It’s a fine line between trying not to be so uptight and being a sucker. I tried the first and winced only slightly when the New Yorker waited until 4:00 pm the day of our date to discuss the venue and a specific time. I focused on keeping my attitude light as I drove halfway to meet him.
I smiled a big smile and shook his hand while he took it and did the Jersey cheek-kiss thing.
He wasn’t as bad as I thought he would be. The accent wasn’t so strong, after all, and he seemed to have a nice personality. I think he was a little nervous.
He was in very good shape, or so it seemed from the outside of his clothes. But he had posted shirtless photos on the website (which is really a turnoff for me), so I was expecting a good vain physique. He wore casual jeans and a white shirt of good-quality material. I didn’t look at his shoes. Usually I do.
He seemed kinda short – a small-framed man. I can’t remember the height he listed in his profile, but think he may have stretched it. I was hoping for a taller guy. His head seemed a little too small for his body, but his teeth were absolutely gorgeous, which I noticed as the evening wore on and he let a smile escape now and then.
He didn’t invite me to dinner and made it clear he wasn’t eating after the waitress brought menus. I thought that was rude, but I had already eaten since the invitation was vague.
He spoke a little too much about his former wives, and not in a kind way. I can provide hours of entertainment with my Mr. N/A stories, but it doesn’t seem appropriate for a first date, so I try to avoid that subject. I am honest, when asked, and tell people we don’t get along very well and I have limited communication with him.
He grew on me just a little over the two-hour drink, and I would probably go out with him again if he asked, but I would expect him to try a little harder to impress me then. I didn’t feel any sort of stirring in my loins or walk away with a fast-beating heart.