I have decided to stick with the online dating web site for a little while longer. After all, some consider online dating to be the new black. At any rate, I have landed myself a date with a new guy. Contrary to Mr. Cheapo from the previous post, I started talking to the new guy just a few days ago. before I knew it, we were making plans to meet up for drinks.
So here I was again, driving to a bar on a Friday night. Surprisingly, I did not feel nervous at all. It is as if, in the course of going on dates with douchebags, flakes, and cheapskates, I have forgotten how to be excited about a mere prospect of a date. The days of nervous pre-date jitters just might be over for me (but god, I sure hope not).
I walked into a bar and right away spotted my date ordering a drink from a bartender. I walked up and smiled, "Hey?"
I could tell right from the beginning that I exceeded his expectations in terms of my appearance. During the first hour of our conversation, he kept glancing me over, checking me out. I felt slightly uncomfortable but flattered at the same time. It was a mixed emotion, and I didn't know what to make of it.
At first our plan was to just have drinks for an hour or so and then part ways. He, after all, had a birthday party downtown to attend. But after realizing that perhaps he wasn't a total creep, I agreed to join him at that party.
The club where the celebration was taking place was the most hideous place I have ever been to. Without sounding snobby or overly picky, I will say that you know that a city has a shitty nightlife when one of the premier clubs looks like an Applebee's with a dirty dance floor and a mechanical bull. The cheese factor was completed by a stage, lit up with obnoxiously bright lights and huge white stars on blue painted walls.
The guy finally bought me a drink. Thank God! I thought I had another Mr. Cheapo on my hands. But no, this dude had the decently to spend more than 4 dollars on a date. I let out a sigh of relief.
After an uncomfortable meet and greet ( I must have met ten or more of the guy's friends), we finally got a chance to hang out one on one and get to know each other better. As much as two people can get to know each other in a loud night club.
The conversation was going okay, except that I couldn't help but be slightly bothered by a very bizarre jacket he was wearing the whole time. It was this wetlands-green oversized monstrocity covered with a hideous pattern of large circles. It was hot in the place but the guy wore that damn thing all night long.
So then, he tried pulling an ever-so-classy move of trying to kiss me in the view of everyone at the club, including his friends. I turned my head, avoiding the unfortunate collision and followed the rejection up with, "I don't really make out with my dates at clubs." I mean, I don't know what his intentions really were, but I'm pretty sure they had something to do with trying to mack it up in front of his buddies. Nice try.
At the end of the night, I ended up giving him a ride home, since I guess, HIS ride left the club early. Can't say that I blame him. That place was every shade of tacky.
Just before exiting my car, he leaned in to kiss me again and I gave in and kissed him back for a few seconds. I mean, sheesh, that's probably the most action I'm gonna get in a loooooong time.