G was a very handsome older guy who I met on OKC. So handsome, in fact, that my friends and I nicknamed him “the Cloon” because he looked like a poor man’s George Clooney. And let’s be real:

YUM. 

There is really no such thing as a poor man’s George Clooney. Because anyone who can be compared to George Clooney is still a pretty handsome, albeit aged, piece of man meat. Other promising things about G included his professions (journalist), interests (bartending), and the way he got down to business planning our first date (fun, low key bar equally metro-accessible between his place and mine). Needless to say, as the day of the date approached, I was pumped cautiously excited.

Apparently, G was pretty excited about me too. Because when I got to the bar for our first date, he jumped up, hugged embraced me tightly, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

This made me IMMEDIATELY uncomfortable. I actually prefer to greet all my dates with a business-like handshake.  I am more into post-coital high-fives than cuddling. (In fact, I consider the next morning goodbye high-five a signature move.) Why? Hugs and cuddling are for family, out of town friends, and babies.  WHY DO WE HAVE TO WRAP OUR ARMS AROUND PEOPLE WE’VE NEVER MET BEFORE? WHY? (Don’t worry. We’re not going to explore my hatred of intimate touch on this blog. I save that shiz for my shrink. YOU’RE WELCOME).

Despite my urge to turn and RUN from somebody who was showing early warning signs of being a Too Friendly Freddie, I decided to stick it out for a drink. And I was glad I did, because G was  very interesting and funny. He was well-traveled and well-read and we had a very spirited debate about where to find the best hamburger in DC.*

*This is a legitimate quest of mine, btw. Think of me as Odysseus, but wearing more clothes and with a healthier fear of the gods. But if you have any burger recs in the DC area, seriously, leave them in the comments so I can come home before my wife gets tired of weaving and is bamboozled into marrying a Porci. (And, if you not only understand this nerdy metaphor but are also laughing at it, we MAY be soul mates.)

Anyway, all was going well, until…

G GOT UP OUT OF HIS SEAT AND ANNOUNCED: “You are so funny and cute, I have to kiss you right here.”

And before I could protest, he had run around to my side of the bar table, and grabbed my face and KISSED ME. IN THE BAR. ON A MONDAY. AT 10 PM.  Less than an hour into our first date. I could literally feel the eyes of the four graduate students at the bar staring at us and my face burned with shame.

Because if there is one thing I hate more than hugs from acquaintances, it’s FULL ON PDA. Making out in a bar/restaurant ranks high on my list of “sins thou shalt not commit in public”, right below those couples who sit on the same side of a table (AHEM, S).  Moreover, this was not some neighborhood dive turned Saturday night dance club where you’re supposed to make out with another 20-something at 1 a.m. while Ellie Goulding plays in the background and your friends first pump around you and pretend not to notice. This was a nice bar, half-filled with a mix of business people and students and other couples  (who I will hopefully never ever see again).

Honestly, friends, after he pulled that move, I stressed myself out so much (remember Anxiety Girl? She got on her craziest tights and took over my body) that I cannot remember the rest of the date at all.  At the end of the date, G asked if he could take me to his favorite burger place the following weekend. I mumbled, “Let me see if I’m free,” and fled for a train back to my apartment.

But, after some deliberation and consultation (as is customary the day after a date),  people convinced me I decided it would be silly to write a guy off for something as minor as PDA, especially since there was no way for him to know I hated it so much. Plus, he agreed to give me a delicious burger!

I am sad but not surprised to report that the burger was by far the best thing that I got out of G. After a couple of dates, I decided that G was not for me and sent him back into the universe to work his charms on another woman who would perhaps be more appreciative. So, watch out ladies. This could be you:

Damn. George. Damn.

First date rating: 4/10. As you can imagine, I docked 5 points for the kiss. If only G waited to kiss me till after we left the bar it would have been a 9.

Lesson learned: Protect your mouth at all times. You never know when someone will plant one on you. (Real lesson learned: TRY not to write people off for little things. This is still a lesson in progress for me, but I am working on it readers, promise!)