A date, but not mine: Afterwards

Not ready to give up for the night, E and I headed to Virginia Highland: a subcity populated by preppy post-college twenty-somethings. In other words, our kind. The area is then divided into the nice bars to the dive bars, each brimming with preppy post-collegiates. The dive bars have the heavier beer drinkers still in pursuits of drunken debauchery while the nice ones have guys fresh from the country club, drinking Stella. Virginia Highland is my favorite place to mingle and meet.

We settled on the bar closest to our parking space, it was still storming pretty badly. The bar was an in-between the dive bar and the nice bar. We each ordered a pint and headed to a space in the middle of the bar and leaned on the counter. E and I got into a discussion about how hard it is to find worthy guys. We sincerely try and put ourselves out there by attending every festival and event around. We're not impressed with the results.

Just then I turned to check out the boys standing next to us. A blonde one was sitting on the counter we were leaning on. When I looked at him, I caught him picking his nose. While sitting on the counter. In the middle of the bar. I put my pint glass down and looked at E, "I'm ready to go. The guy next to me is picking his nose and I've had about all I can take of losers for one night."

I was in bed watching Gilmore Girls while eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's by midnight. And I couldn't have been happier.

A date, but not mine

The ex-athlete invited E to his house warming party. She decided to give him another try, although she was still skeptical. E knew him much better than I did because he still called her every few days while I only met him that one night. I was a fan of Ex-athlete and I truly believed that E was being too hard on him. I hadn't heard from BDB and pretty much had written that off as a one time thing. The girl who set us up asked him about the date, but she said he's not really telling her anything.

E invited me out to the party with her. She wouldn't know anyone else there and couldn't expect Ex-athlete to spend every moment with her. I saw it as a boyfest-- I could wow Ex-athlete's friends.

He bought E's favorite beer just because she was coming. He gave us the grand tour of his new house. By the end of the tour, I noticed that Ex-athlete had run out of breath and was huffing and puffing a bit. All we did was go up and down two staircases. I mentally giggled and knew E's sensitivity to his weight and that she also noticed this too.

New people arrived and E and I sat out on the balcony while he left to give another tour. No one at the party would talk to us. I thought E would at least get a nod of special attention because she was Ex-athlete's date but his friends never even acknowledged us. I thought they were just socially inept; E thought they were stuck up.

I was particularly dismayed because I was not interested in a single person there-- the party was already a bust with me.

Ex-athlete eventually joined us again. After a long and particularly painful silence I looked up at him, "Hey Ex, tell us a story."

"A story?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of story?"

"Something that will make us laugh."

"I don't have any stories."

"Well, think of an embarrassing moment."

"An embarrassing moment?" He looked around uncomfortably.

"So you're telling me after 26 years, you do not have a single story?"

"No."

I leaned back and sighed. Another silence followed. I quickly finished my beer and got up to get myself another one. I walked inside to his kitchen and slipped. The rest of the party watched as I ungracefully regained my balance. No one laughed. I briefly wondered if I was in a parallel universe, one without puppies and rainbows and laughter.

"I, um, slipped." Everyone continued to stare. "Probably from the rain," I muttered. They went back to their card game. I focused my attention on the keg and pumped.

E walked in to the kitchen to join me and slipped in the exact same spot. One again in dead silence everyone stared at her.

"I did the same thing!" I cried while yanking her into the living room. We sat down on the couch and made fun of CSPAN, which was currently playing on the TV.

Ex-athlete followed us into the living room and turned on the original Nintendo with Super Mario 3 and began to play. He was terrible at it and E and I kept pointing out the hidden aspects that he missed. After 15 minutes of watching the video game, I realized something was missing. It was the old puff puff give. This was the first time I was around a vintage Nintendo without first being offered any substances to make the experience bearable.

The novelty of Super Mario Brothers 3 had quickly worn off. It was E's date, but I was not happy with spending my Saturday night at a party where no one would talk to us and we were forced to watch video games. I looked over at Ex-athlete puffing over the video game. He's still a little boy.

I leaned into E, "Hey, I'm ready to go."

"Me too but it's seriously storming outside."

"You know what? I don't think I care. Maybe if we show up to a bar drenched, someone will take pity on us and buy us a drink."

"What about the thunder and lightning?"

"Your car has rubber tires, we'll be fine."

"It looks like it's letting up. Let's make a break for it."

Ex-athlete, still the gentleman, found us an umbrella and walked us to E's car. I watched as he made his awkward goodbye:

"I'm glad you came out tonight," he said.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later this week," E said as she ducked in her car before he could do so much as hug her.

I looked at her, "Why did you say that? Now he'll call!"

"What are you supposed to say?"

"How about, 'Have a good night?' That doesn't imply any further contact!"

"Oh. Well crap."

"Now you're going to have to talk to him again," I snickered.

We discussed the multiple failures of the night- the rain, his friends, the damn Nintendo, versus proper dating procedures- while driving off and not ready to give up for the night.

The Rules: a book review

Oh dear god.

Has anyone actually read this?

It's completely psychotic.

Let me quote for a minute:

Do everything you possible can to put your best face forward. If you have a bad nose, get a nose job...

Seriously?

I'm at a loss for words here.

Let's continue:

Men prefer long hair, something to play with and caress. It doesn't matter what your hairdresser and your friends think. You're certainly not trying to attract them! Let's face it, hairdressers are notorious for pushing exciting, short haircuts on their clients; trimming long hair is not fun for them...

These women are the Nazis of the dating world! Short haired women with unfortunate noses go straight to the gas chamber. They do not pass go, they do not collect $200.

The book never pauses long enough to decide whether or not you like the man, that doesn't seem the point here. It seems like the goal of this book is to find a man who loves you more than you love him. That way, you'll never get hurt. Actually, I'm sure if I search long enough, I could make that a direct quote.

It was filled with "evidence" to prove themselves right. There's one rule that a woman is never supposed to talk to a man first. Never ever. Then it goes on:

Our dentist friend Pam initiated a friendship with Robert when they met in dental school several years ago by asking him out to lunch. She spoke to him first. Although they later became lovers and even lived together, he never really seemed "in love" with her... He recently broke up with her over something trivial.

First of all, Pam doesn't exist. Secondly, this is as close to comedic gold as it gets.

And now, the Rules I broke on Sunday:

• Rule #3: Don't Stare at Men or Talk Too Much. I filled silences by asking him questions. The book says to let him struggle through those silences. I'm so naughty!
• Rule #4: Don't Meet Him Halfway or Go Dutch on a Date. Because he paid for dinner, I bought a beer later on, I'm such a rebel!
• Rule #11: Always End a Date First. I didn't, E did. Whoops.

So I am destined for a lifetime of loneliness and misery. Shucks.

The Civil War and Dysentary

E got a fatty.

She was not happy about that.

"You have your thing with teeth and bald people," she said. "Let me have my thing with fat guys!"

"I also have a thing with voices," I said.

To be fair, E's date wasn't a Dungeons and Dragons Cheeto-stained finger breed of fatty. He was more of a ex-athlete fatty. And a complete sweetheart.

My dreams of the four of us group dating have been dashed.

E's not in a good mood today. She was disappointed with the whole ordeal. Personally, I liked him. He was funny, loved karaoke, and a perfect gentleman, but E's not attracted and that's all that matters.

***

When I asked for last minute advice from the girl that set us up, she said, "Be yourself." I immediately scoffed her. Who is herself on the first date? You're sweet and polite and proper.

So I asked her husband for advice before I left work on Friday. "Be bold," he said. "BDB is really shy so you need to be bold to bring him out of his shell."

"If I was bold, I'd scare him away," I retorted. Last thing I need is a frightened boy on my hands.

***

They were waiting for us at the bar in the front of the restaurant. They closed out their tabs and we got a table in the darkest restaurant ever. An old man wearing a Daffy Duck tie seated us and offered to get us a drink. The place reminded me of some mafia owned restaurant where you see the old man in the corner wearing sunglasses and smoking a cigar. I checked, there was none.

The first five minutes were painful. Then I announced my mafia comment. E then said that this restaurant must only employ really old people, like from a program or something. "Well, when they're not working at Publix," I joked.

"Or greeting at Wal-Mart," laughed E's date.

"He looks like that dancing guy from the Six Flags commercial," spoke BDB and we all laughed.

The conversation didn't pause after that. Being the outgoing ones, E's date and I carried most of the conversation. We talked of the most random things imaginable, like who could name the most obscure fact about Jewel. I was so comfortable that I forgot I was going to try to be reserved, but I was myself to the core. (My obscure fact about Jewel was her book of poetry mentions her breast in every poem.)

BDB didn't talk much and I worried he was disappointed with meeting me, but I remembered that he was shy. I caught his eye a few times. We spent so much time laughing and talking that we barely touched our food. I was already planning weekends to the beach in my head that would never happen. When the check came the boys paid. I told BDB I would buy him a beer at the concert.

We got to the park and E and I found some chairs and we all sat. E said something to her date and I high fived her for it. I looked at BDB, "I'm trying to bring back the high five," I explained. "Well that and 'Not.' As in, 'That was a great movie. Not.'" (Oh god, I can really be such a loser at times.)

Instead of looking horrified or frightened, BDB laughed.

It was then we paired off. E talked with her date and I talked with BDB nonstop. We talked about my college, his college, MySpace versus Facebook, the civil war and dysentery: we got really silly. He was a really good sport and kept up with my antics.

I was feeling buzzed and was in such a good mood that I leaned into him and whispered, "Hey lets go to the bar and do shots." It was the second one really that done me in. He bet me I wouldn't do a shot of Crown and you don't tell me that I won't do anything.

When we left and started walking back to our cars, I looped my arm inside his to steady myself. He put his arm around me. When I got in E's car, BDB closed the door for me. Good manners turn me on.

I was myself and I had such a good time. That's all that counts. It doesn't matter to me if he calls or not.

Double double, tulle and trouble

"I think E is jealous of you," whispers L.

"Why is that?"

"Because you were offered a set-up and she wasn't."

I smiled, thinking back to when my mother said, "If you're happy, then people will want to be around you." It finally paid off. I'm happy and this girl I only met twice thinks of me when trying to set up BDB. I won. I never win anything.

"Anyways, I told her that E wanted to be set-up too, and she called back within an hour and a half with a boy in mind for her."

My smile faded. Now I was jealous. I didn't win anymore. Apparently this is something our friend can do for anybody, not just newly transformed happy people.

My set-up should have a greater chance of working out. I didn't ask for it; it merely fell upon me in a rare moment of good fortune. I let that thought keep my chin up. I didn't ask...

Then E and I found out that our dates know each other. They aren't friends, but they roam in the same and apparently very wide social circle. (I've done less with people than they have done together and have considered them good friends.) So she set it up: the 4 of us would go out together this weekend.

E's boy seemed okay and all of a sudden I was daydreaming about everything working out and the 4 of us are going to hang out. all. the. time.

"We're going to do everything together!" I told E over dinner last week.

"Yeah, she laughs. We'll get engaged together and have our weddings together!"

I immediately choked on a piece of cheese I just put in my mouth. My mind overloaded with tulle and the cheese got lodged in my throat. E just laughs harder.

I'm glad there are people out there who don't make me feel so crazy anymore.

T-minus 2 days to the big date. I'm excited. I genuinely think BDB's and my personalities match. Same for E and her date.

Only...

Only E's date called her several times this week and they talk 3 hours at a time. BDB and I have been going on communicating 5 weeks now and I've received 2 phone calls, each under 30 minutes. Granted, I'm not a phone person, but I'm jealous again at the attention she's receiving. Moreover, the attention I'm not receiving.

E is 5 inches shorter than me and I'm currently cursing my German heritage. She's small and petite and when I'm next to her, everything about me is bigger. Not only am I taller, but my waist is bigger, my head is bigger, and my shoulders are broader. I've never felt bad for being tall before, but I'm hating it right now.

"I wonder how tall BDB is," I mused.

"Yeah, I forget you have to worry about stuff like that. I would too if I were you. You better wear flip flops just in case you're taller. With me, a guy could be 5'5" and I wouldn't care because he's still bigger."

My eyes glazed over. What if both boys want E because she's so small and cute? I can imagine it. They spot us and both of them see her with her trendy bracelets and hair and say, "That's my date!" And I would have to sit through dinner and a concert, slowly getting drunk while they fawn all over her.

But then again, I tend to overthink things...

Edit: Just found out BDB is 5'9." Definitely have to bust out the flip flops...

Wife Swap and other reasons to lock me up

BDB called last night. I just stared at the phone, I couldn't believe it when I saw his name on the ID. Then I remembered I actually had to answer it.

"Hello?"
"Hey Sarah, it's BDB."

He sounded much more at ease than last time.

"What are you up to?"

I didn't want to tell him I was sitting in my underwear, watching "Wife Swap," and knitting.

"Oh me? Just walked in the door. I'm all tuckered out."

He didn't ask what made me tired and I had the perfect answer prepared. Mondays I have ballet class followed by yoga, both very impressive skills for the dating resume.

"Yeah me too. I'm going to go to bed here in about 30 minutes."

I checked my watch. It was 8:45 PM.

We spoke for about 20 minutes and made plans to meet on Sunday. There is a summer concert series at the park and we're going to go to that.

Now my fears.

This conversation didn't go as well as the last one in my opinion. We spent the whole time disagreeing with each other. But it was about sports which I guess is allowed. And I'd rather disagree with someone then have them automatically agree with everything I have to say. But I felt things were going into the friend territory.

Also, I just got my hair cut and I hate it. I'm absolutely convinced he won't be attracted to me based on my hair cut. Completely crazy, I know, but then again, so am I.