One of the things people really don't understand is how small San Francisco truly is. I run into more people I know here on a daily basis than I ever ran in to back in the small town I grew up in (insert banjos.....now!) Hell, even I forgot this fact as I began to email back and forth with my first match.com guy. Baklava guy received his name because for some reason, he decided to start an email conversation with me while making Baklava for the first time (I think he was impressed by the fact I knew what phyllo dough is. Seriously, I'm pretty ghetto and I knew that. Yay Food Network!) Within minutes of talking to each other we realized we were neighbors. We even go to the same bars. This could pose to be a problem but I'm a grown-ass adult (even if I still own Legos), I can deal with it.
So after a week of random texting about baking (no, that's not slang for sex), not sleeping and random one liners, we set up drinks at his bar the Blackthorn - a great place that I have just began to frequent. I arrived there early and immediately started drinking and watching the Sharks lose (what else is new? Heyyyyoooooo...oh shit, sorry Tone), in an attempt to appease my nervousness. However, I once again forgot that my Bro-ness comes out the minute I smell alcohol (that makes wine tasting in Napa awkward to say the least...but that's a story for another time). So there I sat at the bar like a buzzed, slouching librarian repeatedly saying "What the hell Sharks!?!" Maybe not the best first impression but when I turned the smile on (I've still got it!), he seemed too distracted to care.
Baklava guy was funny and genuine - not exactly the kind of person I expected to find on Match. So much like me it was scary - driven, twisted sense of humor, liked to bake at random times (he even brought me some Baklava. And it was damn good...beginners luck I guess). So it really bothered me that something felt off when I met him in person. I just couldn't put my finger on it. He was pretty good looking - muscular body, dark hair, short though (listed 5'8 but he's 5'6 1/2 at the most. Yes, the theory is working..). He talked about himself mostly but I didn't mind - his credentials were more impressive than mine so I jumped to my standby, "Well, since I've been out of prison, my life has become....". Luckily he got the joke but was still looking at me like I was missing an eyebrow - you know something is off but you can't figure out what.
Now I subscribe to a simple rule on all first dates: keep the conversation light and funny. No serious "are you looking to have kids" talk. It's just simple getting to know you, figure out your sense of humor (if you have one) time.
That's why I was genuinely surprised when I was called out on my first date: "You speak with a semi-colon." He said casually as he sipped his beer. "I always know when a joke is coming with you. It's like you've applied what you learned at a bad comedy school to your entire life". I was intrigued by this simply because it made sense but then I realized he said I wasn't funny and dammit, THAT pissed me off. He turned to completely face me looking like he had the answer to an elusive trivia question. "You use humor to disguise all feelings of vulnerability. I'll bet you identify as the clown instead of as a woman because that is where you feel most validated. Believe it or not, you are a beauty who doesn't need to play this role". Then he turned back to pretend to watch the Sharks game. I was completely speechless. My first reaction was to jump to the defensive but I couldn't - he was absolutely correct. I knew this was true and suddenly felt so out of place in a situation where I figured I had the upper hand. Sensing that I was pissed, he took my hand. Ewwww, he had soft hands. That creeps me out on a guy, sorry but it's true...and it still reminded me that something was off.
We left the Blackthorn and started walking in an attempt to find food but ended up at my bar, the Mucky Duck. This was hitting a little too close to home (I will be here with my guy friends from time to time and I will not be known as the village bicycle) so I immediately backtracked when my favorite bartender gave me the eye of the whore.
We were waiting for my bus together when he went in for the kiss. Not a bad kiss but it hit me like a ton of bricks - he looked exactly like a borderline stalker ex-boyfriend I once had (even down to the too soft face and hands). Plus he went for the ass grab right out the gate (slow down cowboy)! It was all too much, no matter how much I liked this guy's personality, no amount of persuasion was going to make this work. So after he gave me the FWB proposition (classy, right?) that I didn't turn down or agree to, I hopped on the the good ol' N-Judah and sailed home feeling pretty good about my date...and knowing I couldn't see this guy again. The whole date hit a little too close to home. So I let a decent guy go with no explanation, I just let the text messages taper off. I have no excuse for my dickish behavior except that for me, if it doesn't work, nothing you do will change my mind. It's easy to talk about the bad dates - those are always gonna be funny to someone. It's much harder to tell the dates where I have let the good ones go because I'm the one who is special.
P.S - Thanks for the baklava - it's totally better than roomie B-Money's!
So after a week of random texting about baking (no, that's not slang for sex), not sleeping and random one liners, we set up drinks at his bar the Blackthorn - a great place that I have just began to frequent. I arrived there early and immediately started drinking and watching the Sharks lose (what else is new? Heyyyyoooooo...oh shit, sorry Tone), in an attempt to appease my nervousness. However, I once again forgot that my Bro-ness comes out the minute I smell alcohol (that makes wine tasting in Napa awkward to say the least...but that's a story for another time). So there I sat at the bar like a buzzed, slouching librarian repeatedly saying "What the hell Sharks!?!" Maybe not the best first impression but when I turned the smile on (I've still got it!), he seemed too distracted to care.
Baklava guy was funny and genuine - not exactly the kind of person I expected to find on Match. So much like me it was scary - driven, twisted sense of humor, liked to bake at random times (he even brought me some Baklava. And it was damn good...beginners luck I guess). So it really bothered me that something felt off when I met him in person. I just couldn't put my finger on it. He was pretty good looking - muscular body, dark hair, short though (listed 5'8 but he's 5'6 1/2 at the most. Yes, the theory is working..). He talked about himself mostly but I didn't mind - his credentials were more impressive than mine so I jumped to my standby, "Well, since I've been out of prison, my life has become....". Luckily he got the joke but was still looking at me like I was missing an eyebrow - you know something is off but you can't figure out what.
Now I subscribe to a simple rule on all first dates: keep the conversation light and funny. No serious "are you looking to have kids" talk. It's just simple getting to know you, figure out your sense of humor (if you have one) time.
If you can work this into a conversation with me, you're golden!
That's why I was genuinely surprised when I was called out on my first date: "You speak with a semi-colon." He said casually as he sipped his beer. "I always know when a joke is coming with you. It's like you've applied what you learned at a bad comedy school to your entire life". I was intrigued by this simply because it made sense but then I realized he said I wasn't funny and dammit, THAT pissed me off. He turned to completely face me looking like he had the answer to an elusive trivia question. "You use humor to disguise all feelings of vulnerability. I'll bet you identify as the clown instead of as a woman because that is where you feel most validated. Believe it or not, you are a beauty who doesn't need to play this role". Then he turned back to pretend to watch the Sharks game. I was completely speechless. My first reaction was to jump to the defensive but I couldn't - he was absolutely correct. I knew this was true and suddenly felt so out of place in a situation where I figured I had the upper hand. Sensing that I was pissed, he took my hand. Ewwww, he had soft hands. That creeps me out on a guy, sorry but it's true...and it still reminded me that something was off.
We left the Blackthorn and started walking in an attempt to find food but ended up at my bar, the Mucky Duck. This was hitting a little too close to home (I will be here with my guy friends from time to time and I will not be known as the village bicycle) so I immediately backtracked when my favorite bartender gave me the eye of the whore.
Exactly like that...except on a red-headed guy with a beard
No, she really doesn't...
P.S - Thanks for the baklava - it's totally better than roomie B-Money's!
Comments
Post a Comment