After a few years of intentionally not dating, I got back in the saddle on Friday with the first, of hopefully, many dates to come....
In typical city fashion, I met my date at a Muni bus stop. Faking idiot foreigner, he asked me questions about the direction and cost of the bus, then proceeded to sit next to me on the bus. My usual reaction to this sort of behavior is a look of disgust followed by changing seats, but something made me stick around this time...
"He" is a journalist visiting in order to familiarize himself with American culture to broaden his perspective (admirable) and work on his English. So, when I realized I was so interested in our conversation that I missed my bus stop, I gave him my card.
I had almost forgotten about him when a week later he called and apologized for not contacting me sooner due to an out-of-town research trip. Polite and considerate, I thought, I like that...
Being the good Eastern European that he is, he proceeded to ask me out for coffee, but being naturally anxious, I decided to up the anty and meet up for beers at my favorite beer garden.
The first hour of dissecting American culture was interesting, the second was downright boring. This was FRIDAY, I wanted to drink beer and talk shit with friends, but instead was stuck on my overly intellectual first date with someone who ordered Budweiser and french fries, neither of which were on the menu. When "he" proceeded to drink his beer, pinky raised, I began to nod obligingly while daydreaming about the possibilities of this date. Did this guy want a green card? I've heard of foreigners paying tons of money to Americans who marry them in order to get a green card. Or wait, was "he" secretly gay and wanted to escape the oppressive culture he lived in by "marrying" me while maintaining a secret life on the side? So sneaky! These conspiracy theories helped me make it through the next hour before life took us in other directions.
But I was left pondering, who is this man? What does he want from me? What do I want from him? Do I want anything from him? With the unusual sunny weather I haven't seen him without his sunnies, and what does that poet say about eyes being the windows to the soul? Do I like him? Well, I didn't have to wait long to find out. The very next day when I turned on my phone, I had missed two calls and one text from him and felt nothing, not excitement or longing to reconnect. Actually, I did feel something, annoyance at having heard from him so quickly and in such hasty fashion. "That's it," I realized, "I'm just not into you..." Ahhh, sigh of relief, after realizing I won't have to sit through more "Americans are this way" speeches.
So, to "He," you are lovely, intelligent and I'm sure will make some woman (or man) very happy, but I'm not interested, no not even in friendship...Good luck in life and love.
NEXT!
In typical city fashion, I met my date at a Muni bus stop. Faking idiot foreigner, he asked me questions about the direction and cost of the bus, then proceeded to sit next to me on the bus. My usual reaction to this sort of behavior is a look of disgust followed by changing seats, but something made me stick around this time...
"He" is a journalist visiting in order to familiarize himself with American culture to broaden his perspective (admirable) and work on his English. So, when I realized I was so interested in our conversation that I missed my bus stop, I gave him my card.
I had almost forgotten about him when a week later he called and apologized for not contacting me sooner due to an out-of-town research trip. Polite and considerate, I thought, I like that...
Being the good Eastern European that he is, he proceeded to ask me out for coffee, but being naturally anxious, I decided to up the anty and meet up for beers at my favorite beer garden.
The first hour of dissecting American culture was interesting, the second was downright boring. This was FRIDAY, I wanted to drink beer and talk shit with friends, but instead was stuck on my overly intellectual first date with someone who ordered Budweiser and french fries, neither of which were on the menu. When "he" proceeded to drink his beer, pinky raised, I began to nod obligingly while daydreaming about the possibilities of this date. Did this guy want a green card? I've heard of foreigners paying tons of money to Americans who marry them in order to get a green card. Or wait, was "he" secretly gay and wanted to escape the oppressive culture he lived in by "marrying" me while maintaining a secret life on the side? So sneaky! These conspiracy theories helped me make it through the next hour before life took us in other directions.
But I was left pondering, who is this man? What does he want from me? What do I want from him? Do I want anything from him? With the unusual sunny weather I haven't seen him without his sunnies, and what does that poet say about eyes being the windows to the soul? Do I like him? Well, I didn't have to wait long to find out. The very next day when I turned on my phone, I had missed two calls and one text from him and felt nothing, not excitement or longing to reconnect. Actually, I did feel something, annoyance at having heard from him so quickly and in such hasty fashion. "That's it," I realized, "I'm just not into you..." Ahhh, sigh of relief, after realizing I won't have to sit through more "Americans are this way" speeches.
So, to "He," you are lovely, intelligent and I'm sure will make some woman (or man) very happy, but I'm not interested, no not even in friendship...Good luck in life and love.
NEXT!
