Hi. I'm a bit embarrassed that it's been more than two months. I do have some stories for you though; some interesting, some perhaps not. We'll start with an update on the speed-daters.
They lived up to their billing. I went out with Frank once, to a wine bar in the Village where one of the servers looked like an Italian version of Jake Gyllenhaal. We had a good time, he's one of those guys who doesn't laugh long, but laughs loud. You know, like one gigantic "Ha!" or whoop of laughter that turns heads. We're somewhat similar, a little reserved at first, but smart and fun (if I do say so myself ;o) ). Anyway, a day or two later I proposed getting together again over that weekend, forgetting he was going off to visit his parents, so I said we could talk when he got back. Well, we didn't. And that was that. I toyed with the idea of calling him, but I wasn't actually interested enough.
The there's Travis. He was a charmer, an easy talker, and in the words of a friend "clearly into" me. After our first date, where we went to dinner followed by the best gelato (Cones, in the West Village), and a parting kiss ont he subway, I knew I liked him. When he volunteered to go out to dinner and trivia with my friends from work, I liked him more. I mean, so ready to meet the friends? I've got to say I was a bit impressed with the cock-sure move. At trivia he was funny, engaging, and made everyone else like him too. He came home with me, and though we spent a PG-rated evening, he did spend the night. I will say, it was nice to have someone there in the morning to have breakfast with and kiss goodbye. Too corny? Well, he had a business trip so we didn't see each other for a week or so, but got together for dinner soon after. He suggested coming up to my neighborhood, so I am not so naive that I believed we wouldn't end up at my place, but he also mentioned the plus that the trains would be more frequent this time of day, so I figured he wouldn't be staying. Imagine my surprise when he showed up with a bag. Not a briefcase, but a bonafide overnight duffle bag. I'm sorry, what? This was the fourth time we had ever spent time together. Maybe I set a bad precedent the time before, but it still seemed presumptuous of him. To cut to the chase, he did not get everything he was hoping for, and neither did I, since what I wanted was my bed to myself. The next morning only compounded my now waning infatuation. I get up early. I get to work early. Earlier than I have to, yes, but that's the way I like it. He had left with me on a weekday before, so should've known that. If he had forgotten, he had me at 6:15 to remind him that he had thirty minutes to shower/and or have breakfast before I had to leave. Maybe he was acting out his disappointment with the night before, but I sat and waited while he tooled around and made me leave 15 minutes later than I wanted to. I know it's technically not a big deal, but when it's not your house you should be polite enough to get out when requested to by the owner of said house. Anyway, that kind of killed it for me, and the two following weekends at Phish concerts apparently killed it for him . . . or maybe he wasn't so much interested in me as what I might do for him. Personally, I don't think I'm missing out on much.
My next foray in the dating world was a blind date. More on that in a bit, as I should probably get up and do other things today. Have a good one!
