Diary of dating from a beautiful single woman dating etiquette avoiding first kiss
This one is for the books: She says she had a great time but next time “no splitting the bill! Mind you, I don’t even remember splitting the bill. I admire the balls on her, and by balls I mean honesty.
And if we did split, I am almost positive it’s because she insisted.
(Also, I’m scared I have a booger in my nose.) p.m.: No booger. p.m.: I realize I have been in the bathroom for far too long, and there is no way my date won’t think I am pooping. p.m.: I discover that my date has ordered cocktail number 3. p.m.: I consider telling him I wasn’t pooping in the bathroom. p.m.: Eventually, I decide not to.
I order cocktail number 4 instead. p.m.: I’m officially (slightly) intoxicated. p.m.: Maybe he isn’t so bad. p.m.: We leave the loud bar for a louder bar (introvert’s number-one nightmare). p.m.: My date is touching my leg in a way that feels like foreshadowing. p.m.: My date drinks another cocktail while I tear a napkin into little shredded bits, because this is a weird hamster-like habit of mine. p.m.: I don’t know what has happened.
When I look at my phone again Paula’s texted back twice. I text Paula to ask when I can take her out to dinner. She says that’s cool of me to offer but that she’d prefer some kid-free time and can meet up two nights from now.
But being unemployed makes me feel so bad about myself, at least this can transition me out of that.
I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in almost five years, not since I was 35. Then she kind of shut down and hopped on the subway.
She broke up with a serious boyfriend about two months ago. The only thing was that she got weird when we were kissing after the date at another “romantic” bar (more tea! I asked if she wanted to come back to my place and she seemed offended by that, or offended by something.
Today is an introduction to everyone and everything.
Lately I’m feeling great and ready to find a new job, possibly a girlfriend.
As in, quitting drinking, quitting fucking (as much as I’d been), quitting treating myself like shit. Some light flirtatious texting with tonight’s date, Melissa. She could Google me and find out a lot about me, and I’m sure she has. Well, unfortunately for me and my romantic life, someone wrote about my failed restaurant and my drinking problem, calling me “a mean drunk.” I can’t get it off the internet so I just have to live with it. Anyway, I met Melissa at a yoga class in Williamsburg.
I went to Cornell for this stuff but that doesn’t help much — and my lousy attitude doesn’t help at all.
It’s managing my grumpy attitude that I struggle with. We talk a lot about my upbringing — which was pretty good, actually. ” I ask: “Would you rather blow Trump or get eaten out by Pence?