NAME OF GUY: “LEOPOLD”
ACTIVITY: dinner, drinks/bar, hookah bar
VENUE: nice restaurant, sort of dive-y bar, hookah bar
MY OUTFIT: sort of short, possibly vintage, tank dress in thick cotton lace flower pattern with fringe at bottom; red leather platform heel sandals
AMOUNT OF TIME BEAUTIFYING: 15 mins (extra makeup and costume change in the bathroom at work, how exciting)
FOLLOW-UP DONE BY: him, next day, said he had fun, said we’d go out again soon
WILL I GO OUT WITH HIM AGAIN: probably
NARRATIVE: This date seemed doomed to fail when I looked up the wrong bus schedule before leaving work and went about 4 miles in the wrong direction. Which I then had to walk in 95 degree, 85% humidity, near heavy traffic and in platform shoes. My date offered to pay for a cab, which I was unable to flag and was too mad at myself to seriously pursue chasing one down the street anyway. I arrived an hour late and a sweaty mess, but I must’ve had a healthy, glistening glow because he said I looked great and actually meant it!
That cut into our drinking time, so I downed a margarita in 10 minutes instead of 50 so we could get to our restaurant downstairs on time for the reservation–my second mishap was that I was already well on the way to intoxication. Dinner was great, the food was excellent; I felt very pampered at this fancy pants restaurant, especially finally sitting in the air conditioning. The conversation was good, although I won’t pretend that everything was not pretty blurry, what with the dehydration and working into that second drink.
Then he gets this brilliant idea to take me to a dive bar, where we talk some more and, you guessed it, drink. I’m at three strong ones at this point, which could’ve been okay since I ate, but I just got started all wrong with my death march from the bus. So, then he makes his move in the parking lot, pulling me in and kissing me, even with some tongue as he goes to load me back into the car. “Mmmmmm, salty,” he comments about my margarita-flavored lips. It hardly seemed that my taste would be all that attractive, I would’ve much preferred to have a mint first, but by this time I’m really too intoxicated to worry. Luckily he’s driving me all over town in his little sports car, which did feel pretty cool. (And he paid for everything.) Who knows how long it’s been since I’ve even been in a car like that, or if I’ve even dated anyone with such a car. Guess I’m not really that kind of girl though, when it comes down to it. He’s more Status Guy, I think and I’m just more Hippie Girl.
So he threw me a little bit of a curve, albeit a pleasant one, by wanting to go to a hookah bar next (this was a long date!) He was quite impressed by my skin show-age while stirring up the hookah’s coal. It’s definitely okay with me to have a guy be flirty like this when he is a bit turned on as long as he’s classy about it. Well, the hookah part was good, chatting some more–I think he was testing the waters perhaps for an unending night but I was firm on getting dropped off at home.
Leopold is quite intelligent, with a golden laugh that makes everyone around him happy. We were set up at a party by mutual friends and he even showed up there later just to meet me, which was nice. Unfortunately, he’s pretty overweight and just not very attractive to me. To make it worse, he’s this really wonderful, got-it-together guy with tons of friends; the kind of guy everyone loves but who still apparently winds up alone; probably due to his taste for a decent-looking girl but with his weight in the way of that. What I do know is, he’s been working on it, he’s lost a ton of weight and I give him major props for that. I think we can be good friends. There’s a lot of value in ending up with many awesome friends who were dates at one time.
Maybe Leopold and I are not really compatible anyway, he has guns for Pete’s sake!!! And maybe even in spite of the weight, there just isn’t enough chemistry. Here is another guy I can’t quite read. Something tells me he protects his heart. Something is starting to tell me that I guess I expect a guy to wear his heart on his sleeve more. But can I really expect that if I’ve also been burned and keep my own heart so well-guarded at this point?
Rating Him:
Face shape: 3
Body: 2
Eyes: 8.5
Hair or lack thereof/Facial hair or lack thereof: 6
Voice: 7.5 (big points for the laugh)
Sexiness: 1.5
Overall Physical Attractiveness: 3.5
Fashion: 7
IT-ness (the IT factor, you either have IT or you don’t): 4.5
Deportment: 8.5
Charm: 9
Amiable: 10
Polite: 10
Interesting: 8
Kiss-o-meter: 6
Rating Myself:
Face: 8
Body: 8.5
Smell: 5
Fashion: 9
Overall Physical Attractiveness: 7.5
Deportment: 8
Amiable: 10
Confidence: 8
Polite: 9