I have heard over and over again, that I will never meet the man of my dreams in a bar. Why is that? I mean, I go to bars... rather frequently in fact, and so if that's where I am on a weekend, then why would I not meet someone equally as charming and wonderful as I am there? I decided to throw caution to the wind, something I'm actually used to doing in my dating life apparently, and take the oddly charming drunken stranger up on his offer for a date.
He was handsomely disheveled and had a little mischievous grin on his face when he approached me and said, "I was wondering...do your lips taste as good as they look?" I laughed and said, "I don't know, maybe you should try them and find out?" Just kidding! I didn't say that...that was even a little too bold for me! I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Anyway, what I really said was, "That's what I have been told." His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he offered to buy me a drink. By this time, I had already had two vodka sodas and was feeling pretty flirtatious, so after that third drink, I asked him if he felt like walking me home.
When I heard his lame attempt at a pick-up line, I had pegged him for someone who would only be good to take home and make out with for a while, but on the walk home he showed a different side of him; joking around, giving me a piggy back ride and even holding my hand. The minute he starting to sing, "I would like to hold your little hand" in a mock Rusted Root voice, while grabbing for my hand, I thought that maybe he could be someone that I should take more seriously than a one night stand. At my door, he kissed me softly and told me that he wanted to take me out on a proper date. I told him that as long as he promised to not pick me up and say, "Are you a pirate? Because I want your booty," then yes, I'd love to go on a proper date.
Friday night he told me to meet him at the Belmont Harbor for our date. I showed up to find him standing there in front of this gorgeous boat with a bouquet of flowers. He reached out his hand and asked if I wanted to come aboard and have dinner. I have a weakness for a man in boat shoes, especially one who actually owns a boat to go with those shoes, so I was more than excited to get this party started! I climbed onboard and he had a table set up with a bottle of white wine and cheese and crackers. In all of the dating that I do, this one will go down as one of the all time best dates that I have ever had, and while sipping on my wine and admiring the Chicago skyline, I couldn't help but wonder how he was going to top this date on our next one.
He called me Sunday and asked me if I wanted to grab dinner at one of my favorite Chinese restaurants that has half priced martinis on Sunday nights, so naturally, I said that I'd love to. He showed up at my house with wine, and we hung out for a bit at my place before leaving for dinner, but something was off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but from the minute he walked into my place, he had this weird nervous jittery energy that he hadn't had the first two times that we had hung out. I smiled a little bit because I thought that maybe he was just nervous, but couldn't figure out why since it wasn't our first date. In the hour and change that we were hanging out at my house, he went to the bathroom five times and literally couldn't seem to sit still. I was getting annoyed with him and wanted to hurry this date along, so I swallowed the last drop of my wine and suggested we head out for dinner. We get to the restaurant and he excuses himself another three times during our meal to use the bathroom and then when the bill came, he reached into his pocket and realized that he had left his wallet at home.
Really? Really dude? Who goes on a date and doesn't check to see if he has his wallet? I had an ex boyfriend who every time we would leave the house, he would reflexively check to see if he had his keys and his wallet. This guy apparently doesn't do that. I had money on me, and could have absolutely paid the bill, but decided that I wasn't going to let him get away with this, so I looked at him and said, "I hope you know how to do dishes." He laughed and asked to speak to the manager and tried turning on his charm, which at this point was just a bunch of sweating and slurring, and was turned down flat by the manager, who then suggested that he leave me behind as collateral and run home to get his wallet and come back. Of course, I was not having that, so I ended up ponying up for the bill and we walked home in silence.
The next day I was telling this story to my friend Dave and he just started laughing at me (nothing out of the ordinary for him. He thinks I'm so naive). He told me that my date was probably doing cocaine in my bathroom, hence all of the bathroom trips and jittery, nervous energy, and that he had probably spent all of his cash on the cocaine before coming to my house and that is why he didn't have enough for dinner. I left there thinking Dave was crazy and that my date was just nervous with a small bladder.
The next day I was cleaning the apartment and found a white powdery substance on the back of my toilet. Sigh. Enough said.