Roar.
Right now my head is spinning because I completely didn't see the last 15 minutes prior to my writing this post coming. I was all set to blog about tonight's date, my foray into being a cougar, when J3 texted and gave me whiplash.
I'm still trying to figure out J3. It wasn't that the date was bad, and it wasn't that it was amazing. In striving for something a little off the normal first date list, we decided to meet up at Dave and Busters. Maybe that wasn't the best decision after all.
Problem #1 is that on a Sunday night, the only restaurant seating was basically in the bar area, surrounded by roughly a gazillion TVs, all set to sports channels. J3 is a big sports fan.
Dinner was fine, the conversation average. He did warn me that he often starts off shy or reserved, and it wasn't that there were awkward lulls or missteps by either of us. Safe, I suppose, is the best word to describe it. I did get an ego boost when we were both carded -- even when the fantastically gay waiter gave me a sort of knowing look upon seeing my ID after J3's ID. After dinner we wandered into the arcade area, looking for a couple of specific games. First, there was some bowling thing he'd done before, but apparently that game is no longer there. Secondly, we'd talked about air hockey -- we're both competitive people -- but it turned out the air hockey table wasn't working. So we played some Rambo video game (I beat him), we did some car game where our race ended up not being linked (I crashed into every conceivable thing and probably killed a dozen spectators), played a game of Skeeball (when one person is left handed and the other right, that should be taken into consideration when choosing lanes), and I watched him shoot some baskets (he actually did really well).
Then, we went to more of my comfort zone: billiards. Which, in the spirit of equality, I paid for. We shot 4 games, and I lost all 4... but 3 due to my mistakes and not because he actually won. The first and third games I lost by scratching while trying to sink the 8 ball; the second game I lost because I called the wrong pocket on the 8 ball, and the last he won outright. During the billiards was where I started to get... confused, I guess.
See, we'd had this conversation the other night and we discussed putting wagers on things. Of course, within the context of the conversation, "wager" had sexual overtones to it. So when we got to the second game and he asked if we should put a wager on it, I said, "sure. What do you want to wager?" Well, he couldn't think of anything, and that's where it stayed. During most of the time, too, he was easily distracted by the TVs again, or at least as far as I could tell.
When a woman is wearing a loose-fitting and fairly low-cut top and leans over a pool table, chances are good you can get quite an eyeful. If you choose to watch the NY Giants v. Green Bay Packers instead, she's not going to think you're interested in her.
Being a gentleman, he walked me to my car, where the awkward goodbye was prolonged because it was freezing and he asked for a ride to his car, which was parked in a different place. Of course I drove him over there, and as he exited my car, he said, "See ya."
See ya?
I was ready to consider this another one date wonder. I was convinced he didn't feel any chemistry, and honestly I wasn't sure what I felt, either. As I pulled into my parking area, my phone sounded its text message alert.
False alarm. It was my brother-in-law asking if I was going to be able to make their annual Christmas Cookie Party.
I proceeded to put on my pj's and grab the computer. I needed to research a questionable email I got and take care of a couple other random things, and then I was going to blog. Then another text message came through. This time, it was from J3.
J3: What did you think after meeting in person?
Me: Still intrigued... haven't quite figured you out, or what you think of me.
J3: Can I ask you something?
Me: Of course
J3: What would you have done if I would have tried to kiss you?
Wait, WHAT?! Where did this come from?!
So the long and the short of it is, he wants to see me again. We've decided on next Sunday, dinner at my place. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Except this time, I don't have any initial reservations about having him in my home, unlike when J1 wrangled the same invitation.
But let us not forget the other two candidates. I haven't heard from D in the past 36 hours or so, but we have set up a date for Saturday night. I'll probably text him in the morning if he doesn't text me first. And of course, we have J2.
J2 texted me late last night. Late. 10:40 on a Saturday night -- my Sunday morning alarm is around 5:00 a.m. -- is too late. I didn't reply until about 2:00 this afternoon. We had a pretty good conversation, although there was awkwardness at the beginning.
He asked if I had any plans tonight.
No point in being anything other than honest, so I told him I had a date tonight. He said "good for [me]" and then a few texts later he said that not being on a date with me tonight was "[his] loss." I told him it wasn't like I was going to marry tonight's date tonight, and kept the window open (within reason). Overall, the rest of the conversation was fine, even light-hearted at moments. It'll be a full two weeks before both of our schedules will allow us to meet, and in that time I already have date #2 with J3 and date #1 with D... and God and/or the universe only knows what else could happen in that time.
At least I know one thing: this cougar-in-training has to figure out what she's making for dinner next Sunday.
I'm still trying to figure out J3. It wasn't that the date was bad, and it wasn't that it was amazing. In striving for something a little off the normal first date list, we decided to meet up at Dave and Busters. Maybe that wasn't the best decision after all.
Problem #1 is that on a Sunday night, the only restaurant seating was basically in the bar area, surrounded by roughly a gazillion TVs, all set to sports channels. J3 is a big sports fan.
Dinner was fine, the conversation average. He did warn me that he often starts off shy or reserved, and it wasn't that there were awkward lulls or missteps by either of us. Safe, I suppose, is the best word to describe it. I did get an ego boost when we were both carded -- even when the fantastically gay waiter gave me a sort of knowing look upon seeing my ID after J3's ID. After dinner we wandered into the arcade area, looking for a couple of specific games. First, there was some bowling thing he'd done before, but apparently that game is no longer there. Secondly, we'd talked about air hockey -- we're both competitive people -- but it turned out the air hockey table wasn't working. So we played some Rambo video game (I beat him), we did some car game where our race ended up not being linked (I crashed into every conceivable thing and probably killed a dozen spectators), played a game of Skeeball (when one person is left handed and the other right, that should be taken into consideration when choosing lanes), and I watched him shoot some baskets (he actually did really well).
Then, we went to more of my comfort zone: billiards. Which, in the spirit of equality, I paid for. We shot 4 games, and I lost all 4... but 3 due to my mistakes and not because he actually won. The first and third games I lost by scratching while trying to sink the 8 ball; the second game I lost because I called the wrong pocket on the 8 ball, and the last he won outright. During the billiards was where I started to get... confused, I guess.
See, we'd had this conversation the other night and we discussed putting wagers on things. Of course, within the context of the conversation, "wager" had sexual overtones to it. So when we got to the second game and he asked if we should put a wager on it, I said, "sure. What do you want to wager?" Well, he couldn't think of anything, and that's where it stayed. During most of the time, too, he was easily distracted by the TVs again, or at least as far as I could tell.
When a woman is wearing a loose-fitting and fairly low-cut top and leans over a pool table, chances are good you can get quite an eyeful. If you choose to watch the NY Giants v. Green Bay Packers instead, she's not going to think you're interested in her.
Being a gentleman, he walked me to my car, where the awkward goodbye was prolonged because it was freezing and he asked for a ride to his car, which was parked in a different place. Of course I drove him over there, and as he exited my car, he said, "See ya."
See ya?
I was ready to consider this another one date wonder. I was convinced he didn't feel any chemistry, and honestly I wasn't sure what I felt, either. As I pulled into my parking area, my phone sounded its text message alert.
False alarm. It was my brother-in-law asking if I was going to be able to make their annual Christmas Cookie Party.
I proceeded to put on my pj's and grab the computer. I needed to research a questionable email I got and take care of a couple other random things, and then I was going to blog. Then another text message came through. This time, it was from J3.
J3: What did you think after meeting in person?
Me: Still intrigued... haven't quite figured you out, or what you think of me.
J3: Can I ask you something?
Me: Of course
J3: What would you have done if I would have tried to kiss you?
Wait, WHAT?! Where did this come from?!
So the long and the short of it is, he wants to see me again. We've decided on next Sunday, dinner at my place. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Except this time, I don't have any initial reservations about having him in my home, unlike when J1 wrangled the same invitation.
But let us not forget the other two candidates. I haven't heard from D in the past 36 hours or so, but we have set up a date for Saturday night. I'll probably text him in the morning if he doesn't text me first. And of course, we have J2.
J2 texted me late last night. Late. 10:40 on a Saturday night -- my Sunday morning alarm is around 5:00 a.m. -- is too late. I didn't reply until about 2:00 this afternoon. We had a pretty good conversation, although there was awkwardness at the beginning.
He asked if I had any plans tonight.
No point in being anything other than honest, so I told him I had a date tonight. He said "good for [me]" and then a few texts later he said that not being on a date with me tonight was "[his] loss." I told him it wasn't like I was going to marry tonight's date tonight, and kept the window open (within reason). Overall, the rest of the conversation was fine, even light-hearted at moments. It'll be a full two weeks before both of our schedules will allow us to meet, and in that time I already have date #2 with J3 and date #1 with D... and God and/or the universe only knows what else could happen in that time.
At least I know one thing: this cougar-in-training has to figure out what she's making for dinner next Sunday.
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