The first date: conjures up feelings of both dread and anticipation and easily a host of other mixed emotions. Will he be as good-looking as I remember (since I met him after four martinis, details are fuzzy)? Will he be funny? Will we have stuff to talk about? Uh.
Usually I have a pretty good outlook on these things. The way I see it, there are generally two possible outcomes. The date can go swimmingly well, obviously a favorable result. Or, it can go really bad, which I find very humorous. Like the time a guy took me to a cheesy Caribbean restaurant and told me it was time for us to start a serious relationship. In the most polite way I could, I explained I wasn’t really looking for a serious relationship. He freaked and starting telling me he used to date Victoria Secret models. Then when driving me home, he almost ran over an old lady and got pulled over by the cops. Of course he got in a fight with the cops, got arrested, and the cops had to drive me home. Some would maybe be afraid to ever go on a date again, but I find it hilariously funny.
Last evening I had the pleasure of facing another first date. And it was a real date, not the meet for drinks type of thing. He actually picked me up in a car, made reservations at a restaurant and planned after-dinner activities! I was impressed. Things were looking good. Dinner was nice, conversation flowed easily and nobody said anything weird. Stage two of the date brought us to a jazz club, stage three to a bar. I should state at this point in the story that a little bit of alcohol was consumed. I’m sure most Dating Guidelines would say the lady shouldn’t drink more than a couple drinks, just to keep from embarrassment, roofies and bringing up not-first-date-appropriate conversation. I had probably 4-5 drinks. Over 6 hours though! Don’t judge. I’m a seasoned professional.
Anyway, as my date slipped out of our booth to use the restroom (and I noticed his really nice shoes), I reveled in my accomplishment of a good first date. What a triumph! But how odd for me, as nothing normal ever seems to happen to me…
And then suddenly, my ex-boyfriend appeared next to me in the booth. It was like a horrible magic trick, I don’t even know how he got there. Suddenly he was just sitting there, right next to me. Smiling. We chatted about current life, he couldn’t believe I didn’t know it was his birthday, etc. I was still in shock that people could now magically appear in some time travel miracle, so I can’t remember too much. Then of course my date returned from the bathroom. And the ex-boyfriend kept on sitting there. Still smiling. I had to introduce them. Then the ex relented in his cocky way saying “he better let me get back to my date”. I then had to explain to the date who the ex was.
Thus, a new type of date emerged for me last evening. Now dates can be categorized as follows:
1. Really good
2. Really bad, thus really funny
3. Nicole Style (Good with expectedly bizarre occurrences, as nothing normal ever happens to me)