<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

November 06, 2006

how not to end a date

After a nice evening with Senor eHarm - after we had walked to the metro - he turned to me suddenly and stated, "So, now I have a crucial question to ask." Based on past experience, I was a little startled. What on earth would he ask?? Maybe "What is your opinion of cross-dressing?" or "What was your name again?"

Instead, he asked, "Would you like to go out again?"

The evening went well and I was very relieved that I wasn't asked anything freaky deaky, so of course I said yes. And then, as he pulled out his business card and a pen, I heard my train in the distance. I don't know about anyone else, but the metro elicits a very strong - perhaps Pavlovian - response in me. When I hear train sounds and see blinking lights, I want to hustle to the platform. (No, the metro does NOT make me salivate. Jerks.) It was late on a Friday night and only god knew when the next train would be coming along. I proceeded to feel very anxious. He mumbled something about his private email address as he wrote down his other phone numbers on his card. All I could say was, "Um, the train is coming." [Sofa. King.]

He handed me his card, I did the quick air kiss thing (told you I wasn't going to kiss on the first date and, by golly, at least I kept my word for once), and literally dashed down the escalator and onto the waiting train. Right after I sat down it occurred to me how it must have appeared to my date; to a guy who had just mustered the courage to ask one of dating's most dangerous questions in person (as opposed to wussing out like the rest of us and asking via email or text message). The pobrecito had already told me that other women had replied "Yeah, sure I'll go out again," only to pull a fade away, and I had just said "Yes, " and then ran away. In heels.

Brilliant. Vintage Whisky, my friends.

So, when I got home I emailed him to let him know what a nice time I had and that I was sincere about wanting to go out again. I explained that the train awakens in me what must be a rather primeval response. [My inner psychoanalyst begs to differ. I hate her.]

He replied today, and said he completely understood and we're to go out after my long weekend at home. So, Mr. Friday Night ended up being more fun and interesting than I thought he would be...

Now, I'm not so sure about my date on Saturday. He was quite tall and cute, but I think we lacked having enough in common. And I think we both knew it. Despite this, he had the grace to send a nice follow-up message today. I doubt we'll go out again.

It is a relief to not have something negative to say about these guys. Perhaps my luck has begun to turn. Rather slowly; like a goddamn aircraft carrier. Transportation metaphors really suck.

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