Bathroom Dating
It really is not cliche. Men that are so-so looking possess infinite more chutzpah than the well above average Joe. Case in point:
A few years ago I had a blind date with Craig. Craig was a fix-up from a mutual friend, and came highly recommended. Of course there were a few possible precautions ("He might have gone full gray since the last time I saw him." "I don't think he is much of a player anymore.") Regardless, I heeded Steph's advice and met Craig for drinks.
Craig was cute. Craig was funny. But Craig and I didn't have that dynamic spark. However, about an hour into the date, I had to go to the bathroom. Legitimately; not to plan an escape call. But then it happened: As I was entering the "joint" restroom, I was slipped a piece of paper from Mystery Man. Ooooh, how exciting. Who was this ok-looking but intriguing man that slid a folded possibility in my hand? Was he giving me a lottery ticket? A bill? Maybe he found a new way to continue on chain letters!
Mystery Man had given me his number, with a note attached: "You don't look like you're having a good time on your date. Give me a call. 555-1234" (don't think he gave a cell.)
This was a first. I had NEVER been asked out while on a date with someone else. I felt like a woman in demand. I was happening. I gave Mystery Man a chance.
As with every story, this one lacks the happy ending. I went out with Mystery Man a few times, but then he creeped me out by stalking me in Miami when we were both there at the same time. And he was an awful drunk. But what a story.
A few years ago I had a blind date with Craig. Craig was a fix-up from a mutual friend, and came highly recommended. Of course there were a few possible precautions ("He might have gone full gray since the last time I saw him." "I don't think he is much of a player anymore.") Regardless, I heeded Steph's advice and met Craig for drinks.
Craig was cute. Craig was funny. But Craig and I didn't have that dynamic spark. However, about an hour into the date, I had to go to the bathroom. Legitimately; not to plan an escape call. But then it happened: As I was entering the "joint" restroom, I was slipped a piece of paper from Mystery Man. Ooooh, how exciting. Who was this ok-looking but intriguing man that slid a folded possibility in my hand? Was he giving me a lottery ticket? A bill? Maybe he found a new way to continue on chain letters!
Mystery Man had given me his number, with a note attached: "You don't look like you're having a good time on your date. Give me a call. 555-1234" (don't think he gave a cell.)
This was a first. I had NEVER been asked out while on a date with someone else. I felt like a woman in demand. I was happening. I gave Mystery Man a chance.
As with every story, this one lacks the happy ending. I went out with Mystery Man a few times, but then he creeped me out by stalking me in Miami when we were both there at the same time. And he was an awful drunk. But what a story.
posted by Does Debbie @ 7:19 PM
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