Well, maybe not DEflated, but certainly not feeling INflated.
I had a date last Thursday night. Honestly, I wasn’t really looking forward to this date. I was tired and cranky and really kind of wanting an evening alone. But a girl’s got to honor her word… Or something.
So, we met up at this bar down the street from my job around 8pm. I had put on makeup and run some more product through my tangles, but was totally just wearing what I wore to work — chucks, dark jeans, black fitted tshirt and cardigan. He showed up wearing a polo shirt and climbing/hiking pants and those weird toe-shoes — the kind that separate your toes. Weird.
But we had a fantastic time. Good conversation, lots of getting-to-know-you topics. By the time I went to pee after my second beer, we were flirting and facing each other at the bar. It was cute.
We talked politics, religion, family. We discovered that we both loved Hendrick’s Gin. Asked the bartender for it and she looked high and low and couldn’t find any. The barback appeared from the dark with a dusty, unopened bottle. We asked for cucumbers and were brought large chunks that had been pre-cut for salads. We made it work.
Cue some sweet kisses. Then cue some not so sweet kisses. Chemistry is pinging. I’m floating on the drive home.
And… he basically hasn’t made any attempt to get in touch with me. I texted him on Friday. It was pleasant.
But no second date in sight. What gives?
I’d like a second date. He’s bearded, bespectacled, liberal, athetist, artistic, tall, smart and funny. So what’s the deal?
Maybe I need more patience. Maybe he needs to grow a pair? Maybe it was just one great date and that’s all it’s supposed to be. Who knows?
I certainly don’t.
I want momentum. I want to be pursued. I want to be chased, even just a little. I want heat and electricity. I want to look at my phone and see who it is and feel flippy in my heart. I want a GREAT first date and then an awesome and creative second date that comes pretty quickly after the first date.
Yay. Dating is SO fun.