Saturday, July 2, 2011


I just walked in the door from my first date in over ten years.  First, let's put the ten years into context.  As we know, I was married to the ex for seven years, I've lived without him for two years and he was the only guy I dated in the year previous to that, so add it up, that's ten years.

Well, I met someone.  He's very handsome.  For me, I think I was batting a little high, but I figured with a bit of confidence I could bat the league.  I learned something from that tonight...

Ok, let's set it up for you.  How I met the guy will remain a little known fact, so don't ask.  But, this afternoon I called him just to say "hi" and I ended up with an invitation to drinks.  Not bad, I nearly had a conniption thinking about actually spending time with someone that good looking, but instead of falling over with a heart attack, I gathered my courage, pressed, dressed, grabbed directions to the place off of Google Maps and headed out the door.  

Now, it doesn't help that Miller's Ale House is hell and gone from my apartment.  It sits squarely in bum f'ed Egypt in comparison to my little hidey-hole in Northwest Vegas.  It takes a half an hour to get there.  Of course what do we know about me?  That no matter how hard I try to be on time, I'm a walking tardy.   I could tell straight away, driving down the road at Mach 2, that the fates had squared off against me.

The place we went to was very neat.  And, lucky for me, and what I didn't know, is that there was a huge UFC fight tonight.  Remember how we just don't go there anymore because the ex used to live and breathe that mixed martial arts stuff?  Yeah, there I was, all sorts overjoyed with having to sit squarely toe-to-toe battling bad memories of my ex while sitting next to a guy that would make even Adonis weep.  At that point I knew I was down for the count, but even so, I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

How often do I talk about eating fish?  Has it even come up in the two years we've been on this journey?  The answer is NO.  But there I sat eating fish tacos.  I have to say, they weren't bad at all.  I rather enjoyed them. However, y'all know me pretty good...I roll with the flow.  So, I sat drinking my usual Malibu Madras and happily snacked on the fish tacos.  

Ok, let's get into the guts of it and why I wanted to smack my head on my steering wheel all the way home screaming at myself, "Way to go Sheri, way to epic fail."  I came away from tonight with a handshake from Adonis, and it wasn't over my eating habits or how I did anything in particular, it was just a case of somewhere along the line things failed.  

As we can pretty much assume, Adonis doesn't smoke, so I sucked it up and lobbed a piece of Nicorette in my mouth.  I wish he knew how much that meant that I was willing to forgo a major serenity inducing cigarette to be able to sit and talk to him.  How often do I compromise on things like that?  Outside of family, I don't deliberately not smoke for ANYONE.   I was already nervous and to be honest, if someone would have walked in with a paint scraper to chisel me off the ceiling from the get-go I would have been better off.   If I would have been able to just relax, I would have done much better.  But there I was, unable to give myself the one thing I needed to get through things in a more serene manner.

So, the drinks start to flow, the fish tacos come and go, and the conversation was going ok, I guess.  I talked about my work, the use of virtual worlds, my need to get out more, you know, all the things I've been covering with y'all for the last two years.  That I was actually sitting there with a gorgeous guy was tantamount to a miracle, and there I am feeling like I'm talking too much and my neuroses took over.

In my defense, Adonis is very quiet, you know, one of those "still waters run deep" kind of guys?  Well, he took part in things, gave as good as he got, and was a real gentleman about the whole thing.  However, he didn't give me much to work with, so I honestly didn't have clue one of what to do.

Then, after sitting there for four hours, he walked me to my car.  We didn't even get all the way to it.  Half way, I got a polite handshake and an "I'll be in touch with you next week."  After I heard that, I could hear my face hitting the pavement so hard that I'm surprised I have a nose left.  It left me with the overall impression that I had epically failed, that I had batted WAY outside my league and that my fluffy butt has been doing just what it should have done today, stayed at home where it's safe.

I can walk away from today by giving myself the one consolation that has been my saving grace for a while now..."At least I was outside."

Oh gods, he was so beautiful and you could tell if you got him talking he'd be incredible.  I just wanted to break out a spoon and eat him up, but alas, I got a handshake.  As KP would say, "GG," good game.  Forgive me as I take out my contacts and go into my dresser for my Video Games Live t-shirt, then flop face down on my bed for a good, long cry.  

I'm going to take a hopeful approach to the handshake.  I'm going to listen to my inner Tae and my inner Nan and think that he was being kind, gentlemanly, and taking things slowly (which we all know I can totally use).  But I don't know, the body language just wasn't there.  My gut says "good effort, well done, just move on" while my inner romantic keeps hoping he was just being a true gentleman.  Who knows, we'll see if the phone rings.  If it does, I'll be ecstatic, if it doesn't, I won't be surprised.  But like KP and Jim have told me so many times, "Set yourself up to succeed, not to fail," so I'll remain positive and hopeful.  

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.  


I'm going to treat myself to the sweets in my fridge...fresh strawberries and a bit of Hershey's syrup.

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