(Out)fit To Be Tied
So, I finally got a real date with Blind Date Guy. Technically, I can’t really call him that anymore, since we’ve met and things are no longer “blind.” But for reference purposes, the name sticks. And, I think we’ve established that for the sake of this blog, I like nicknames.
After Extra Large Jerk, I have to admit I’m not totally back on my game. I’m still feeling a little insecure; I’m not quite my old easy-going serial dating self. But with BDG, I’ve got to say I feel pretty good. I mean, he’s already met me, he spent an entire 9 innings with me, and has called and emailed pretty regularly since. Okay, so far, so good.
I was all set, moving right along with my day. My go-to date outfit was clean, and I conveniently already had a haircut appointment so as a bonus, my hair would look awesome. I was going to be spit-shined, down to my shoes. I was ready. Then I got the email: “Hey, I was thinking, how about you come over and we watch the game and have some dinner and wine instead of going out?” Oh, crap. One would think I would be excited to be invited to his house. Or one would think I would have fear about going to his house for the first date. I mean we’re all aware of my slight problem of occasionally losing my pants too soon. But it wasn’t that. What I’m about to say is a total girl thing to say, and nothing anyone would ever expect me to say. And it’s going to make you groan.
It was my outfit.
When a first date is dinner, the outfit is easy. The jeans can be tight and sucking everything in – the heels can be sky high, and the top can be low-cut, because you’re either standing at or perched at a bar, sitting at a table or in a booth. You’ve got furniture camouflage. On a couch, you’re screwed. There’s just no way for all of your parts to look as good as you want them to. Truthfully, the only time I’ve probably ever looked good on a couch is when I’ve been bent over it. I emailed him back: “Sounds great!”
As it turns out, the couch outfit wasn’t a problem at all. We had a great time. The food was great, the game was great, and the company was even better. Extra Large Jerk can’t hold a candle to this guy. This guy was a MAN. He was playful like a boy, he treated me like a lady, and he definitely kissed me goodnight like he knew what he was doing, and liked what he was doing. He was in charge, and I loved every minute of it.
If he asks me out again, I’ll be overjoyed. If he doesn’t, I might actually now know what I’m looking for.
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(Out)fit To Be Tied…Up
I’m glad you’re back in the game… dating agrees with you. Well, dating a good guy more than once, agrees with you, anyway. Sometimes I envy your willingness to strap on your heels, dab on some perfume and plunge into a meal with a man who could turn out to be anybody, from The Oklahoma City Bomber to your future husband.
I actually had a date recently, but you know how philosophically opposed to dating I am in general. If it comes down to a choice between my boxers, my couch and a basketball game or making small talk with another man’s leftovers, please hand me the remote.
I gotta give this guy credit… having the moxie to ask you to come over and watch the ballgame when he’s never taken you out is a bold move. I can almost imagine what was going through his mind:
“The last thing I feel like doing tonight is taking a date to another Italian restaurant.”
“She was cool though, and pretty sexy… I don’t want to just blow her off.”
“I also don’t want to change clothes, give myself a pep talk and leave my house.”
“Maybe she won’t mind coming over here for dinner and the ballgame instead of going out.”
“Who am I kidding? No way will she want to do that. She doesn’t even know me.”
Good for him for winning his internal debate and asking you to simply come over and hang.
Good for you for being cool enough to say yes.
As for the outfit crisis, I wouldn’t know what to say about that – I’m a dude, remember? We don’t think about that shit. But I certainly know what to say about a good-looking woman feeling she looks her best while bent over my couch… I would say that she’s probably right. No, I would say that she’s definitely right.
The truth is, I’d much rather a woman come to my house instead of taking her out. It’s not the money; between the fresh fish, the wine and the appetizers, the money spent is basically the same. It’s not the sex; just because I ask a woman to come over doesn’t mean I’m planning on having sex with her… it doesn’t even mean I want to have sex with her. It just means that I’d rather we kick off our shoes and put on some music for this date than double-check our outfits and hit the ATM.
Good for you for letting him kiss you… and for kissing him back.
She’s back!
