I absolutely did NOT want to go on a date tonight. I had a wildly fun, boozy night last night at karaoke with my best friend (let's call her... Delia) and her BF and another friend... which meant that I woke up at the ungodly hour of 6 am this morning and could NOT get back to sleep. That's my hangover curse... I'm forced to wake up and deal with my alcohol-fueled actions.
I was exhausted and cranky and felt bloated and fat and hadn't washed my hair in two days... but I knew it was too late to cancel. That would be bad form... I HATE when people do rude things like that. Like last weekend, when Mr. FOF (Friend of a Friend) e-mailed me the day before our date to say that he was going to have to cancel because "I'm not feeling super-motivated to date right now". Yes, he probably did me a favor... but still. At least have the balls to CALL me, not write that in an e-mail.
So -- I met Blue Eyes at a local tapas bar, after I got as buffed and prettied as I possibly could -- all black, very slimming. In one of those very rare instances, he actually looked BETTER in person than in his photo. While he's slightly outside my usual dating range (he's 7 years older than I am... I usually cap it at about 3, 4 years older)... he looked really good for his age.
We chatted for about an hour and a half... no huge revelations, but we were never at a loss for words. As we wrapped up, I considered asking if he'd like to go out early next week, before I go out of town for a week. But I held back... I wasn't getting much of a vibe from him.
And I sensed that, as he hailed a taxi, it seemed that he was doing the delicate "I'm-going-to-say-goodnight-WITHOUT-implying-that-I'm-going-to-see-you-ever-again" dance. Quite a complicated choreography! Like the tango... it looks simple, but it's hard as hell.
So we'll see... as Delia and I always, always say... you never fricking know...