My first real, actually pleasurable date was on Canada Day/ July 1st. I’ll never forget it because of that and also because it was low fat, cruelty free and non work related in every way with fireworks thrown in for good measure. I fucking LOVE fireworks #boom
Until then, as we all know because I whinge about it in pretty much every fucking post, it had been six months of slogging. Dude, no exaggeration. It. Was. Bru. Tal. Totally longing looks…at my watch…and delicately worded rejections. Not exactly the Disneyland of singledom I’d been envisioning when I joined the POF pool. I had no personal mission statement to guide me and I was all over the map allofthetime. First I was ecstatic then in emotional ICU from being BMXed yet I continued to meet men. Badly. I was over invested and underwhelmed both at the same time. Never say die! Just keep muttering: Are you fucking KIDDING me? under my breath because that’s how I roll, kids. It was that tragic. Hahahaha
So. I began messaging with B. not too long before we met. As I recall, he was quick to cut to the chase and ask me out which is always appreciated as the point of online dating is to meet someone OFFLINE. Hello.
Our original meet was to be at a Jazz fest venue. The day of though, he began texting me about a possible change of plans. His business partner was having a party with a perfect view of fireworks from their deck; would I be interested in taking a chance and going there with him instead?
Here’s something most people never believe about me: I’m shy. Or more correctly, I think of myself as a shy person. I don’t PRESENT as a shy person so if you were to meet me you would probably never in a million walk away going: Whoa, wallflower much? But. I am not a party girl. It’s mildly excruciating for me to be among a group of strangers and it’s also in part why it took me so long to acclimate to first dates as well. Lucky I’ve had sooo much fucking practice, huh?
I’m not xenophobic. Ish. I’m just not that forthcoming person who feels all strangers are just friends we haven’t met yet #Gah I’m the girl in the corner, having an intense one on one. I can superficial it when I have to and small talk for the Olympics but at heart I’m an emotional entrails kinda gal. Get in deep. Make a real connection. That’s all.
So then, not just a first date but to be thrown among a group in which I’m the outsider? It would have been my every normal impulse to say thanks but fuck no, thanks. HOWEVER. I must have sprinkled a little more crack cocaine than usual in my AM caffeine because I said: Sure. SURE! Like someone who wouldn’t rather walk across fairly warm coals than chit chat when no one’s paying me to ask how you are. Jesus, that must have been good crack.
Anyhoo. B came to pick me up and we hit it off right away, effortlessly chatting as we drove out to the partay, the size of which was still unknown. I was “prepared” for a veritable onslaught of strangers but it was an even more “could be deadly” combo of a couple and her best friend. That. Was. It. We were on a fucking first date with basically a small family along for the ride. Holy shit, right?
But. This complete recipe for disaster turned out to be a blast. I liked everyone there including my date and I had a fabulous time. With fireworks! This was so far from my usual experience it was like the Twilight Zone but in a good way. I had chosen to go out as “alternate Universe me” – Carefree! Spontaneous! Adventurous and PARTY GOING – and shown myself I could not only survive but thrive.
This was actually astonishing to me and it was the first step toward much more rewarding dating experiences from that moment on. I don’t know how or why but suddenly Sue I was attracting guys that were much more in alignment with what I was looking for. Ish. It was as if I had gone from being a shy, bookish planner to a partying “let’s wing it” girl but without actually doing anything more than choosing to just try, even if it was something that made me uncomfortable. Especially if it was something that made me uncomfortable.
Don’t get me wrong – I had already done plenty of boundary pushing just going online and there were many times I was uber barfy with all the new I was trying to assimilate just to keep up. This felt different. This was me doing my best to be and stay open to a part of myself that could feel less constrained by my usual characteristic tics. Alternate Universe me was still me…just me light. In all the best ways. Go me.
I didn’t make it past the mythic date #6 with B either but he’ll always be my gateway guy – the one that stopped me from feeling like everyone was lying like dirty dogs when they talked about fun and dating in the same breath. For that, I’ll always be grateful.
Does dating as yourself work for you? Or would it be more rewarding if you say, pulled a George and did everything the opposite of your first instincts? He was an idiot, but perhaps of the savant variety...
Please share here at Date with Lucy where I'd rather BE the idiot than date one #justsaying