A few weeks ago, I accepted a date from a guy who went to the same high school as I did. I won't mention his name. Let's call him NG for nice guy, because he truly is a nice guy. I accepted his friend request on Facebook thinking he was actually a girl that went to my high school. His name is ambiguous and his profile pic is of his little girl. Not a total blond moment on my part. In the beginning, we exchanges pleasant messages like "Like your hair"-him, "Thanks"-me. Then, I realized it was a man. It was ok. His profile pics were ok from what I could tell. He seemed soooo nice, too.
One day he mentioned liking old movies and I mentioned The Artist playing in the area at Towngate Theater. A few days later, I realize that he took this as an invitation for a date, so, being the nice guy that I am, I accepted. He agreed to pick me up at my house. So far, so good. I wasn't sure about the whole thing, but what the hell, right? I even thought maybe we could get dinner instead when he arrived.
He pulled up in a Humvee and came to my door with a rose plant. Everyone groans at that part, but I actually liked the flowers, which have since died a painful death due to my lack of a green thumb. What I didn't like was him. I could tell within 30 seconds that this was NOT going to work. I blurted out "Ready for the movie?" in the hopes that I wouldn't have to spend much time interacting with him. Now, let me once again say that he's such a nice guy. Just not my type at all. No physical attraction to him, we had nothing in common. I'm not a dick. This just wasn't going to work.
We make it to the movie. The silent movie. The silent movie during which he loudly said "I thought you were going to hold my hand?" "No!" I yelled back. Thankfully, it ended and he drove me back home. We made small talk about music- "Do you like Great White?"-him. Me- "NO". "Do you like Pink Floyd?" "NO"
"Well, what do you like?"
After a lifetime, we pull up to my apartment. He reaches down for a piece of gum. Oh, dear God, no, I think. He's going to try for a kiss. I have to fend this off somehow. Panic sets in. I hustle out of the car. He says he'll walk me to my door. OH NO! .I do the only thing I can think of- fend him off with a hug. So, I give him a hug knowing that I can pull away without being kissed. Good plan until he doesn't let go when I try to pull away. "Not yet" he said and held the embrace. Yep. I just limply hung until he took another 15-30 seconds before letting go. I, then ran into my house. Thankfully, he eventually got the hint that I didn't think the date went as well as he thought it did. He quit texting me. Once again, he's a super nice guy. I just want to emphatically state so that no one thinks he's a creep. We were just from opposite ends of the spectrum. Ok, he hug raped me, but I'll let that go. It does make for quite a hilarious story.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
I'm really identifying with this statement. Finally, I've reached a place where I like being alone. Often I'll have offers to hang out with friends but I turn them down. There's a solace & comfort to being here in my apartment alone. Sometimes when someone is here, I'm just waiting for them to leave. That's probably how it started for billionaire recluse Howard Hughes. If I start thinking tissue boxes on my feet are a good idea, I'm going to be concerned. I'm just disillusioned with dating. All men seem to want is sex. All I seem to want is Patrick. I have enough notches on my bedpost. I'd rather have someone to talk to & just be around. Oh, well.