Readers, I hope you picked up on my efforts to rhyme in the title. Iggy Azelea may have the market cornered on Fancy, but I’m still hoping to write my own rap, to the same beat, entitled: Clever.
But I digress. S promised you some date stories, and a date story from me you shall get. As I mentioned in a previous post, I had abandoned the good ole OKC account while I was dating Basketbro T. Of course, during the relatively short period of time that passed between not checking my profile and then disabling it entirely, I got
some a few very decent messages from attractive and interesting seeming guys. As we know, good messages from cute guys on the internet do not come often (see: S’s explanation of Good Message Unicorn for a full treatise on the rarity of such occurrences). So, when I reactivated my account a few weeks ago, I messaged those guys back, knowing full well that it was unlikely I’d get a response since significant time had passed.
And I was mostly right. I only heard back from one of these unicorns. We’re gonna call this guy “S the Third” because he was the third guy I dated with the same first name that obviously, started with the letter S. (If you fancy yourself a sleuth and want to try and guess the name–WHICH IS ACTUALLY NOT THAT COMMON–please see the other posts re: his predecessors, S1 and S2). Anyway, I won’t spend a ton of time describing S the Third, because he was a pretty typical DC prospect. Grew up in the DC suburbs, became a lawyer, major hobbies included traveling, Netflixing, and following DC area sports.
I know, I know, not the most interesting dude, but he was attractive and outgoing, and I am still a bit in rebound mode thanks to Basketbro.
The most important thing for you to know about S the Third happened on our first date. He and I met at a bar near my office that also happens to have board games. (Please know, I’ve been to this bar on dates with so many different men that, at this point, I feel compelled to slip the bartender a 20 just so he doesn’t shout, “You again?” or, “who is the new guy?” or accuse me of running a board game-themed escort service. Though, on second thought, a board game-themed escort service actually sounds like a brilliant idea. I could call it Connect Four Love. Or Battlestrip. The possibilities are endless!)
Anyway, S the Third and I met on a Wednesday night for Connect Four, Boggle, and flirty, competitive banter that involved wagering drinks on the outcomes of various games. We were having fun, which means we played a lot of games, which means we were racking up rounds of drinks. I won’t even insult your intelligence by telling you the obvious consequence of these drinks, save to say at this point I am gonna go ahead and call “Buzzed not drunk,” the 2014 dating resolution equivalent of the Munich Agreement.
So when S the Third proposed sitting down for a pizza dinner at 10 pm, I was 100% in, even though I had to work in the morning. After
splitting I devoured a sausage and pepperoni pie, I was adequately sated but thoroughly exhausted. It was almost 11:30, and all I could think about was getting into my PJs and reading in bed. (God, I’ve never felt older than I did when I reread the previous sentence. Thirty, here I come).
S the Third wanted to keep our date going, but was understanding when I insisted on going home. I hailed a cab, which pulled up next to me. I turned to S the Third and gave him a standard first date goodbye: a hug and a thank you for drinks, dinner, etc. But when I pulled away, and put my hand on the cab door to open it, S the Third grabbed me and went in for a full on make out session! And my reaction was something like this…
The thing is, I had a good time. And S the Third was cute. So I wasn’t opposed to the first date kiss, in theory. But, there were several factors that made this kiss completely terrifying for me:
- I hate PDA. And, while I know that a public first date kiss is inevitable unless you happen to be in someone’s car or house, I would prefer it wouldn’t happen on a busy street corner, with a focused audience that included one slightly impatient, middle aged Indian man who was driving my cab.
- I am also really
cheapfrugal. Those who know me well know that it was already enough sacrifice that I was taking a cab home rather than walking or taking the bus. So all my beer-addled brain could think about as this guy was running his hands through my hair and passionately kissing me, was, “Did the cabbie start the meter yet? How much do they charge per standing minute again? I need to get in this cab and get moving!!”
I must have confined my somewhat illogical panics to my head though, because S the Third was not fazed. He followed up on our date by asking me out again, and we went out a couple more times before I realized, unfortunately, that, in the tradition of the other “S”s that came before him, that he kind of bored me and this would not be more to me than a fun fling. But I thank him wholeheartedly, because after the Basketbro breakup, I needed to be flung a bit.
Date Rating: 7/10. I’d give the above described first date a strong score. It involved pizza, beer, and board games, and S the Third was good company. I just wish he’d have reigned it in a little when it came to the good night kiss. The make out cost me a whole 66 cents in cab fare.