Last Friday I went on a date. Like a real date, with someone I'd actually met in person. So, this is a good thing, right? I'm wondering why I was filled with such dread. Little things kept coming up during the day that made me want to cancel. A fight with S on the phone. The oppressive heat. Too much work. The sneaking suspicion that I'd rather be at home in bed watching episode after episode of Mad Men.
But then S and I made up, I bought a new outfit after frantically texting and emailing everyone I knew for wardrobe advice, and I went on the date. It was fun. Not earth-shattering, but fun. He took me sailing in Boston Harbor. Being incompetent at sailing, I got to just sit around and make sure that I didn't get knocked out by the mast. We sailed by the ICA and Legal Harborside. I saw a part of the city that I love from a completely different view. After the sail we went to dinner. It was one of those places that you're sure will suck (too eclectic a menu and a bar filled with college kids and televisions), but it doesn't matter because you're sitting on a deck by the water. The food was surprisingly good. I got "drunken shrimp and lobster saute," and the shellfish actually tasted fresh. And while the recommended drink sounded dreadful and was served in a plastic cup, it was delicious and did its job to take the edge off.
Then we went back to his very cool place with a pool. And we made out. And that was as far as I wanted to go, which didn't please him, but I didn't care. He's not a bad kisser but not a great one either. He has this amazing, possibly sexy, New Zealand accent, but he mumbles, so while I love the lilt, I have no idea what he's saying half the time. It was pleasant, but we didn't really laugh. He likes good food, but doesn't read fiction. He's smart, financially secure, and available, but is that enough? Like Carrie Bradshaw would say "is a relationship a relationship without the zsa zsa zu?" That feeling of excitement and butterflies is missing in this case.
In a group of women I was with last week, I mentioned some glaring typos in one of his text messages (that couldn't even be explained away with the plague of the iPhone auto-correct). One woman looked me in the eye and said a little too definitively: You are going to end up alone.
Perhaps I will. I think I'd like to date some more, but I'm not wedded to the idea. I like a life of easy laughter and I'm just not seeing it with this guy. One of the best times I've had all summer was with a different (more supportive) group of women, six of us eating and drinking on my deck and laughing for hours. This is what I served: