Ok, so I'm just going to get it out there for you to judge me. I went on a date on Friday. Yes, that's right. I moved to New York a little over a week ago, I have yet to acquire a job, but I did manage to get a date for Friday night. Are you wondering if I can go five minutes without there being a boy in the mix? Yeah? Me too. But then I remembered that the answer is "no" and stopped wondering and went back to judging myself. Glad we're all on the same page now.
Right, so... I went on a date on Friday with Mia and Grant's friend Gabriel (none of those names are real, I'm just trying to preserve continuity between my blog and Mia's blog) who I had met when I was visiting back in January, that went surprisingly well considering first dates apparently make me just go ahead and get all the crazy and awkward out at once. I mean, I guess it's really not surprising that I have no idea how to behave seeing as I've now been on a grand total of three actual adult first dates.
Oddly, I wasn't actually that nervous beforehand. I did try on half my wardrobe but that's because my box of shoes hasn't come yet and I kept putting things on and not having shoes that worked or you know, was just being a girl and suddenly decided all the clothes I own were horrible and unflattering. I finally settle on an outfit without a minute to spare because Gabriel (for the record, that is not the name I would've chosen, and I'm kind of having a hard time with it for some reason) was right on time. So I go and let him in and we have awkward greeting time in the foyer then we (awkwardly) go upstairs and I put on my shoes and grab my scarf and all that and go to say good bye (and hello, in his case) to Mia and Grant in the living room which results in us, or maybe just me, acting like a gawky fifteen year old before homecoming saying good night and don't wait up to mom and dad.
Two blocks away from the apartment and I realize I've been pretty much talking non stop. And no, I have no idea about what anymore but I do distinctly remember thinking "Oh my god, why are you still talking? You sound like a crazy person. Or really self centered. Or both. Just stop". So I decide to take a breath or five but he doesn't really say anything and now the voice in my head is all "Fuck, I've made it two blocks and I've already messed this up, how can I save this?". So, you know, I just KEEP TALKING. Why? I don't know. This somehow leads to my mentioning being raised by my grandparents and him asking if I'm close to them and me actually becoming more awkward because my family relationships are just too weird and confusing to be first date material and I was kind of trying to avoid seeming crazier. Despite all this, Gabriel does actually seem to still be interested in me. God knows why.
After getting slightly turned around and a google maps consultation we make it to the restaurant (that's right, we haven't even made it to dinner yet in this story). Even though it's only 6:30 the place is packed. We walk around searching for a table and manage to find what appear to be the last two stools in the place at this weird little side bar thingy that is poorly secured to the wall but thankfully seems well secured to the ceiling however moves every time I rest any weight on it. Also, because we're on stools, my feet dangle and I feel like a five year old. We get menus and order beers and because we're both apparently the most awkward confused people ever we let the waitress take our menus without any objection despite the fact that we haven't ordered food. Or maybe it was because we were hoping an actual table would open up and then we could order food. See? I'm still confused about what I was thinking.
So we get our beer, fumble the conversation along, eventually with a lot less pauses, and flag down our constantly disappearing waitress so that we can get a menu and order food (and more beer) to eat at our weird little side bar that doesn't seem big enough to hold plates. We actually order the same thing which I assume means we're soul mates or, that cheeseburgers are fucking delicious. I'm not sure which, but seeing as we ordered different beers, I'm going with the second option. I'd like to say I remember what we talked about, but the whole time I was distracted by these candles that were arranged in sort of cubbies (not really but this is the easiest way to explain it) in the wall in front of us in an almost but not quite symmetrical pattern. I do remember that, because I know how sexy OCD is, I explained to him that the candles were bothering me and that I compulsively moved them. And he totally went with it, which earned him +5 charisma or something or maybe means that my charisma is so awesome I can get away with doing ridiculous things (spending a lot of time by myself sure does bring out the nerdiness).
So we ate and talked and drank (though not too much on the drinking since the first time we met was the night of the four people, three six packs and a liter of gin and I wanted to know what he was like and how we got along somewhat sober) and things went along fairly well. Of course at some point the conversation did get back to my family and I did talk about it less awkwardly though I still feel like maybe not the best first date material. I mean mentioning being a child of addicts kind of is like handing out a business card that says "Alana Margaret, expert on abandonment, trust and codependency issues" but hey, at least it's giving fair warning, right? Umm, yeah. Note to self: just stick to talking about things like books or booze or anything other than family on a first date.
(Hi family! I really do love you.)
Things actually do go well and we end up holding hands and it's cute. We walk back to the apartment and he stops and kisses me on the way. The next day (look, he lives in New Jersey, he was spending the night whether or not the date went well, just maybe on the couch) I come home from my stage (free labor) to my clothes that had been left on the floor neatly folded on my bed which I basically thought was the most adorable thing ever. I think he thought I was making fun of him, but I really did think it was ridiculously cute in the best of ways.
Our next date is on Friday.
Also he said he liked the ballet, that Jane Austen was great and we talked about War & Peace and other Russian literature. I'm pretty sure that he had to have been exaggerating his interest in some of those things because that's just too many things that I like that nobody else likes (except Jane Austen, pretty much everyone [female] loves Jane Austen). Either way, I'm totally a sucker for awkward, sweet, nerdy boys who show up for dates wearing a tie and converse. (Hmmm, explanation for why I like Dr. Who so much?) There's some serious like going on right now.
Oh yeah, those flowers you've been seeing in pictures? Those were my housewarming/coincidence this is Valentine's flowers from him. Cute, right?