So, I had a follow up date tonight with one of the guys I met speed dating last month. The date was going much too pleasant and normal to make it “dating column worthy,” so, I had to spice things up. Call it dysfunction, call it a self-destructive subconscious, call it job security, just don’t call it normal to throw wrenches at perfectly nice guys on dates.
I took a long swig of my Mojito (Coconut-Lime Mojito at Geranimos – Highly recommend it!) and said, “So, my big news from Friday! Well, I interviewed with the editor at The Branford Patch and she’s giving me my own dating column!” The conversation turned to pleasentries and me exchanging a summary of details from this post. Then, I turned my crazy on, looked down at my drink, twirled the glass around in my hands, cocked my head to the side, looked up through my eyelashes like movie stars do when they are acting out a very serious scene and I said, “Of course, now that I have my own dating column, you must understand that we won’t be progressing beyond this point (I dramatically made a barrier with my hands across the table for emphasis). I mean, to write a dating column, I have to be out dating. It’s not going to be a good time for me to get serious with anyone.”
His jaw dropped, but he kept his composure. Personally, I can’t believe I said that with a straight face! I mean, who do I really think I am, anyway? Had he called my bluff and told me to knock it off and stop acting like a pretentious media snob, I’m not sure how I would have reacted. Instead, he rolled with the punches and it became an ongoing joke for us throughout the night. Every time he did something awkward or “messed up,” I would pretend to jot notes in an imaginary notebook and tell him I was going to “blog that.”
He seems to think that me blogging about him would only help his dating game, so I told him that I would send him the link.
I had a lovely time.