Dancing with the Devil

I have about one third of the post done for Mexico.  I keep talking about it and not delivering.  There are reasons.  I have them explained in that post.  Kind of.  I also need to tell you about the debacle that was Gryph’s 30^th Birthday…god he’s fucking old.  And whats worse is that he keeps complaining he can’t hang like he used to..this is a project I personally plan to tackle!!!  My apologies to all you senior citizens who are currently 30+…don’t worry, my sorry ass will be there one day.

Today, I want to take the time to tell you about my date last night aka Wednesday night since I actually started writing this yesterday. It’s the first date I’ve been on in quite a while so I was bubbling with all sorts of feelings.  While I never get nervous about a date a part of me felt anxious wondering if it’d be like riding a bike or if I was going to sit there fidgeting and fumbling for things to say.

One day while “virtually speed dating”…you know when your mindlessly browsing profiles online and half paying attention, half drooling over pictures and half drowning yourself in wine…I passed by a profile of a guy who seemed like he had potential.  He looked like my type from his pictures and from what I grazed over in his novella of a profile he seemed to be confident and perhaps even a little cocky which was coming off as slightly attractive, fun and passionate.  I didn’t read everything because he wrote A LOT and I wasn’t in the mindset to actually contact anyone so I made a mental note to revisit. 

You know, writing a lot in your profile can work as an advantage or a disadvantage for people.  You’re being detailed and specific and really putting yourself out there so essentially you are preventing people from wasting their time (and yours) because your saying what they need to know up front.  On the other hand you may get passed over because people have the attention span of gnats and won’t stay focused past your first two sentences and before they get to the part where you enthusiastically tell them to “Message Me!!!” they are already on to the next profile with big muscles or Victoria Secret cleavage. 

Point in case…I figured on a day when I was motivated I’d come back and check him out again since he had certainly caught my eye but I was not making any effort to conquer this mountain now.  Well as luck would have it he contacted me.  Woo! Don’t you just love when a man contacts you?? (I’d venture to guess a guy would get just as excited about a girl writing him?)  I should have guessed based on his profile that his message would be awesome…not only was it good though…it was really funny and clever.  He picked up on a couple of the ridiculous things I put in my profile about how I might have been a pirate because of how much I love rum….and how snuggling is my kryptonite…oh and that I’m obsessed with chocolate milk.  The title: “Pirate or Superwoman???”

The message:

I'm debating which one you might be... I mean, if snuggling is your kryptonite, then you may have met your match and I'm like Lex Luther to you. If you're a pirate, then I'm hiding my chocolate milk for safe keeping.

(Note: totally had to look up Lex Luther…)

Its so simple, yet it completely did the trick.  I really appreciate when someone takes the time to write more then “Hi. How are you?” ….how am I? Well, at the moment I’m confused as to why the fuck you think those 4 words are going to make me want to reply to you.  Harsh?  Perhaps, but lets be honest if this message is any indication of his motivation to be on the dating scene (which I find they typically are) then I’ll pass.  I believe that people who make a little extra effort when they contact you tend to be more serious and interested in actually meeting you and finding someone they care about.

But enough about that.  After a few emails back and forth we discover we work in the same industry and he eventually suggests drinks and we exchange numbers.  During a conversation about football I find out his team is the Cleveland Browns (he grew up there)…his second team is NYG so we’re still good, thankfully…and I made mention that I could totally rock a Browns jersey since my schools colors were Brown & White.  So naturally he asks where I went and when I tell him he responds…”I don’t think we can talk anymore.  I went to a better school.”  I nearly dropped my phone while I typed back…”Please don’t tell me you went to Lafayette.”  And the motherfucker did!!!  Ohhh this is going to be EPIC!!!

Our schools have the most played and longest uninterrupted rivalry in college football in the nation (as of 2005, 141 matchups, and played at least once every year since 1897).  It’s seriously incredible.  And the distaste for the rival is instilled in you from the moment you open your acceptance letter.  From the quality of the education (mine is better as per US News Rankings..thankyouverymuch.) to sports and everything in between.  Its fierce and I loved every minute of it.  So naturally the trash talking started immediately between the Rival and I and hasn’t stopped since.  He mentioned how much fun this will be during football season especially during the yearly game we play and my god is he right.  If we’re still hanging out at that point It. Is. ON!! Like Donkey Kong.  Him AND his school are going DOWN!!!

Fast forward to Wednesday night when we actually meet.  He arrives as I’m pulling on my boot in the driver’s seat of my car (I hate driving in heels) and I can see he’s tall, definitely cute, well dressed, and built…swoon.  Visually we like so far.  We go and find a table on the completely empty roof deck and order beers.  He orders one called the Raging Bitch simply because he likes the name…I fully support this.  So we drink, we chat, we berate each other for the piss poor educational experience the other received and its going really well. He mentioned how he’s looking for the trifecta in a woman…brains, personality, beauty…yes, yes aren’t we all.  And that he’s not rushing into anything and really wants to become friends first…respectable.

Anyway, we eventually order nachos…which I warned him I couldn’t eat due to Holy Week restrictions (no meat/dairy/oil…thank you Greek Orthodox Church) but totally gave him the go ahead to order and I picked out the chips which escaped the cheesy beefy goodness we all love about nachos.  Rival was a totally piggy and a part of me kind of liked it…his lack of concern for how he looked scarfing down the nachos and making a bit of a mess made me smile since he must have felt somewhat comfortable around me to just dive in like that or he just doesn’t give a shit what people think.  Hell I totally would have joined him if it wasn’t for fasting.  Uuggghh religion!!

At one point as I was asking questions about his family…his siblings ages to be specific…when he comments “wow, you really wanna know all the details huh? I didn’t know I was on an interview.”   To which I naturally had to chuckle because truth is Rival…you kinda are.  I mean the name of this blog was born out of the fact that dates are exactly like interviews.  But to avoid a debate after scoffing at him for thinking a question like that was detailed I simply said not exactly and offered to stop asking about “specifics” if he preferred.  He didn’t which clearly just meant he was being a ball buster…what an ass.

Once the chill was too much for us, our coats and our beers to handle we headed inside.  The second floor of the bar has these extremely comfy leather couches off in a corner, a big dance floor and a huge bar.  The entire thing was empty…all the bar stools were up on the bar, the lights were dim and it was completely quiet.  So we settled onto the couches and continued talking and laughing.  At one point I stood up to jump on the couch since we were talking about how squishy it was and how perfect it would be for jumping but once he realized I was serious Rival stopped me since he was afraid I’d hurt myself and he didn’t want to go to the ER on a first date…ugh whimp. 

Then he mentions how he started taking salsa lessons a week ago.  So he is now an ex-football player, with 3! Masters, owns his own condo, amongst many other fabulous things…who willingly signed up for salsa lessons since he thinks it’s a “good idea to learn how to dance”.  Yeah, my thoughts exactly.  So, I challenge him to show me what he’s learned.  And to my surprise and complete joy he stands up, grabs my hand and we head over to the open area and start dancing.  No music, no people…just us and me counting 1,2,3…5,6,7.  Let me tell you the boy can move…he even demonstrated a little booty shake for me (and commented on how he’s got a butt but he’s totally comfortable with it HAHAHA).  It can’t even tell you how awesome this was…plus is there anything sweeter then feeling a guys hand on the small of your back??  It was also really cute how he was yelling at me for leading…that’s right boy, take charge!  When you can let your guard down, do something a little crazy and really be goofy with someone you can connect with them in such different ways then when you’re just on opposite sides of a table shooting get-to-know-you facts back and forth.

Eventually it was getting late and being we both get into work when the rooster crows we decided to call it at night.  We’d already been together about 5hrs at this point so it wasn’t the worst thing to wrap up.

When we got out to my car he immediately says what a good time he had and that we should definitely dance together again soon…then made some other reference about dancing or something which implied sex as a joke which made me blush so badly because I couldn’t think of anything snarky enough to reply and just stood there wide eyed and red.  After getting a good laugh at me he grabbed me, hugged me and gave me a bunch of kisses on the cheek.  The fucking cheek!?!?!?  Just inch your lips over slightly and meet mine please.  I know he was being a gentleman and perhaps he was nervous or maybe he just likes to keep you guessing and anticipating.  Who knows?  All I know is that I wanted to be kissed so now I really want a second date just to make that happen! 

Ps- he just texted me a picture of a bottle of chocolate milk…and it’s from Wawa…which he is about to learn is my most favorite place ever!!!!  Plus one for the Rival.