It was a two-date and a lot of pizza kind of weekend. Friday night hosted the big date with the Hoff. Are big dates usually two hours? Yes, the date with the Hoff, 32, of Plymouth ended with "if I don't talk to you before Thanksgiving..." and an ass-out hug.
I think I've dated enough to know that he won't be meeting my parents. Despite being the ideal mate of the "good on paper" variety, the in-person effect was dry and unmoving. After trapsing around Royal Oak to find an open place, I could probably find more information about him lurking on his Facebook profile for 15 minutes, than over the two drink maximum we shared together. Fortunately, the waitress with a bad perm and pleated-front khakis offered more awkwardness than any lulls in our conversation. He did, however, discretely lick his teeth a few times...did I have lipstick on my teeth? Or maybe he left early because I wasn't capitalizing on his sexual innuendo?
This afternoon was spent, well, an hour and a half of it, with an engineer, 33, of West Bloomfield at the Franklin Cider Mill. The conversation flowed with ease, but more like straight guy with high school girlfriend turned lesbian. When he made eye contact his face looked very startled too. Is it my haunting good looks? Or the booger I neglected to check after my shower? Or his love for numbers? Or seeing his future children in my eyes? After my abrupt end to the date, of throwing my empty drink container in the trash, we got in our cars and drove away and out of each other's life.
This week may prove to be an interesting start to Thanksgiving. Drinks tomorrow, better check his name again, and possible dinner date with a ginger on Tuesday (I actually really, really love Strawberry Fields, so eager for that lad).
Was telling someone "wearing my wedding dress and drinking wine" last night via IM, when asked what I was doing, in bad taste? Thanks to GanMan for the idea.