When I was 18, before I had Gaige, but after I'd started working with his sperm donor, I had a date with a guy I met on one of the many dating sites I was a member of. Back then there was no Plenty of Fish or Tinder. It was Match and Cupid.
I met a guy and we started talking via Yahoo IM (remember that?!). He lived about 30min from me. We talked for a while. He didn't have a picture (never meet someone without a picture!) and so I had to go by his description of himself. He told me he was 5'8", dark hair, tan skin. Sounded cute enough. I agreed to go out with him. Over the course of the week before our date I began to realize this was probably not going to work out. When I said my type was more bad boy than clean cut, that I liked the baggy pants look and I liked a guy with an edge (and I wonder why I was attracting such douche bags). Well, he said I'm more of a muscle shirt kind of guy. Errr..I didn't really know what that was. All I could picture were the hideous tank tops with arm holes that went down to their hips. Whatever. I was too nice to say I didn't think it was going to work, so I kept the date.
When he showed up, he was a good head shorter than me (I'm 5'7"). OK...I thought. He was wearing a skin tight, short sleeve, black shirt and jeans. His hair was gelled it looked almost greasy and he had some strong ass cologne on.
He met my grandma, as I had all my dates do so that she would know what they looked like if I didn't come home, and we left. We went to the mall. I figured somewhere like that, a relaxed environment would help get the awkwardness out of the situation a little bit.
No. That is not what happened.
We walked around the mall and I shopped (with my money, not his..I would have never done that!). I don't remember what we talked about or what we did there. Which should tell you something.
I don't know how, but we ended up at his apartment (do you see those bad decisions?). I was so completely uncomfortable. His place was nice and clean. He was a decent guy. But every time he went to kiss me I would pull away. I just couldn't. I couldn't get on board with the whole situation. He wasn't my type. And there was no faking a spark. It just wasn't there.
Eventually he called me out on it, I just claimed I was shy. I didn't want to hurt his feelings and tell him he wasn't doing it for me. I told him I felt more comfortable talking on the phone (lie). He tried going in the bedroom and calling me lol. Yeah. That happened. Instead of just saying, if you're uncomfortable I can take you home. So finally, after an awkward hour or so, I told him it was getting late and I should be getting home.
There was no goodnight kiss. There was no when can I see you again. He dropped me off and I don't think I ever talked to him again. If I did, I don't remember that conversation.
It's memories like these that makes me so glad I met D. Cause there are so many guys that were just not right for me. At all.
0 comments:
Post a Comment