While I never encourage my readers to make the same mistake I did, I DO encourage you to enjoy the mistakes you do make…because they make for great material. I am a fan of dating apps. They are equal parts entertaining and depressing. Sprinkled with a bit of bizarre fascination that I have on the subject of dating, and you have the makings for an interesting social calendar. In the past two months, I have found two vastly different subjects on the matter. Both professional, both handsome, both head scratchingly at odds with my expectations. Perhaps that is the tragic irony, reality is far more disappointing than our imagination.
Bumble #1 was by far the most adorably kind of the two. I pulled out some player worthy moves with homemade dinner. Full disclosure: my steak could have been better, but the asparagus was on point. After a few glasses of pinot, and nice conversation, the night was coming to an end with a viewing of one of my favorite movies. Then, perhaps the nicest thing I could dare imagine on date occurred. He asked for permission to kiss me. You read that correctly, he ASKED!
The raging Type A Diva that I am loved everything about this. It was a great kiss and everything else to follow, was great. No seriously, it was great! The next day I must have said about five times to various girlfriends “He’s such a sweet guy.” or “He was such a gentleman.” Cut to my surprise days later when I…never…heard…from….him….again. No seriously…never. The “Good Guy” myth was forever blown out the water by the failed communication of its leader. While I don’t necessarily encourage sleeping with someone one on the first date (lol), I do make the rare exception. Apparently, this was one time I should have stuck with my better judgement..and never trust a man who does’nt drink.
Bumble #2 is part of a new class of men I have found a slight fascination with- The Young Ones. Eager to please, hopelessly optimistic. While I am proud to be a teacher in many respects, in others, I simply lack the patience. My grandmother once told me “Never love a man who roots for a rival team.” She was a die hard Dawg fan, and her wisdom rings true even today. Bumble #2’s winning quality was his ability to make me laugh. Bonus points: his access to Tequila. And as we all know, tequila has never done me wrong.
As I sit here today, I can’t put my finger on it…exactly. What was a miss? His saunter approach to kissing me? No- that was some “A” level kissing. Was it his youth? His charm? His ability to make me feel like the greatest inconvenience to his day? Or maybe, just maybe, his appeal didn’t match the version that I assumed I would meet. Hell, maybe it was an off day. We’ve all had them. The hair doesn’t lay right, none of your clothes look good, your penis isn’t working at its normal Spartan level of manliness.
The moral of the story is, sometimes the image we have of not only ourselves but of others, can be…wrong. The Good Guy may want to do inappropriate things with you, but never show you off in public because of your political views. And folly is lost on the Youth, and so is charm. Perhaps the wisest choice is to stick with the person who makes you smile, or at least makes you pause and enjoy the simple things. Like a slow dance on a sidewalk, in a small country town somewhere in Georgia.