Going on two different dates in one night isn't necessarily on my Bucket List or anything - but it definitely satisfies my 2011 "Year of Yes." (My New Year's Resolution IS to go on more dates...) I honestly thought I was going to get a great blog story out of the evening...but sadly, they were both relatively attractive-ish, nice, sort of funny guys.
I was hoping for something stand out...funny or otherwise. I mean, wouldn't that be a great story to tell at your engagement party. "The night we met, you were date #2! But it was you who stole my heart." or something cheesy like that...and everyone would LOL and toast to him beating out the competition a la ABC's "The Bachelorette" style.
Alas, I wanted excitement, but I got white bread.
Bachelor #1: Mr. NICE.During the dates, I didn't have a BAD time, per se....but at no point in the evening did I want either of them to touch me, let alone kiss me. So, back to the drawing board.
If the only word someone can use to describe you is "NICE," - it means that you aren't interesting. Or funny. Or handsome. Or unique in any way. So the fact that all I can think of to describe him is "NICE" should tell you the whole story. I may still give him a second chance to see if maybe he is just shy...maybe.
Bachelor #2: Mr. CREEPSTER
Like a hipster wannabe, but creepier. It was like his sideburns ate the hair on the top of his head..."hipster mutton chops" like nobody's business, but with a slight hint of "sexual predator." He had already struck out...with or without those sideburns.
Strike 1: He told me that he saw me on Fountain square one night and again walking on Main Street while he was riding the bus. DON'T TELL ME THAT! I don't care if its true - I don't want to hear that you have been watching me from afar and from public transport before we ever met.
Strike 2: He rides a trick bike...he can't afford a car so he rides the bike that my 13 year old boyfriend rode around.
Strike 3: He texted me yesterday the following sentence "Hey babe, how's your bod?" When I refused to reply to that type of message, he said "Clearly you didn't get the Ferris Bueller reference." NO - no I didn't because that just sounded creepy. What I want to reply back to him is, "Actually, the line is 'Hey Ferris, how's your bod? I heard you're dying.' BUT - I am not sick. I am not Ferris Bueller. And I am not your 'babe.' Don't try to defend your way-too-familiar/sexual text message by hiding behind John Hughes. We're done here." Instead, I just froze him out with radio silence.
I just plan to keep on keepin' on. Hopefully, as Bad Decision August rages on and The "Year of Yes" continues - I will meet someone that I actually WANT to touch me and completely forget about what's his name!