Falling Just Short

Running late for a first, blind date is a sure-fire way, in my case, to give the guy a preview of things to come. In my defense, I’ve gotten better over time. I’ve embraced the numbers. I’ve learned that SAT questions do have their place in real life: If you have 5 minutes to spare before you need to be at Location A, and you choose to “fit something in” that takes 15 minutes at Location B, how pissed are your friends going to be on a scale of 1 to 10? The answer varies on this one. But, when I arrived at Justin’s Beer Garden (an actual bar and not a friend’s man cave) a full 15 minutes late, hair wind blown in a wind tunnel sort of way, looking like a bag lady with my oversized purse and workout bag in hand, I was mortified.

Until I saw my date.

To give him credit, he was wearing the red shirt he informed me ahead of time he’d be sporting, but there was no mention of the “I’m a tourist and comfort is #1” tennies. I’m not talking cute, trendy, casual-chic New Balances. These were white running shoes. And they had seen better days. The first thought that popped into my head was, “Well, if you weren’t even going to take the time to get dressed, I would have left my heels in the cab and rocked my Havaianas.” But, I had banked the calories of an Oberon into my allotted caloric intake that day, so I forged on.

His nervousness was palpable. It’s hard not to notice when the table is shaking from the person’s leg bucking beneath it. Throughout the evening, he kept reaching into his pocket for what I thought was his cell phone, but nothing ever emerged. Lucky Match.com blind date rabbit foot? I still don’t know.

Regardless, it’s an unsettling thing to watch someone do in excess. The waitress took our drink order and told us about the specials…which included 2-for-1 burgers. At this, my eyes lit up and I may have even leaned in to show my interest. He did not have the same reaction. It was pretty much at that point that I decided I was ready to order my 2-for-1 burgers to go and watch Next Food Network Star on my couch in sweatpants. But, I stayed…and thought about all of the friends I could bring to Justin’s next Tuesday for this amazing deal.

The more and more dates I go on, the more I discover that those traits I’ve decided a guy “must have” start to lose their attractiveness when in excess. For example, too often, I’ve dated guys who just sort of sat back and observed…not saying much, even when asked to say anything. A guy that can hold up his end of the telephone tin can is great. But, in this case, I started to get annoyed. With myself. The number of times I heard my voice uttering “uh huh,” “wow,” “hmh” exceeded the number of times the Beastie Boys sing “jump” in their song appropriately titled, “Jump.” It was a mean game of verbal Double Dutch where my attempts to insert comments, reactions, questions or – can you believe it – facts about myself became too tiring. I sat back, Oberon in hand, and listened to his oral autobiography.

Almost two hours in, my second Oberon sitting abandoned and warm, I wished that I had pulled the waitress aside at the beginning. You know, to work out a sign or a gesture to let her know that it was time to drop the check and move us on our way. Every time she came by, his response grated on my ears: “We’re okay…right now.” I wanted to rip those “right now’s” right out of their conversation bubbles and scream, “We’re all set!” Which I eventually did, with slightly more restraint. I even, to cushion the blow of my blatant readiness to be dunzo, went as far as to say, “I’m just getting so old. I’m exhausted.” Really? I have maybe two years on this kid and I’m AARP’ing it? But, at that point, I was desperate. I would have lied and said I needed to go home to relieve the babysitter.

As we stood from our seats to leave, I observed that his 5’9” status was about 3 inches off…in the wrong direction. But, he was a gentleman; as much of a gentleman as a 26 year-old is capable of being. As he acted out each chivalrous behavior, he verbalized it. That’s right. He was like a new actor that didn’t realize you aren’t supposed to read the words in the script that are italicized. Those are actions. “I’m going to stand here with you until you get a cab.” Great. I was noticing that…since you were standing here with me…until I get a cab. “I’m going to open the door for you now.” You’re all intelligent people, so I’m just going to assume that you’ve caught on to what his next move was. It was too bad…because those two actions could have been the life preserver that pulled this drowning date out of Lake Match.com. A few of my other dates have merely shouted, “Can you lock it from the inside on your way out?” as I departed. So, this was a step in the right direction.

But, a step was not enough. Back at home, as I laid my head on my pillow and began to dream of 2-for-1 burgers, the sound of a new text message jolted me from my reverie. “Hey! Hope u made it home safe! Hope to see u again soon :).” Letters for words and an emoticon to top it off. [Insert exasperated sigh.]

It was the icing on my date.