Back in the game

A couple of months ago, I decided it was time to quit avoiding dating- something I had very purposefully set on a shelve for the spring and summer.  I figured it was time to get back in the game, although after the last couple of weeks, I'm thinking the game changed while I was on hiatus. 

I had a date last week with a guy who was perfect on paper.  Unfortunately, that particular experience left me feeling like he was checking off items on a list, trying to decide whether I met his criteria for long term potential.  It felt like more of a job interview than anything else.  At one point, he even asked if I'd ever consider "relocating" to Provo.  Who says "relocating" other than in context of a professional move? It was really, really odd.  

But I digress.




I met today's gentleman on the elevators at one of my office buildings.  He was cute, he was funny, and after a while, I looked forward to running into him.  After a few conversations, he asked me out. He seemed nice, i knew he was intelligent, he's cute (although he does wear really pointy shoes)...why not?  And then came the weird part.  And by weird, I am referring to one specific elevator incident.

There are social norms surrounding elevators, people.  You get in, you walk to the back (or as near the back as you can go) you turn around, and you stare at the number sign.  You fill up the empty spaces first, and then start standing next to each other (remember learning about covalent bonding in Chemistry...it's like that, only with humans.  Single spaces first, then doubling up.)  Everyone knows this - right?  RIGHT?!  Yeah...he didn't.

On Monday, he got on the elevator right after me, and instead of standing in the other corner like a good covalent bond should, he stood facing me, really close and sort of squished me into the corner.  Weird, but...ok.  Maybe he didn't learn Chemistry in high school.  On the ride up, we made plans to meet for sushi, and then, as the elevator started to slide to a stop, he got a deep and intense look in his eyes....he leaned in...and.... he sniffed me.  Yeah...you heard me right....SNIFFED ME!

"You smell goooooood.  Donna Karan Cashmere?  Gucci something-or-other?" he said, as the elevator doors pinged our arrival. 

He was standing so close to me that I was backed up right against the back wall of the elevator.

"Uh, no.  Mr. Bubble.  Unscented. "  I mumbled, as I sorta slid/scooched/slithered out and around him.  "See you Thursday."  And with that, I beat a hasty retreat to my desk, wondering what the hell had just happened. 

It is at this point of the story where, upon telling my friend Candace about this, she declared she would be done.  Date cancelled.  And herein lies the difference between Candace and me.  She would choose the most logical option, the adult option, the normal option. 

I chose to see what would happen on an actual date with him.

Note to self:  Candace is smart.  Listen to her.  

So fast forward to today's sushi adventure.  I left from my other work building, planning on meeting him at one of my favorite places.  It's close to his workplace, and close to my home, so it's perfect.  Plus, I go there enough that I know the waitresses and bartenders, and figure I can either yell for help, or at least hit him with a conveniently placed sushi roller-upper (do those things have a name?), in the event of any errant sniffing scenes. 

He greeted me at the door with a "hello, beautiful lady" (really?)  and sort of leaned in for a kiss. Or something.  I apparently missed this little gesture, as was trying to pull out my ID from my wallet.  So, as a reward for his romantic intentions, he ended up with a mouthful of my hair.  I'm sure it was delicious. 

From there, things were not too bad (for First Date Land, which is much different than the real world, mind you):

The food:  delicious.  I *heart* sushi, and especially really spicy sushi.  Yum.

The conversation:  surprisingly good.  As long as I kept him out of "Hey, baby" mode, he was really easy and interesting to talk with.  While the subjects bounced around the presidential debates, recent reads, and baseball, we did ok.  We learned that we are both veterans (him-Army.  Me- Hoo Rah Air Force!) But as soon as he had any opening at all, he would do this thing where he'd sorta slouch into his shoulders, look at me with this strange intensity (at one point, I thought maybe he was experiencing a small, brain twitchy seizure-y thing) and make his voice all raspy and deep and say something slick and what I imagine he thought was pretty. damn. sexy. 

Ick.  (For the record, of course it's flattering to know that someone thinks you are attractive, is into you, whatever.  But I'd much prefer that person simply say that, rather than throw around some creepy phrasing that is too laden with innuendo to be met with anything other than an eye roll.)

The longer dinner went on, the harder it was to keep him on 'safe' topics.  Conversationally, it was like herding cats.  If, you know, cats could have "50 shades of gray" inspired conversations.  Or if what he was saying was like "50 shades of gray," which I haven't read because it just looks stupid.  On second thought, it probably was more like a sexed up volume of Sweet Valley High.  I mean, the guy is a BYU educated attorney, after all.  I don't know that "50 shades" is part of his repertoire.

But again, I digress.  

When dinner was over, he insisted on walking me to my car.  Which worked out just fine because 1) it was dark and I was wearing heels and I'm notoriously clumsy in the dark and 2) he was parked in the same garage as me.

At my car, I made a point of opening doors and rearranging my purse and my jacket, hoping he'd get the "I'm not really interested in you kissing me" vibe.  He missed that vibe entirely.  

I was sorta yelling "goodnight, thanks for dinner" with my back mostly turned to him, but when I turned back around, there he was...all-up-in-my-grill (imagine me doing that 3 snaps in a z formation thing now).  There was some fancy footwork during which I tried not to step on his overly pointy shoes by dancing around like some boxing champ, and then I sorta hopped into my car seat to dodge the kiss that was coming my way fast.  At that exact moment, he went to put his arm around my waist so I knocked him off balance, which knocked him forward, even more into my space. Which, in hindsight, I think he saw as me moving in closer, encouraging this little escapade.

So he moves in, I jump up and out, turning my head and pulling back away.  And somehow in that whole messy, mixed up process, he did manage to lay one one me.

But not in the way I think (I hope!) he meant to, or in a way I had ever, ever, EVER imagined.

He didn't so much as kiss me as...

He. Licked. My. Jaw.

Yep.   That's right.

He.
Licked.
My.
Jaw.

And instead of acknowledging that the whole experience was a little off, he sorta hummed a little and went back in for another. 
And I sorta pushed him out of the way, yelled "goodnight" and slammed my door shut.

And then I went home and took a shower, with a whole lot of extra Mr. Bubble unscented body wash.

When I got out of the shower, there was a text waiting for me.

-Hope you made it home safe.  Had a great time.  Do it again soon? xx -  (really? xx? too soon for xx's)

Right now, the whole evening - the inappropriate innuendos, the slinky, slimy stare, the JAW LICKING - has me wanting to ingest a gulp of hand sanitizer every day into enternity, so I'm thinking it's safe to say no.  not again soon.

Probably not again ever.

And this, friends...this is why I was avoiding the dating scene.

And now I've put myself right back into the middle of it.

Better stock up on some hand sanitizer.



Edited to add:  After a few conversations about this post, I think I need to make something really clear here - the guy who appears in this story is not someone who is part of my day-to-day life.  I won't be seeing him again, and he isn't in any way connected to anyone I know- we don't have mutual friends, he doesn't know my family and we don't work together.  It's highly unlikely that he'd ever read this blog, so I'm not worried about how he'd perceive this portrayal of himself.  If I were to date someone I had multiple connections to; i.e. we had mutual friends, I would never, never, NEVER blog about that in such a snarky way.  Actually, it's very unlikely I'd blog about it, at all.  So please just read this as a funny situation that I wanted to share, and let's all move on.  Ok?  Ok.