious. I picked “not researching,” and said I would ditch lab early so we could meet before the movies started. As I mentioned, he’s my neighbor, so I made a nanosecond stop at home to put on my sexy pants, and then hussled to his house. His house, that he owns, and completely renovated himself. And it’s two hundred and ten percent GORGEOUS, and nice, and put together, and well decorated and…holy crap. This guy is actually, like, a GROWN UP and crap. I’m not nearly adult enough to date him. He cannot ever see my house. We live in SQUALOR compared to this. So I decided to complete the illusion, I’d put my hair in pigtails while he poured us some wine (that he MADE, oh my Christ) and prepared an adorable little platter of finger foods (including Wisconsin cheese, eee!). We kind of had to inhale everything and chug the wine to book it for the theater and whee! I was suddenly a bit tipsy. I was sitting next to him in the dark theater and just…waiting for it to happen. Some type of spark, some type of giddiness stirring inside, and…nothing. A few weeks ago, I sat in a dark theater next to my roommate and it felt like my entire side closest to him was literally on fire for the full two hours (but that’s entirely another story of inappropriateness and woe) but with Tallstack? Nothing. Sometimes I’d notice that our arms or knees had been touching, but I had no idea for how long, because I didn’t even FEEL them touch in the first place. After the movie was over, he invited me back to finish the bottle of wine, and I was all, why the hell not? Let’s see what happens with the booze goggles. Unfortunately, I quickly surpassed the tipsy, I’m going to take off your pants now state, and went straight to, ugnnnnh. Room spinning. Make stop. We watched funny animal videos on YouTube and it was pretty much the most platonic thing ever. It was also 3 in the morning on a week night, and time for me to go home. I stood to go, and he stood aaaaaall the way up too, and then I kind of stood there like an idiot, appreciating all the tallness. And then he swooped in for a kiss, and my stomach did a similar swooping movement and I was suddenly plastered against him. Oh hello, chemistry. There you are. Later, I made the unfortunate discovery that much like Runner Boy, Tallstack also makes…growling noises when he’s making out. And snapping his teeth. Like a bear/alligator hybrid. Which: oh my god, really? Really? Fortunately his kissing mostly made up for that. And that he made me feel like a tiny person. It’s not really a feeling I’ve ever experienced before. Hooray for Tallstack!
TOMGIMDG managed to be THIRTY minutes early to our second date, while I was TEN minutes late. If we keep doing this, it will be an effing disaster. Seriously, he needs to date my mom or something (hee!) if he wants punctual people. It was probably the first singularly gorgeous spring day in Boston. We sat outside in the Boston Commons and ate pizza. We wandered through downtown and Chinatown and the theater district. As we walked by the river to get to the science museum I had to stop and drink it all in for a minute. And then I threw out my arms and said, “Eee! I live here!!!” And…he thought I was somewhat insane, but whatever. At least he only laughed at me a little when I tripped over my own feet shortly thereafter in all my jubilation. The science museum was pretty fun! But I was having the creeping realization that it probably wasn’t the best place to be with somebody who seemed to have a lot in common with…who else? Runner Boy (it’s like he’s haunting me in some way, like a second date ghost). They’re similar in terms of a guy who is generally pretty smart, and is used to being smarter than everyone else around him, and then suddenly feels somewhat intimidated by being around me. NOT that I am making any claims to being smarter than them by any means, but that has GOT to be the way they perceive it, because unnnnngh. Enter complete assy behavior, where TOMGIMDG attempts to explain every single scientific phenomenon on display before the docent can say it, or I can read the sign, or OH MY GAAAAWD, it’s OKAY. I STILL THINK YOU ARE SMART. Please relax. Maybe I needed to let him win a few Scrabble games on our phones or something.
Wisconsin Guy and I met up for dinner before our candle pin bowling extravaganza. He was all dressed up and adorable. And that was the awesome moment where I discovered he is a vegetarian. I think I probably knew from our first date when he was all vegetables, all the time and I was all, “Bring me some animals!” but I was in a teeny bit of denial. So I just broke down and asked. And am now stuck wondering if I could love Wisconsin Guy more than I love meat. It’s a tough call. BUT THEN, he redeemed himself when he confessed to not liking beer. And I was all THANK GOD ME NEITHER and then he got a little squirrely because he thought my unbridled joy implied that I had a lot of abusive, alcoholic ex-boyfriends. But really, it’s rare to find someone who doesn’t like beer, much less a dude. Then he said he didn’t really like his alcoholic drinks to taste like alcohol, followed with, “Wow, that’s probably the most masculine thing I could admit.” But really, that just made me more excited. Following this, he ordered a sangria. For both of us. This will be a running theme for the night. We cannot drink different drinks. He will say, this sounds good, and I will agree but am meanwhile plotting what I will order for myself, and then the waitress or bartender will show up and WG will be all, “We’ll have two of what I want.” I mean, I know he’s older, but that’s a tad old-fashioned for one additional decade. I also discovered that WG has an unremitting ability to bullshit. Seriously. He can go on a random, made up tangent for what seems like HOURS and I’m not clever enough to keep up because I’m too busy laughing. At some point he was talking about how, if he had a show, he’d play the last six songs on the triangle. And one of them would be 30 minutes long, and called “Come and get it.” And then I died, the end. Y’all, candle pin bowling is HARD. Those damn tiny pins just wouldn’t fall down. It should have been a hint that you get THREE balls per frame instead of two. And they don’t clear the pins that you knock down with your first two balls so sometimes they’ll all just be laying around (assuming you’ve knocked down any pins with your first two balls instead of winging them into the gutter as I was wont to do). But apparently, using a skill set I don’t possess, you can use those downed pins to help you in knocking down their still-standing comrades. WG informed me that they were called “good wood.” Teehee! He ended up giving me style points for consolation scoring. And somehow I managed to hurt my damn ass candle pin bowling. I mean seriously, who does that? I DO, apparently. The only thing that could be lamer would be stretching before bowling to avoid ass-related injuries. Thank goodness I didn’t do that. After giving me a ride home, we shared the world’s MOST AWKWARD kiss. Seriously, I can’t even talk about it because it was that bad. I demand a do over, ha! When WG called a few days later, I of course avoided answering even though I felt a little thrill over the fact that we could overcome such a disastrous smooch. Within 20 minutes I sucked it up and called him back and then something strange happened. I wasn’t sweating or breaking into hives. Talking on the phone with WG was actually easy and felt, well, as close to normal as I can feel on the phone. Helps that the boy can talk about something like say…getting his damn suit tailored for about 30 minutes. But now I no longer have the Pavlovian response of hiding my cell phone under my pillow when it starts ringing. (And the do-over kiss was much, much better).
Tallstack invited me over to his place to “then go out afterwards” which seemed like…a booty call in disguise. But then he seemed to propose actual ideas like, a play (that wasn’t playing the night we picked to get together), and a movie theater (all of which had playing times starting before our proposed get together time). Either he isn’t big into researching his plans, or he is entirely nefarious. I picked “not researching,” and said I would ditch lab early so we could meet before the movies started. As I mentioned, he’s my neighbor, so I made a nanosecond stop at home to put on my sexy pants, and then hussled to his house. His house, that he owns, and completely renovated himself. And it’s two hundred and ten percent GORGEOUS, and nice, and put together, and well decorated and…holy crap. This guy is actually, like, a GROWN UP and crap. I’m not nearly adult enough to date him. He cannot ever see my house. We live in SQUALOR compared to this. So I decided to complete the illusion, I’d put my hair in pigtails while he poured us some wine (that he MADE, oh my Christ) and prepared an adorable little platter of finger foods (including Wisconsin cheese, eee!). We kind of had to inhale everything and chug the wine to book it for the theater and whee! I was suddenly a bit tipsy. I was sitting next to him in the dark theater and just…waiting for it to happen. Some type of spark, some type of giddiness stirring inside, and…nothing. A few weeks ago, I sat in a dark theater next to my roommate and it felt like my entire side closest to him was literally on fire for the full two hours (but that’s entirely another story of inappropriateness and woe) but with Tallstack? Nothing. Sometimes I’d notice that our arms or knees had been touching, but I had no idea for how long, because I didn’t even FEEL them touch in the first place. After the movie was over, he invited me back to finish the bottle of wine, and I was all, why the hell not? Let’s see what happens with the booze goggles. Unfortunately, I quickly surpassed the tipsy, I’m going to take off your pants now state, and went straight to, ugnnnnh. Room spinning. Make stop. We watched funny animal videos on YouTube and it was pretty much the most platonic thing ever. It was also 3 in the morning on a week night, and time for me to go home. I stood to go, and he stood aaaaaall the way up too, and then I kind of stood there like an idiot, appreciating all the tallness. And then he swooped in for a kiss, and my stomach did a similar swooping movement and I was suddenly plastered against him. Oh hello, chemistry. There you are. Later, I made the unfortunate discovery that much like Runner Boy, Tallstack also makes…growling noises when he’s making out. And snapping his teeth. Like a bear/alligator hybrid. Which: oh my god, really? Really? Fortunately his kissing mostly made up for that. And that he made me feel like a tiny person. It’s not really a feeling I’ve ever experienced before. Hooray for Tallstack!
TOMGIMDG managed to be THIRTY minutes early to our second date, while I was TEN minutes late. If we keep doing this, it will be an effing disaster. Seriously, he needs to date my mom or something (hee!) if he wants punctual people. It was probably the first singularly gorgeous spring day in Boston. We sat outside in the Boston Commons and ate pizza. We wandered through downtown and Chinatown and the theater district. As we walked by the river to get to the science museum I had to stop and drink it all in for a minute. And then I threw out my arms and said, “Eee! I live here!!!” And…he thought I was somewhat insane, but whatever. At least he only laughed at me a little when I tripped over my own feet shortly thereafter in all my jubilation. The science museum was pretty fun! But I was having the creeping realization that it probably wasn’t the best place to be with somebody who seemed to have a lot in common with…who else? Runner Boy (it’s like he’s haunting me in some way, like a second date ghost). They’re similar in terms of a guy who is generally pretty smart, and is used to being smarter than everyone else around him, and then suddenly feels somewhat intimidated by being around me. NOT that I am making any claims to being smarter than them by any means, but that has GOT to be the way they perceive it, because unnnnngh. Enter complete assy behavior, where TOMGIMDG attempts to explain every single scientific phenomenon on display before the docent can say it, or I can read the sign, or OH MY GAAAAWD, it’s OKAY. I STILL THINK YOU ARE SMART. Please relax. Maybe I needed to let him win a few Scrabble games on our phones or something.
Wisconsin Guy and I met up for dinner before our candle pin bowling extravaganza. He was all dressed up and adorable. And that was the awesome moment where I discovered he is a vegetarian. I think I probably knew from our first date when he was all vegetables, all the time and I was all, “Bring me some animals!” but I was in a teeny bit of denial. So I just broke down and asked. And am now stuck wondering if I could love Wisconsin Guy more than I love meat. It’s a tough call. BUT THEN, he redeemed himself when he confessed to not liking beer. And I was all THANK GOD ME NEITHER and then he got a little squirrely because he thought my unbridled joy implied that I had a lot of abusive, alcoholic ex-boyfriends. But really, it’s rare to find someone who doesn’t like beer, much less a dude. Then he said he didn’t really like his alcoholic drinks to taste like alcohol, followed with, “Wow, that’s probably the most masculine thing I could admit.” But really, that just made me more excited. Following this, he ordered a sangria. For both of us. This will be a running theme for the night. We cannot drink different drinks. He will say, this sounds good, and I will agree but am meanwhile plotting what I will order for myself, and then the waitress or bartender will show up and WG will be all, “We’ll have two of what I want.” I mean, I know he’s older, but that’s a tad old-fashioned for one additional decade. I also discovered that WG has an unremitting ability to bullshit. Seriously. He can go on a random, made up tangent for what seems like HOURS and I’m not clever enough to keep up because I’m too busy laughing. At some point he was talking about how, if he had a show, he’d play the last six songs on the triangle. And one of them would be 30 minutes long, and called “Come and get it.” And then I died, the end. Y’all, candle pin bowling is HARD. Those damn tiny pins just wouldn’t fall down. It should have been a hint that you get THREE balls per frame instead of two. And they don’t clear the pins that you knock down with your first two balls so sometimes they’ll all just be laying around (assuming you’ve knocked down any pins with your first two balls instead of winging them into the gutter as I was wont to do). But apparently, using a skill set I don’t possess, you can use those downed pins to help you in knocking down their still-standing comrades. WG informed me that they were called “good wood.” Teehee! He ended up giving me style points for consolation scoring. And somehow I managed to hurt my damn ass candle pin bowling. I mean seriously, who does that? I DO, apparently. The only thing that could be lamer would be stretching before bowling to avoid ass-related injuries. Thank goodness I didn’t do that. After giving me a ride home, we shared the world’s MOST AWKWARD kiss. Seriously, I can’t even talk about it because it was that bad. I demand a do over, ha! When WG called a few days later, I of course avoided answering even though I felt a little thrill over the fact that we could overcome such a disastrous smooch. Within 20 minutes I sucked it up and called him back and then something strange happened. I wasn’t sweating or breaking into hives. Talking on the phone with WG was actually easy and felt, well, as close to normal as I can feel on the phone. Helps that the boy can talk about something like say…getting his damn suit tailored for about 30 minutes. But now I no longer have the Pavlovian response of hiding my cell phone under my pillow when it starts ringing. (And the do-over kiss was much, much better).