In my first act of dating desperation, two glasses of wine gave me the confidence I needed to leave my email address, unsolicited, with my bartender one July evening.
He contacted me shortly thereafter. And by that, I mean that seven weeks later I received an email from a man who I hadn't given much thought to for the previous, oh, six weeks and six days.
He was very apologetic for the late reply. He had been busy, something about a minor bike accident, blah blah blah. But he would now like to buy me a drink or meal, and was I interested?
We met up that night, and immediately I had the sinking feeling familiar to so many first daters- that my date was significantly less interesting without two glasses of wine in my system. Thankfully we were going to a bar, and I was more than excited to remedy the situation.
Since he was a bartender living on Capitol Hill, by default he was also in a band.
"What music do you listen to?," he asked.
It's a first date litmus test, and the correct answer in Seattle is KEXP.
I replied "Um, basically Top 40. Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Black Eyed Peas..."
His response? "Oh don't worry, we'll change that."
Right. Because what I want out of a first date is for a man to change the music I listen to and use the pronoun "we."
Sometimes alcohol brings surprising clarity to a situation. Two is my magic number, and after exactly two pints of beer I had a revelation:
"Did you wait seven weeks to contact me because you had a girlfriend?!?"
His hesitation in responding answered the question. "Well, isn't it better that I waited to contact you until I didn't have a girlfriend?"
Yes, I think it is great that you hid my number from a woman you were sleeping with for seven weeks, and then once you were done sleeping with her you moved on to me as your backup option. That is definitely better.
Next!
He contacted me shortly thereafter. And by that, I mean that seven weeks later I received an email from a man who I hadn't given much thought to for the previous, oh, six weeks and six days.
He was very apologetic for the late reply. He had been busy, something about a minor bike accident, blah blah blah. But he would now like to buy me a drink or meal, and was I interested?
We met up that night, and immediately I had the sinking feeling familiar to so many first daters- that my date was significantly less interesting without two glasses of wine in my system. Thankfully we were going to a bar, and I was more than excited to remedy the situation.
Since he was a bartender living on Capitol Hill, by default he was also in a band.
"What music do you listen to?," he asked.
It's a first date litmus test, and the correct answer in Seattle is KEXP.
I replied "Um, basically Top 40. Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Black Eyed Peas..."
His response? "Oh don't worry, we'll change that."
Right. Because what I want out of a first date is for a man to change the music I listen to and use the pronoun "we."
Sometimes alcohol brings surprising clarity to a situation. Two is my magic number, and after exactly two pints of beer I had a revelation:
"Did you wait seven weeks to contact me because you had a girlfriend?!?"
His hesitation in responding answered the question. "Well, isn't it better that I waited to contact you until I didn't have a girlfriend?"
Yes, I think it is great that you hid my number from a woman you were sleeping with for seven weeks, and then once you were done sleeping with her you moved on to me as your backup option. That is definitely better.
Next!
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