Today, MeMe Marie went on not one date, but two! On the same day!!--not at the same time, although that would seriously have made things a lot more interesting--but back-to-back which is almost as exciting.
I think I can determine how invested I am in my dates by how much effort I put into getting ready. For the first one, I wore a t-shirt and jeans, and minimalist make-up. But I dried my hair.
I picked up 60's Band Hair Guy at his home, texting him from the car when I arrived. He made me come inside anyway, and gave me the tour, seeming really excited about showing me around. He even apologized that he couldn't show me in more detail.
Honestly, I could not muster the fake care he seemed to require. I was starving. This was originally supposed to be a breakfast date because he had told me he had to work "early." Apparently early means 5pm, so by 2pm when we finally met, I was ready to eat his stupid house.
We went to IHOP--again, I had really been anticipating breakfast. Poor BHG had dressed in a nice button-up shirt and pants, despite already knowing that we were going to IHOP. IHOP. The International House of Pancakes.
BHG has also cut his hair, so I was entirely distracted trying to figure out what I should call him. About halfway through the pancakes, I had the horrific realization that he almost, sort of, kind of looks like my brother. After that I was less fixated on making eye contact and more concerned about not bolting or screaming at him for all the times he secretly rolled my candy in salt.
BHG was... interesting. Like, kind of weird, kind of like stories you'd expect that the crazy person on the bus would be saying out loud to no one in particular that you pretend not to listen to but can't really help it. Honestly, I felt very... mainstream. I think he imagines a romantic night staying home, tasting exotic beers and watching documentaries, and while that might be fun for a Tuesday, come Friday this girl wants to cram herself into fake leather, hike up the boobs and flirt with the DJ so he'll play my favorite Lady Gaga song twice in a row. And I'm okay with that.
He also broke up with his girlfriend of three years about a month ago, approximately around the same time I was getting dumped, so I have a sneaky suspicion we're both just looking for someone to IHOP with. They also still hang out regularly. If I were legitimately interested in dating this man, either the ex goes, or the ex goes shopping for fake hair to fill in the spots I tore out while she slept.
MeMe don't share.
So... probably wouldn't work out with BHG, even without the weird Freudian concerns that I now need to address with my therapist. He did ask me to get a drink tomorrow when I dropped him off, which surprised me. But twice in one weekend is a lot of forced small talk and I'm sleepy so I gave a vague response. I might hang out with him down the road. I want to hear more of those weird-ass stories.
Oh, I forgot the best part! He got weird about the check. I was not surprised when he brought it up, but his total blunt, casual interest in what should be done with the check did catch me off-guard. I didn't have to fake reach for it or anything. He just looked me in the eye and asked me what I had in mind. I think I made some joke about how I was kind of planning on him taking me shopping after, and went to grab it. Then he said he'd pick it up, looking both concerned about the cost, and benevolent about doing me such a favor.
We went to IHOP. I got a single stack of pancakes, and water. Don't hurt yourself, hoss.
So about an hour later, I had to rush across town to meet Good Personality Guy. For GPG, I added a little eyeliner, and did a quick teeth-whitening treatment. GPG has managed to continue to keep me interested via text, and let me tell you, multiple OKcupid options have fallen through the grate when it came to texting. Men who were cute (ish), funny, charming, and nice via messaging back and forth, would send me text conversations like this:
Slick Hair Guy: Hi.
Slicky: What's up?
Me: I'm doing something delightful and interesting, you?
Greasy McGoo: I'm bored.
Me: Helpful suggestions of entertaining ideas, teasing joke.
Goop-Man: I guess. I dunno.
End of conversation.
GPG was funny and engaging, as well as charming. I was excited to meet him for a quick beer at a casual restaurant. We also had the benefit of time constraint--I had one hour before I needed to leave and meet some lady friends for dinner, so no pressure to linger awkwardly, which was the biggest problem I had with BHG (WHEN DO I TAKE HIM BACK?)
GPG was awesome. He was a great conversationalist in real life as well as text. I got excited, I chatted in an uncharacteristically bubbly manner. He writes, like me. He is well read. He loves my favorite author. He made me laugh, he had awesome stories about his awesome job.
And he's... gay?
Huh? My body was confused. I less wanted to tear his clothes off, and more wanted to ask him his opinion on mine.
I refuse to be the manly one in the relationship. Seriously. He was wearing a nice sweater over a collared shirt and I was wearing a plaid shirt and boots with mud on them. I see this going one way, and that way involves me chopping wood to keep us warm in the winter while he heats up chicory on the stove.
So now I'm facing a dilemma, because I want to hang out with GPG again. I want to sniff hair conditioners at the market and bitch about which girl we know is getting a fat ass while we titter and press our cheeks together for both greeting and goodbye.
'Tis confusing, indeed.
He then invited me to meet him downtown for the tree-lighting ceremony, where he was heading after, which actually sounded awesome and like a fantastic date, but I tried to picture it getting romantic, and all I saw was us giggling together over how bad we are for drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.
Sigh. I shall try again next week.
One thing I will say about this experiment, is already, even in this early stage, my self-confidence is improving significantly. I make eye contact with strangers on the street. I say what is on my mind more. I stand up for myself.
I toss my hair in the mirror and think, damn, lady, you so fine.
I guess I did that already, but anyway, the self-confidence thing is new, and I'm enjoying it.