It only took THREE dates.

My first date was with Sam. He was a sweetheart who drank morning coffee and walked with me at the park. When he mentioned being so fair-skinned that he was prone to getting burns, I noticed how sunny it was outside.

“I forgot to put on sun screen this morning,” he sighed.

“No worries,” I said. “We’ll just find a place in the shade.”

So we sat and talked about our jobs and school and hobbies. He’s getting his doctorate’s degree now (biochemistry) and his hobbies include building computers and tweaking with other kinds of technology. He shared that he’s got his something-or-other programmed to where, when he wakes up and says “good morning”, lights flicker on, the TV comes alive, and his coffee pot starts brewing. The most interesting thing he told me was about his childhood.

“We lived in Wisconsin, out in the country, and we had a really long driveway. We’d use chalk to draw roads on the driveway and then ride our scooters up and down these roads…” Pretty adorable.

 

We politely side-hugged goodbye and I knew that was the last time we’d see each other. He was sweet and interesting and beyond-smart, but despite the nature of his degree, there just wasn’t any chemistry between us.

***

The second date was lunch with Kevin. I sorta liked Kevin.

He liked to travel frequently (once a month), and his travel adventures included everything from kayaking + snorkeling in the ocean to camping out in the desert. He was a hockey player and jewelry store manager with big brown eyes and a toothy smile.

When we left the diner together, he hugged me and said he’d like to see me again. I agreed. He texted me ten minutes later: “So when are you free?”

We made plans to meet up at Birmingham’s Dia de Los Muertos festival this past Friday night, but I soon canceled with him and a few others (who I’d, as of this point, only made plans to meet up with). The next date explains why.

***

Captain Kangaroo (not his actual name) was just different. We’ll refer to him as CK.

When we introduced ourselves, he stuck out his hand. I shook it and said: “Wow — nice handshake! Very… powerful.” It was an awkward thing to say, and we both laughed. We laughed A LOT that evening.

He let me order and pay for my own food, which I liked; the two others had insisted on paying for mine, and it felt a little too old-school-chivalry for my liking. (I’ll add here that he did pay for my spinach pie during our second date and that this didn’t bother me at all, as he hadn’t appeared ultra-macho during our first date.)

Anyways, we took our food to-go and walked it over to Railroad Park, munching on falafel burritos while trains running parallel rolled along behind us.

We talked about the standard stuff (jobs, family, hobbies), walked in the dark for what felt like miles (he took his cardigan off and then put it back on like five times, ha), and then he led me to a cool spot where we were able to stand on one set of tracks while a train passed by on the other. Talk about powerful! The wind and sound were strong. He stood next to me – tall, dorky, handsome; tattooed, quiet, awkward – and I felt it.

 

Towards the end of the night, he asked if I’d watch a movie.

“Like… with you?” I asked, unsure of the question. He laughed.

We discussed the prospect of watching a movie together (what movie? where? what movies had he already seen, and what kind of movies did I like?) for about five minutes before I nodded my head at him. “Yes… I will watch a movie with you,” I said.

He laughed, seeming incredulous. “Wow. Good. I’m so glad.”

On my third date with CK (three dates in three days — I’m cautiously hoping that he’s just as crazy about me as I am about him!), we discussed our expectations of the relationship. Happily, it turns out that we we’re both down to date exclusively. He even casually mentioned taking me to his mom’s 10-foot-tall Christmas tree later on this year if I’m “still putting up with him.” I tried very hard to hide how happy his passing comment had made me.

He’s snarky and cynical and intelligent and funny and he works as a librarian and record store tradesman and he plays the freakin guitar. He’s pretty much perfect, and I’m trying to NOT fall head-over-heels in love with the guy. Key word: trying. 

And I’m scared, of course. So in my mind, we’re already broken, like the old cup. We’ve already said goodbye, and he’s already left… so there’s nothing to do, really, but enjoy every single magical second with him.

***

Without a millisecond of hesitation, I deleted the dating app yesterday evening. A few fun facts + one piece of advice:

  • It took less than a week for me to find my guy (using a dating app). And while his bio was spot on (cute, relatable, and intriguing), it was actually a picture that inspired me to reach out to him — one of him holding a furry animal in his arms. “Cute deer!” I messaged, beginning the conversation. “That’s no deer… that’s a baby kangaroo,” he replied. Awwwww… FUCK, I thought, thinking he’d probably un-match us right away. But he didn’t. And then two nights ago, when he couldn’t remember the word “charisma” during a conversation, I was able to supply it for him, so it seems we’ve evened it all out now. (Sidebar: Is “Captain Kangaroo” making more sense now?)
  • After canceling date numero dos w/the other guy (Kevin), I still ended up going to Dia de Los Muertos. I meandered around by myself for a while (perusing the market and observing people) and then met up with a close friend of mine. I’d already known what I was ready to do before the event had started, so when we reached the public altars, I paused to pull out an old wedding ring and set it down. My girl friend hugged me and held my hand while I cried, and finally, I said to her: “The last three years have been so hard. But I’m actually okay now. And I’m so happy.”
  • If you’re like I was until one literal week ago (lonely but vehemently against the idea of “resorting” to online dating), PLEASE give Bumble (or another one of those apps) a shot. It’s not a “loser” kinda thing to do… it’s just how people meet these days. And I’m so grateful to have found such a kindred spirit — I love his voice, and his gray-blue eyes, and his guitar hands, and his good heart…

Like, I mean. I LIKE his voice, and his eyes, and his hands, and his heart… 

 

Still here (NOT already planning an outdoor fall wedding w/falafel burritos and black cats and German Shepherds and friends with guitars… I promise),

Aun Aqui

3 thoughts on “It only took THREE dates.

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