Mr. Reserved

December 26th, 2009

This guy happened to be one that intrigued me and I email-pursued. Turns out we went to the same college at the same time, although I couldn't say I ever saw him before in my life. His profile name was somewhat offensive, but I guess that's never stopped me before. Perhaps it even made me like him more? I know, I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with me too. Anyway, plans were made for a date at the same watering hole that I met Mr. Gentleman and Mr. Got No Game (I'm seriously going to have to move soon).

He seemed to take himself pretty seriously on his profile which is usually a bad sign. However, a couple of days of flirting via text prior to the big meet amped up my nerves for sure (I've been watching Valley Girl over and over) and I decided he was extremely witty, very funny, and at least somewhat of a talented entertainment industry so-and-so.

First Impression: Whatever. Wait, something was interesting about his face. It looked a little swollen, but his ears stuck out in a charming way - very Clark Gable. In fact, he looked very much like a young Clark Gable! Okay, now I was interested. Tall, dark hair, slow moving.

You would think by now I would have learned my lesson about first dates + alcohol + nerves. Nope, not a wit. I dressed up adorably (as is my custom) and ordered my gin and tonic while he got whiskey. Okay, side note: Is it just me or is whiskey the new black? Is it trendy with hipsters or something? Why does practically every guy I go out with order this? Whatever. He keeps mentioning how he never really drinks which, frankly, just makes me uncomfortable. Conversation is going well and he moved his face into expressions with a slow, movie star way. I become more entranced as my glass empties.

We order another round. I tell him how I just moved out of a house where a big-name porn star now lives (not sure why I said this, oh, right, gin). I mention the name and his face lights up. He knows the girl. Not in real life, of course. Through her films. I ignore this unpleasantry and twirl my hair. I decide I'll let him kiss me. Then things take a turn for the worst (don't they always?). I become drunk. I mean, plastered. Two drinks. TWO DRINKS!!! I take this as a lesson which will now result in me stuffing a loaf of bread in my vintage purse before any outing. While I am very intoxicated, I am not unaware of the extreme embarrassment that this causes. He is ready to leave and for some reason I pay the $30 tab (huh?!). I tell him I need to hang out since I can't drive yet. We wait through 5 glasses of water and still the room is spinning. He finally offers to drive me home, but we have to move my car first (humiliation, you are my sister). He drops me off and does NOT kiss me. I was upset about this, but I wouldn't kiss me with that much alcohol mixed in the situation. I wake up super early to make the two mile trek to find my car. Yeah...

Date #11: Embarrassing for everyone.