I was nervous about meeting Shorty, more so than any other girl I’ve met thus far. It didn’t help that the evening was off to an inauspicious start and I hadn’t even arrived yet. Instead I was stuck in traffic. I ditched the highway for the service road, which was only marginally better. Finally I passed the source of congestion: there was an accident. In the shoulder. All three lanes of traffic were clear, but everybody – including those on the service road – had to stop and look. Why? Because people are stupid motherfuckers and that’s what they do, no matter how long I laid into the horn to express my displeasure.
Once I got back on the highway I did my best to make double time. Unfortunately I ran into another rolling roadblock, i.e. a driver from Virginia. Every asshole from Virginia that comes to NY decides to get in the left lane and go 60. Tip: when you’re in NY, don’t get in the left lane and go 60 when the speed limit is 55. You either go 75-80 or you GTFO of the way.
At some during all this hubbub I managed to call Shorty and tell her I was running late and why. Thankfully she was understanding. I only got there 15 minutes late. She met me outside and we hugged. Thank God. Not another hand-shaker. Had she proffered her hand I probably would have unbuckled my pants and taken a crap on the sidewalk. But I didn’t need to do that. Why I would have done that, I don’t know, but somehow it seems like an appropriate response.
We were seated, we were wined and dined, and between my glass of red and the three hours of sleep the night before (too keyed up) I was getting rather silly. Enter offensive jokes. Fortunately she was of the same mind I was, and not only that but she was the first girl I’ve met that didn’t want kids either. Home run! Score! Schwing!
Dinner was over, and afterwards we somehow ended up at a Starbucks. Sigh. Even though I’ve sworn them off, they still seem to find me. And even though we’d been together for two hours at this point (JBlondie, take note), we were still a bit nervous and awkward around each other. It was also getting a bit late so I suggested that I walk her to her car. Smooth.
Soon we were standing next to her car, and I shuffled my feet a bit and asked whether I could kiss her. Indeed I could. So I grabbed her and pulled her close and we kissed. And kissed. And kissed some more. She tossed her pumpkin crappuchino or whatever the hell it was so she could grip me better, and I heard it splatter somewhere in the parking lot. Our vertical wrestling match went on for several minutes until we finally ended it and said good night.
It was a bit… underwhelming. I dunno, it felt like I was kissing myself, I don’t know how to describe it. But she just about told me that things are only going to get more physical from here on out. So needless to say, we’re going on a second date.
First dates: 19
Second dates: 1
Third dates: 1
Stood up: 2
First kisses: 1
Sexual experiences: 0.5