I'm not much into clowns.

Finally starting to get over this damn cold (10 days? Really?) I decided to go out with this guy Dave, that found me on OkCupid, who's been hounding me all week for a "coffee" date or something. So cliche, no? Oh well.. not every guy can be blessed with a creative spirit, and he wasn't taking no for an answer, so when I finally got my voice back last night, I agreed to hang out tomorrow, aka this evening.

Not much in the mood for coffee, I redirected the date to the area of dinner - he suggested my very favorite restaurant Memphis (what a lucky guess!) and we met there. I'd seen some pictures of him and thought he was sort of cute; he turned out to be more attractive than I expected (always a nice surprise) and pretty tall. Boring haircut and outfit aside, he has big blue eyes and a charmingly vulnerable smile which gets me every time. We sat down at our table and started talking, and the more we talked the more I realized I hadn't the slightest clue what he did or who he was. The embarrassing part was that he had told me but I guess I've been talking to too many different guys because I have no recollection of the email exchange. Oops!

Anyway, apparently he's some big deal engineer for a local company that makes some really crazy new barcode system, and on the side he buys electronics, refurbishes, sells them, and makes a grip off the difference. Cute, smart, and entrepreneurial? Bring it on.

Though he was a math major in college (which he went to in Canada, where he's from) he actually had pretty impressive social skills, and I only ate a bit of my dinner (cornmeal crusted catfish and dirty rice.... pinch me) because our conversation was flowin' as smoothly as my martinis were going down. So far so good!

Once the bill was paid (which he took care of immediately... sexy) he told me he wasn't ready for the date to be over, I giggled, and he suggested one of my favorite late night spots down the street for a few drinks.

When we got there it was packed but we found a cozy table in the corner, and sat huddled together with our drinks, chatting. The more buzzed I got the more I realized that this date was actually going REALLY well.... like, I really like him! This never happens! We had a lot in common, he was totally interested in everything I had to say, and likewise, he's funny, he makes great eye contact (Girls and Boys: This is incredibly important if you want to come off as confident and comfortable, which you DO) and is super positive about life.

He asked me what my longest relationship was, I told him almost two years. He asked how long ago was that? I said about a year and a half ago. I asked when his last relationship was... his smile dropped and eyes darted away. Uh oh. He told me he didn't like to talk about it much. I pried.

"...10 years ago," he told me. I was buzzed but I did the math.... let's see... he's 28... "You haven't had a girlfriend since you were EIGHTEEN? WHY??"

He went on to tell me that he just couldn't figure it out. He'd meet girls, invite them out, sometimes they would say yes, they'd have at least an ok time, and they'd never hang out again. My crazy-dude radar started to beep annoyingly.

I pressed snooze.

I thought it sounded like a good idea to head back to his townhouse (which he owns, cool) to watch Flight of the Conchords, because nothing beats my two favorite New Zealanders. So funny. So sexy.

He changed into his pajamas and we got onto his bed. Ok, wait. Before I start, you have to visualize the layout of the situation.

Basically, we're laying on his bed, watching tv. During a commercial, he looks over and me with this really cute vulnerable look in his eye, and goes in for a kiss. He's a great kisser! I'm excited! We're kissing, we're happy, we're totally vibing on each other.

The show comes back on and I pull away and get back to watching... always playing the interested and then slightly-disinterested and then interested again card, works every time. (If you haven't read the Art of Seduction yet, DO.)

Except, ALAS! Our three minute makeout sesh has proved QUITE the turn-on for Dave, who is now sporting a more impressive tent than the Ringling Bros "Best Show on Earth," or whatever.... I'm not much into circuses anyway.

(More epic than this)

As you can see from my diagram, said tent-poppage is in my DIRECT line of vision, and seeing as he clearly hadn't taken any notice of the fact that I had noticed, I felt even more awkward. So here I am, laying there, and trying to look ANYWHERE but the TV. I check my phone. I send a text message. I ask him about the photography on the wall.

(Sidenote: Don't get me wrong, people. Being a girl in her early 20's with the libido of a bunny, I have no problem with boner. In fact, I like boner. I'm flattered by boner. Boner means fun things are to come. It means progress. It means we're in business. All fun aside, though, I'm still an old-fashioned girl and this was just not the appropriate time for boner. It was clear to both of us.)

(Sidenote #2: The good news is he's clearly packing some serious heat... there wasn't much left to the imagination.)

After the longest 45 seconds of my life, I heard him gasp and roll over uncomfortably, rigid with embarrassment. Maybe the track pants were a poor choice, my friend. "Do you want something to drink??" He jumps up and crosses awkwardly diagonally in front of the bed towards the fridge as to not display his obscene profile. Upon arriving at said fridge, he opens it and stands in it. "Is it hot in here?! It feels hot. Are you hot??"

I accepted a Vitamin Water and we layed there watching Flight of the Conchords and probably both wishing we could sink into the bed and disappear. Eventually after it wore off (which took literally like... 10 minutes. You would think the embarrassment/shame that was written all over his face would help calm things down? Guess not) I yawned and said I better go. He walked me out and gave me a less warm/comfortable hug than he welcomed me with.


I can't imagine what a second date would be like, but I can definitely say that he better not wear pajama pants next time. I wonder if this happens with all the other girls?

... Such is life.

This is an A. and B. conversation, so C. your way out of it.

I had an interesting conversation at work today on the topic of "who pays."

In my opinion, whoever asks for the date pays. If a guy asks me to go out, I think he should pay for the date. If I ask a guy on a date, then I'll pay (or offer to pay) for the date.

Now the way that I get around that (because of course there's a way.... I am a girl you know) is that I don't usually ask a guy on a date. I have gotten really good at making guys think that they are the ones that wanted to go out in the first place. But rules are rules, and if I do actually do the asking I will for sure assume I'm going to pay.

The other thing is that if I want to be really charming, even on the first date, I'll start moving towards my wallet when the check comes. That way, the guy will see that I'm going towards money to pitch in, and will almost inevitably be totally impressed that I am willing to pay/say "Oh no way, don't worry about it!" This definitely scores me some points in the way of being an awesome girl and not a gold-digging moochface. Plus he scores some points by not letting me pitch in (usually...).

The second date usually goes as the first does. This is kind of a crossroads for the budding relationship on many levels; obviously a second date meant I liked him (and he liked me) enough to want to see each other again. On the subject of who pays, if he again pays for this date, chances are he's either A. a keeper or B. has more money than most of the guys his age. If he lets me pay this time, I will either A. not mind because I'm totally digging his chili, or B. be kind of turned off and not see him again. Hopefully it will be option A., as I have a hard time changing my own mind after it makes itself up.

Going dutch (ugh... even the phrase turns me off) is a whole 'nother ball game. It is the world's biggest turn-off to pay for my own meal. I would rather take us both out to dinner, or the movies, or bowling or whatever than have to just pay for myself. If I wanted to pay for myself, I would have gone out by myself. Going dutch to me means that he A. was raised by wolves or B. does not intend to see me again. It most likely means that he isn't expecting to take turns, as in I will pay next time, because he doesn't foresee a next time. In the event that we go dutch, I don't foresee a next time either.

By the third date, I'm more than happy to pay if he'll let me. I don't expect a guy to pay for every meal, show ticket, bucket of popcorn, or pair of rental skates for me for the rest of our relationship. I think that's unrealistic (unless, of course, your name is Holly, Bridget, or Kendra.... you lucky bitches). I am a mostly-modern girl and I do find pleasure in taking someone I like a lot out to dinner. I will, however, never turn down being treated, unless its like a birthday or something.

My friend at work has a different strategy, and its mapped out quite nicely by date number. I hope I get this right (please feel free to correct me if I miss anything).

First Date: She expects him to pay. She doesn't make a move to chip in, but says a big thank you after the check is taken care of.

Second Date: Again, she expects him to pay. But this time, she will ask if he wants some money. Hopefully he doesn't.

Third Date: By the third date, she will offer to chip in, and if he doesn't let her, she'll buy him a drink or something later on.

Fourth Date: By this time she thinks its fair to pick up the tab, and is totally willing to. Although I don't think she's be too upset if he didn't let her, she's happy to pay for this one.

After that, I think its kind of up to the guy to offer to pay, but she'll pick up some too. We both agreed that its a big turn on when a guy pays a lot of the time, but she put it well when she said, "guys our age either can't pay all the time or have rich daddies."

I think that about sums it up.... that's actually a pretty good method. I think I'm gonna try that next time there's a new somebody to try it with. :)