My date with Robby wasn't bad but it wasn't good, it just... was. He told me ahead of time that the restaurant was near his place so we'd just walk from his house. I opted to wear heels despite the scary word, "walk" so I wore my most comfortable boots possible. Little did I know this trek would be a twenty minute walk up and down the steep hills of San Francisco. Mistake. Walking uphill had me panting trying to keep up to my sneaker-clad date. Even though it was cold and windy and my hands and legs were freezing, I was sweating inside my coat. Walking downhill wasn't any better. It made me nervous. The steep decline plus my heels had me leaning forward too much for comfort and I had visions of somersaulting down the hill. "Don't fall, don't fall" was on repeat in my head as I skillfully placed one foot in front of the other while successfully remaining upright. Apparently Robby was thinking the same thing because when we arrived he smiled and said he was surprised I didn't fall. Frankly, I was too. That deserves a drink!
We sat down to dinner and were talking. The conversation wasn't great, it wasn't bad, just okay. However a few key things during dinner stood out in my mind. At one point Robby looked down at his hands, lifted one to his mouth with his palm down, pursed his lips and blew on the back of his hand before placing it back in his lap. Like he was blowing a kiss except his hand was upside down. I don't know how else to say this, but whatever he was doing looked a little.... gay. And since I'm 97% sure that I was a beard for an ex-boyfriend, I'm on high gay red alert.
"What was that?" I asked kind of confused.
"Oh, I had some lint on my hand and I was getting it off," he smiled.
Let me fast forward to the next day if you will. I go to my family's house, they ask me how the date was and the first thing I say to them is- If you had some lint on your hand and you wanted to get it off, what would you do? I sat there as I watched my dad brush off the imaginary lint, my mom pinch the imaginary lint and throw it on the floor, and my sister pinch it with her pinky in the air. I then held up my hand and softly blew the imaginary lint away.
My sister: WHAT?! And I thought the way I did it was gay!
My sister: WHAT?! And I thought the way I did it was gay!
Thank you!!!
Okay, back to dinner. So asked me about my job, where I work, and where I lived and apparently he doesn't recognize the city, which is 25 minutes away. I'm thinking he should know where it is, but whatever, so I give him two neighboring cities followed by "it's on the peninsula." He seems satisfied with my answer. Except then he asks me if I have to take the Bay Bridge to get to work.
"What? No. I live on the peninsula and I work on the peninsula," I repeat.
"Oh, that's right," he corrects, "You probably take the San Mateo bridge."
WHAT?! That's the East Bay. I don't take any bridges to get to work, I just take the freeway. 101. Now I'm worried. I'm worried this guy is stupid. Gay and stupid.
"I'm sorry, I don't really leave the city unless I'm going to San Jose, Palo Alto, or the East Bay. You're in the East Bay right?"
You have got to be kidding me. No. I don't live in the East Bay. I live on the peninsula. And you drive through my city every time you head to Palo Alto and San Jose. I feel like I need to give this guy a lesson in Bay Area geography since he hasn't lived here that long but then I remember one interesting tidbit. He has.
"Haven't you lived here for like... 7 years?" I ask with some concern in my voice.
"No, I haven't lived here for that long. Actually.... (waits while he does some math in his head) Wow, I guess it's been like 7 or 9 years!" Robby, How can you live here for almost a decade and not know your neighboring cities? It boggles the mind. I get that maybe my town is small and people might not know exactly where it is but I gave you two other cities as reference points and you're still confused?
Overall, dinner was fine. The conversation was fine, he seemed like a perfectly nice guy, he was pleasant, he had his shit together, he knew where his life was going and what he wants. All attractive qualities- even if he might be a little lacking in masculinity and Bay Area geography. After dinner we walked over to get some ice cream and then hiked back to his house where he invited me in to watch TV. As I'm sitting there he crawls up to me on ALL FOURS on the couch with his face next to mine and in this baby voice he says, "You're so preeeetttttyyyyy."
What. The. Hell. Is. Happening.
I nervously smile. Thank you. He collapses onto the couch with his head in my lap looking up at me with this big grin. Now I'm wondering if I'm on a date with a girl or a cat. Robby gets up and walks to his bedroom and brings back a pillow for my lap, you know, for his head. Still not knowing what to make of this situation, I remain fixated on the TV in front of me as he reaches up to play with my hair and repeats, "You're so pretty. You have such a nice smile. Your hair is so pretty." Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
He gets back up again and moves in for a kiss. At this point I couldn't care less about kissing him. I'm still thinking about the lint on his hand, his head on my lap, and "you're so silly! You're so pretty!" and I'm not seeing him as someone I'd really like to kiss. But I kiss him anyway. Heck, sometimes a mediocre date can turn into a great date if the guy is a great kisser! It can make an "eh" guy seem wonderful. So I give Robby a shot. Nope, a mediocre kiss. I'm not impressed. But as he's kissing me, I can, uh, feel he's excited... so there goes my gay theory. But explain the lint thing!!!!
I drive back home that night not really sure what to make of the date. Yeah, some weird things happened, but he was an alright guy. First dates can be awkward. Maybe he was nervous, so when he asked me out again, I said yes. Firmly on the fence, I was hoping the second date would push me over one way or the other.
His plan for a second date was a trip to the wine country. Maybe we could stay the night, he said. I wasn't exactly fond of that but it didn't matter because as the day approached it got downgraded to a day trip. Then to dinner and a movie. And lastly to dinner. On the day of our date, at the time he was supposed to have picked me up, he called me and asked if I'd like to drive to his place instead and we could cook dinner and watch TV. Well I was expecting dinner right now, so I was starving and not in the mood to drive 30 minutes to see him, then spend another 30 minutes cooking. So No. I would not like to drive up and cook for you. How about you drive to my house and we get a pizza and rent a movie. Sounds great, he says, he'll be right over.
He came over and the moment he walked in the door I'm disappointed. He was wearing moccasins, cargo shorts, and a ratty SF Giants sweatshirt. Man, at least dress like you care about this date. I don't even care about this date and I tried to look adorable. Shouldn't he be trying to impress me? Whatever. I gave him options for pizza places nearby and he chose one. As he drove us there he was glued to his phone, sending emails and texts. He apologized, it was work-related. Work had been busy and he was trying to take care of some things. Fine, but that phone better be gone by the time we get to dinner.
Nope, we were at the table with our menus and the phone was still in his hands. In fact he wasn't even talking to me. He was just sending a series of emails and texts. Bored, I broke out my phone and checked Facebook and texted my sister. You know it's bad when you're texting shit about a date while you're on a date.
Our pizza arrived and he was still on the phone. I started eating and he occasionally took a bite. I asked about the pizza. "Oh, I just remembered, I don't like this pizza place," he says. Uh, you chose it....
As I gave him directions back to my place, he kept missing the turns, because he was too busy texting while driving. As he parked he turned to me and apologized saying work had been really busy.
"Well do you need to go?" I ask.
"Yeah, I probably should," he said. He gave me a hug and then he drove away. What a complete waste of time. I would have had a better time doing anything else. Eating alone? Eating with my family? Cutting my toenails? Anything!
To my surprise he texted me the next day and asked if I was angry. "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed that I wasted my time," I explained. "If you were too busy to hang out, then you should have told me you were too busy, and rescheduled. 'I'm sorry, Alicia, but I'm slammed with work. Did you want to have dinner next Tuesday instead?' That would have been better than ignoring me the entire date while you stared at your phone."
"You're right, but I really wanted to see you! Let me make it up to you, I promise I'll do better. We had a good time the first date. I'm a great guy and I think you're an amazing girl and I want to make up for last night!" he begged.
"Our first date was just okay. The second date was a make-or-break thing for me and obviously we know how that turned out. I have no interest in going on a third date." I firmly stated.
"Really?? Just okay? I'm sorry, I know I messed up but it's not my fault!" he said.
"Was it my fault?" I questioned.
"No," he says.
"Well if it wasn't my fault, then it has to be your fault. If you were too busy to hang out, then you shouldn't have hung out with me. That is your fault. It's not work's fault, it was your fault for ignoring me. If the situation was reversed, you wouldn't want to go out with me either."
"That's not true. If the situation was reversed, I'd try to be understanding that life sometimes gets busy and that you must have had a lot on your plate," he insisted.
"What?! No you wouldn't. You'd be pissed that I ignored you and pissed that I showed up to the date dressed like I didn't give a shit. You looked like you didn't care about me and you acted like you didn't care about me and I don't need a third date to give you a second chance, this was a second chance and I'm not interested."
Just like the lint on your hand Robby, you blew it.
