Punctuality and Peep Toes

"You're late."

He was smiling, but this was the first time I'd seen him in person, so I did that whole is-he-kidding-or-is-he-serious internal thought process in my head. He looked like he was kidding. But somewhere, years ago, I heard that 80% of all jokes are half-truths. Or something like that. This could be one of those times.

I walked up to the bar of the restaurant to officially meet him. He got up out of his chair, like a gentleman would, and hugged me as he greeted me. Wow, I thought. He wasn't lying about his height. He really was pretty short. I was wearing heels, and I stood at least a good 2 inches (if not more) above him.

"See, I knew you'd be late. I have three sisters." He laughed.

"But I really wasn't late. Parking is terrible here! I had to walk all the way from the parking garage," I countered.

He smiled again. "But see, I planned for that."

Already this whole punctual thing was getting on my nerves. Am I always on time? No. Do I tend to take time to get ready? What girl doesn't? But seriously, harping on the fact that I was eight minutes late isn't a good introductory card to play. And I was hungry. You don't mess with me when those two are combined.

I didn't instantly sit down next to him because I expected we'd be moving to a table.

"So did you put our name on the list?" I asked.

"No, not yet. I was waiting for you."

I'm a very patient person, but when it's crowded on a Saturday night and there's a line already beginning to form out the door... wouldn't you go ahead and at least put a name down on the list? I realize some places won't seat you until your complete party is present, but you can at least have a name down. Right?

"Oh. Okay. Well, I'm here now," I replied easily. I'm not one to make a big deal out of things, and I was damned if tonight was going to crash before it even began.

We were eventually seated near the center of the room. The restaurant was really nice... dimly lit, but full of character. I had never been to a tapas restaurant before, so I was out of my element, but he was pretty familiar with most of the items on the menu.

He suggested a couple of things for me to try, so I did, and even though it wasn't my favorite genre of food, it wasn't bad.

We made the usual small talk and laughed about our long phone conversations, and that's when the waiter brought the check.

"So on to the second date, eh?" He grinned as he reached for the check before I could.

"You're already planning that?" I asked skeptically.

"No, I mean, it's gonna happen right now. Let's move this... let's take a walk."

Clever. He was trying to two-birds-with-one-stone me. See, I had told him previously on the phone that my longest first date lasted 6 hours. But to be fair -- and I had made this clear -- 2 of those 6 hours was a movie. So really, it was 4 hours tops.

We walked to a local cafe to get my parking ticket validated, and talked until closing time. The conversation was easy, not forced, but I was still evaluating everything in my head.

I decided a good test was to see what his reaction might be once I said this:

"So... I told you I had something to tell you. It's not bad, but I... well..."

"Please don't tell me you're married. Or you have a kid," he nervously laughed.

"What? No! Nothing like that. I just... well, you know I'm a writer by profession...." I continued.

"Yeah?" He looked at me but didn't see where I was going with this.

"I keep a blog."

I maintained eye contact to clearly see his reaction. It seemed like he was waiting for more, so I continued.

"I write. I keep a blog about all my dating experiences. Some people could take offense to it, so I just wanted to be upfront."

"Oh, okay, I thought you were going to tell me you had 3 kids and a maniac husband or something!" He laughed, clearly relieved.

"Ha, no nothing like that," I said, glad he seemed to handle it okay.

But then he got suddenly silent.

"Well... it is a little weird," he said as he looked at me skeptically.

"What? Having a blog?"

"Well, just writing about the dates you're going on. I mean... now that I know that, the pressure's on. It's a little weird."

"Yeah, I can understand that," I said. "But I promise, your name and identity will never be revealed. Top secret, I swear. And I do write with all honesty, but also the fact in mind that one day, someone might end up reading it."

He seemed okay with that and suggested we go for a walk.

"Okay," I said, as we both got up from the table. "But only if I can run to my car and change into flats."

Smart Phones Are Date Dumb

NOTE: Yes, I'm aware of the irony, since I posted this with my iPhone.

Don't get me wrong. I love my smartphone. I wouldn't trade it in for anything. But it just doesn't understand my dating life.

Like, for example, when I go to search the web. It takes me to the last page I had visited (last three pages, rather), and it's a reminder of who didn't work and how I awkwardly shot them down or let the "relationship" fizzle into virtual thin air.

To illustrate:

My browser opens up to the IMDB page of Kevin Connolly.

Why was I Googling Kevin Connolly? Because as my second date and I were walking in the park, we got into a (non-serious) argument about who "the little dude" was in He's Just Not That Into You. Lawyer guy was correct, I was proven wrong.

So when my browser pops open to that IMDB page, I'm instantly reminded how I tried to let him down easy with the pathetic line of, "But I'm afraid I might wrinkle you!"

(Yes, that lawyer. The one who I deemed to be too "fancy.")

And then there's the other webpage that opens up to reveal "hello" defined in many different languages ("jambo" is hello in Swahili, just for your daily dose of FYI trivia) because the divorced single dad and I had a text message volley going with international flair. We stopped when we got to Japanese. I got tired of having to copy and paste what I was going to text, translate it, and then re-copy and paste it... All for the sake of an "lol."

So, smartphone.... If you're so stinkin' smart, why don't you NOT remind me of the dates I "dumped" and ease my conscience the next time I feel like Googling something?

Just sayin'.


- Posted by Miss Matched using BlogPress from my iPhone

Double the fun? Don't. Ever. Do. It.

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UPDATE

to my double-booked Sunday

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Online dating tip:

NEVER, EVER -- under any circumstances -- tell a date that you double-booked them with another guy on the same day. Ever.

They'll laugh. They'll tease. And thank heavens in my case, they'll still agree to meet. But regardless, it's not a good rule of thumb, and it makes for what I can only assume will be an extra awkward goodbye.

[The following imagined scenario playing out in my head]

              Me: "So... I better get going."

              Him: "Yeah... for your second date."

              Me: "Yeah... um... that."

Just play coy, make an excuse when he asks you why you had to rearrange your schedule, and let that be the end of it.

It's not like I meant to tell him. He prodded me about why I had to shuffle things around and teased about my having "many" dates (he doesn't know about any others, he was absolutely just joking in good fun). It all just came out... like verbal vomit, spewing from my mouth. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

But... On the other hand, it does let them know they're in for a little healthy competition.... hmm. 

No. Don't do it. Just don't do it. Or, at the very least, hope to the high heavens that you have an understanding person on the other end of that phone that says, "Sweetie, here's a piece of advice. In the future, never tell another guy that you have to bump them because of a later date."

I'm mortified. I'm honest and blunt, but I'm absolutely mortified.

-- Miss Matched

Dating Overkill?

I know this isn't the post you were waiting for. This one will have to be quick and dirty because I'm on a time crunch.

I want to devote a good amount of time to tell you about my Valentine's Day blind date, but before I do, I have to give you an update on this weekend.

Are four dates in one weekend too much?

Now c'mon. Before you judge, wouldn't you want to knock 'em out as quickly as possible in order to move on to the rest (in the case they didn't work out)?

Anyway, here's my weekend lineup so far:

Fri: Possibly a late coffee (first date) after work. He's a lawyer, so work hours are loosely defined, as it could be as early as 6 or as late as 9 pm.

Sat: Second date. Different lawyer. Dinner at an Italian place. Now I must find an SDO, pronto. (Second date outfit)

Sun: Here's where it gets tricky.

A.M. - early afternoon: First date. Behind-the-scenes tour of NASA. Pretty cool, right? No, he's not an astronaut.

P.M. - First date. Divorced single dad. Not my first preference, but he was extremely funny over the phone and the kid looks very, very cute.

So.... am I committing Match.com overkill?

First Date Outfit (the LBD)

I have another "first" date tomorrow.

{Freeze frame: I'm not sure why this thought is just now occurring to me, but tomorrow was not smart on my part. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. That could be extremely awkward. This date might have to be postponed. I'll keep you posted, dear readers. Now back to the story...}

It's supposed to be coffee and conversation at a nice little local place. Having had three "first" dates already (meaning three separate dates with three separate men), I've decided I need a "first date outfit."

Here's my logic:

I usually stress over what to wear, how to fix my hair, what accessories to use, etc. etc. However, I've decided that having a designated "first date outfit" cuts down on all that. Just wash... and re-wear.

It's a cute LBD (for all my male readers out there, that's short for little black dress), and I can dress it up or down depending on jewelry and shoes.

Granted, if I run into any former first dates or visit the same venue too many times, the waiters might start questioning me...

But for now it works. As long as I don't get too date-happy and keep them spaced out with days in between to do the laundry, I'm set.

Resourceful and efficient... don't you think?