I was kind of drunk so I don't really remember what I said for him to agree with. But maybe I didn't say anything specific. Maybe it was just my tone he heard. It's hard to find someone who understands you. Especially when you have no idea what you want anymore.
I went out with him twice.
The Nice Guy.
Who I curiously enough would have dubbed The Pervert after our first date but first impressions aren't always very accurate.
My last boyfriend I first thought was queer.
Turned out instead to be the best lover I'd ever had.
Jokes on me.
Repeatedly.
The first time The Nice Guy and I met up was at Goldust Meridian. The bar has a casual vibe but it's dark and kinda sexy too. I think that's why I like it. If the date goes well, it helps set the tone. But if the dates a dud it's easy to think of it as just another Southeast hipster bar. It boasts 10 different champagne cocktails. One, Death in the Afternoon. Champagne and Absinthe. Which always hits me hard. I've had several dates where Death in the Afternoon played a part. But I didn't order one that night. I drank Old Fashions instead. I was feeling understatedly classy.
He was tall and lanky. Dressed in a button down shirt with a vest. I love it when guys dress up. Vests and suspenders and ties. It all just makes me lose my freaking mind.
We shared a couple appetizers. I always feel a date is good when you're already sharing your food and your cocktails. It's like admitting you're comfortable with their mouth being in the same vicinity as yours without openly admitting you've already thought of each other naked. He was fun and made me laugh. It wasn't one of those awkward first dates where you keep looking toward the door every time someone walks into the bar just so you can have someone else to look at.
But he did seem to have problems looking only at me. He had a bit of a wandering eye. No, let me rephrase. It seemed every pair of tits that walked by our table he had to check out. At first it was sort of funny because I thought, man you're not even being subtle. But then it just got kind of annoying. I go on dates all the time and no other guy I've gone out with has had such a hard time keeping his attention on me. Have you seen my ta ta's?
He paid and with the exception of his boob radar I had a decent time, so I decided if he asked me out again I'd go.
And he did.
So I went.
I planned on calling him out on his blatant douchery should it persist a second time. I'd be playful about it. Like, hey buddy, let's at least check 'em out together. What do we think of her over there? My thing is, I hate being ignored. So if I'm at least included in your undesirable characteristics, it will at least entertain me. And dating is all about being pleased, is it not?
The thing of it was, though, he wasn't oggling anyone the second time around. He was actually really sweet and attentive. I was running late and he asked if he could order me something. And when he noticed my first drink was empty and our waitress was nowhere to be found, he went to the bar to get me another cocktail. He listened intently while I talked and at some point in the middle of some story I was telling, he softly said, "You are so beautiful." When I got back from the restroom he'd already paid the tab and feeling so overwhelmingly wrong about my first impression of him (and feeling the warm embrace of the bourbon I'd been drinking) I shared my mistaken view of him thinking we'd have ourselves a good chuckle over it.
But he just sat there. Blinking at me. He looked wounded. And I felt like I'd kicked a puppy. Eventually he quietly mumbled, "I don't want to feel like I can't ever look at anyone."
I was ready to leave and felt I'd shifted the energy of our date so I just changed the subject and said we should head out. He walked me to my car (all 12 feet across the street) and leaned in to give me a very unexciting goodnight kiss. It was the kind of lackluster kiss you'd expect a highschool actor to give the class virgin in the spring musical. Only in my play there was no orchestra accompanying us. Only the sound of my own thoughts convincing me I should let him kiss me since he'd been so nice.
I didn't hear from him again. Maybe he knew when I kissed him, I really didn't mean it.
Maybe he didn't hear an orchestra accompanying our kiss either.
But I did realize at least one thing I know I want that night.
I want the kind of goodnight kiss that makes my vision blurry.
It's out there.
I felt it just the other night.
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