Thursday, October 31, 2013

Dating Portlandia: The Good Kisser Guy



When I saw his picture online I thought, 'Yes. Please.'
He was a DOLL.
Big blue eyes, adorable smile, the kind of handsome that stepped off the pages of an American Eagle catalogue.
Only less douchery and more charm.
I was stoked to meet him.

He picked a place I'd never been to on Belmont. 
Circa 33.
It ended up being the kind of bar that's right up my alley.
Kind of chill environment but fancy enough to use the good dark cherries in an Old Fashioned.

(By the bye, that is the sign of a good bar: One that makes a damn good Old Fashioned. Try ordering one at a dive bar or a Mcmennamins? Absolute rubbish).

When I walked in, he was already there, with a drink nearly empty.
I sat down and was immediately attracted.
He was a little pretentious and arrogant (as I discovered he was also an actor--and what talented artist isn't at least a trifle narcissistic?)
But I honestly find it amusing when guys flaunt their raging egos on dates.
I know they're trying to impress me.
Which really just means they think I'm cute.

The date was going well enough, conversation flowing, along with the whiskey.
But I was having a hard time figuring out if he was into me or not.
Maybe it was my own nerves, because I found him so attractive, but I honestly thought maybe the night would end early.

"Come on, let's go to Aalto." 
He paid for our drinks and without even waiting for me to agree or not, headed towards the door.
We headed to Aalto Lounge (which is like three doors down from Circa 33).
I've actually had quite a few dates at Aalto over the years.
Although, I apparently hadn't been there in awhile because the decor had vastly changed.
It used to have the kind of bathroom that made you afraid to sit on the toilet but everything looked much more classy than I'd remembered.
There was modern art on the walls and obvious coats of fresh paint (though Aalto's notorious lack of lighting had remained in tact).
I was impressed.
With the swanky new Aalto, with the cool confidence of my date, with the fact that after just a few minutes of sitting next to each other he leaned in and kissed me.

I've only had a few first dates with moments like this.
Where the guy gives me a goodnight kiss in the middle of the date.
It takes the right kind of swagger, and an insane amount of chemistry.
But it's always awesome.

I blinked several times as he pulled back, smiling at me.
"You know. You're not my usual type."
'I'm not?' I played along.
"No. I usually go for girls that are like this big," He cupped his hands like he was holding an imaginary grapefruit. "And like, this tall," he held his hand about three feet above the ground.
'Pixies!' I said.
"Yeah. But you're a total fox."

I grinned.
And let him kiss me again.
Or rather, devour my mouth.

He had no idea but his little compliment fit snugly in this tiny hole in my heart.
Guy, the lost love of my life, had hooked up with a tiny little pixie months after our breakup.
It alway stung that his rebound was a girl ten years my junior, with a body type exactly the opposite of mine.

But this guy was telling me I was so irresistible I broke the mold for his usual pixie girls.
Pretty much the perfect thing for him to say.

He wanted me to come home with him (Gosh, isn't that sweet?) but being that I'm not a skeezy skank I politely declined.
We did however french beside my car long enough for me to wake up the next morning with a hickey on my neck.
(I didn't know guys still gave hickeys when you were in your thirties).

And it was the first date I'd been on all year, where I didn't feel this longing to see Guy.
I felt a longing to be kissed again. 
And no sooner had I crossed the bridge and gone from SE to SW than my phone rang.

It was the Good Kisser Guy.
'Hello?'
"Where are you?"
'I'm downtown. Why?'
"Already? I wanna see you."
'You just saw me,' I laughed.
Gee. I didn't just break the pixie mold, I was such a good kisser, he wanted more. 
After only five minutes of being apart.
My ego inflated and nearly derailed my car.

'Next time,' I cooed into the phone.
"I look forward to it."
I hung up and couldn't get rid of the stupid grin painted across my face the entire drive home.

 

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