the titanic, the hindenberg, and the train running over a small puppy: recap

ok kids. you knew it was coming: sunday night date = monday morning blog. OH YES I AM. grab your popcorn, your coffee, your booze (made it tolerable for me) and snuggle up to hear the tale:

so. i was SUPPOSED to go out saturday to coffee. life happens, plans change, we were able to rearrange for sunday evening. now. let me first say this is my first REAL date in well over a year. the last time was drinks at the illinois tavern with a guy (which never expanded into a second date). before that? umm…i’d have to say 2007…elvis…before we shifted into being friends that go out occasionally. let me again say: i’ve been OUT several times, but always with clearly defined friends (several long and fucked up stories there). i haven’t had the first date: is he going to like me, could i DATE him, is there a chance of this going to a second date? jitters in a LONG time. so. to sum up: i haven’t been sitting at home rotting for the last few years, but i also haven’t been “dating”.

curtain open: sunday night: post street ale house:

**back track: i met this gentleman (he really was chivalrous) on plentyoffish.com if you haven’t checked it out, don’t waste your time. i signed up after a friend did. let’s just say…~sigh~…plenty of options for men, NONE. ZERO. ZIP. NOTHING. for women. unless you happen to like complete douche bags that want to “hang out” at 11 at night and have an affinity for texting you…well, let’s just say it’s odd to be introduced to ALL of someone before you’ve even met them. i’m not a prude by any means but holy hell men. NO. just NO.

so. i emailed a bit with this fish and agreed to meet for drinks. like i said, fish was a gentleman. stood up when i arrived, opened doors, offered his coat when we were walking back to the cars after dinner. very chivalrous and polite and nice. hhhhmmm…what can i say now…hmmm….was he interesting? hmmm….good question. did he carry on a conversation? hmmm…. was he witty and humerous? hmmmm… did he respond to EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. THING. I. SAID. WITH. HMMMMMM?? yes. every. single. thing. for THREE HOURS. and i have to say: i did not crack ONE SINGLE JOKE for three hours. i TRIED. but it’s hard to joke when you say something and the response is HMMMMM. LEARN A NEW FUCKING WORD. and maybe it’s a cultural thing…i don’t know. he was born and raised in japan (dad: american navy, mom: japanese) so maybe that’s the culture in japan…i don’t know. never been there. maybe that’s their way of showing that they heard you and are considering it before they respond. i have no clue. i DO know that it is a conversation killer. any guy readers: want to kill a bad date? start saying HMMMM after she says ANYTHING. (also a fun game: come up with questions that hmmm…would be a HORRIBLE response to. does this make my ass look big? hmmm… do you take this woman to be your wife? hmmm… was it good for you? hmm… seriously…hours of endless fun).

so. we’re at the post street ale house having STRAINED conversation, but not TERRIBLE. and he asks if i’ve had dinner yet. now a SMART cookie would BAIL at this point. lie, say yes you have. say you have to get home to put the kids in bed on a school night. say your left peg leg is chafing and you need to go home and take it off. SAY ANYTHING BUT THIS: no i haven’t, are you hungry?

~sigh~

i totally blame my well documented obsession with air force boys. tell me you’re a boy in blue and you automatically get extra outs (although for being stationed at fairchild, he had NO CLUE all the different things that this base actually does…real air force? or pretend? hmmm….).

so. we walked over to luigi’s for dinner. which…SCORE…luigi’s…YUM. it’s the chubby bunny in me. i can’t help it. now, here’s one thing i forgot to mention about fish: he’s a looker. not as in ROWR, can i lock you up as a sex slave for the next week, but as in WOW…do you need to look at my boobs one more time or are you good for the next 5 minutes? and it’s not just the boobs. it’s everything. he looks at everything. but your eyes. multiple times. not so great for conversation. and he, of course, did this to the waitress too. now i GET IT. i know guys check out chicks. I KNOW THIS. but on a FIRST DATE? you can’t contain it for ONE EVENING? the rest of the time it’s fine. i get it. hell, let me know which one you think is hot and i’ll compare point ratings with you. but on a first date? and to pull the whole MULTIPLE LEERINGS?

~sigh~

so. dinner. MORE strained conversation. more awkward conversation changes because IT’S FUCKING UNSETTLING when everything you say is met with hmmm… did i say something wrong? have i offended you? are you not interested in this topic? are you not able to follow along? am i using words that are too big? so. at some point between the salad and the actual dinner i switched gears. i went from the unintentionally awkward conversations to the VERY INTENTIONALLY AWKWARD conversations. here’s the bombs i dropped: divorce. closing the baby factory. my brother’s death/cremation. world history. reproduction laws of foreign nations. the poorly engineered and therefore fatally destructive design of the tacoma narrows bridge. oh yeah. i went for it. we covered the history of river front park and world expo ’74 which, naturally, led to the discussion of the FIRST world’s fair on american soil in chicago and the emergence of america’s first serial killer. KA. FUCKING. BOOM. resonse: hmmmm

~sigh~

so. we walk back over to our cars (if you’ve even been to spokane you’ll know that the post street ale house and luigi’s aren’t exactly next door) and i’m READY TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE. so i go for the awkward “thanks, it was nice” hug and he does it. he goes in for the good night kiss. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? WE TALKED ABOUT SERIAL KILLERS.

~sigh~

so i pulled the “but i’m shy” card. yes. *ashamed* i pulled that card. the LAST CARD i could ever be accused of or expected to pull. and i pulled it. said i had to get home to make sure the spawns were in bed for school the next day even though i already knew they were.

GOOD NEWS: on the way home i got to see the police making 6 people get down IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET. nice. oh yeah, and the shallow portion of the report: not TERRIBLE looking, but really not my type. wearing oversized ecko polo shirt (really? they didn’t have it in any other size besides circus tent?), khaki shorts that went well past his knees (again…SIZES?). and those stupid boy sneakers that only pull on but have no laces. you know the ones…they look like air jordans without the laces? HATE. yes, i’m shallow. also: *ashamed* YOU’RE IN THE MILITARY. they have GOOD medical benefits. USE THEM. GET BRACES. sorry. but teeth…it’s one of my HUGE pet peeves.

so. not TERRIBLE. really not the worst date i’ve been on. but not an experience i’m looking to repeat any time soon. unless someone buys me a tiny wireless camera and we can ALL play the hmm….drinking game. THAT, and that alone might warrant a second date.