Why Crying’s Not Allowed On A First Date

There was just something about him…

Danny 2.0 sent me a long and thoughtful message on POF soon after all the sound and fury and ridiculousness of the 22 year old 37 year old. He wasn’t really my type and most of his pictures left me cold but there was one to which I was curiously drawn so I replied. Immediately. Well, Danny freaked out and made some stupid crack about “Wow! That was fast!” so I let it go, thinking: “Huh. ” It didn’t match what he’d first said, let’s put it that way.

Fast forward a few days later and again, I received an even longer, articulate missive. He told me he’d spent HOURS crafting it! Omigosh, right? It was obvious he was already attached. Sigh.

How does that happen, you ask? Because it’s happened to me before FOR SURE and I think it happens because of me as well which probably explains my “usual crew” that hang on long past the point where it makes sense, you know? Sending me a flirt or three every day. Really, guys?

But we’re each of us just human with all these chemicals and hormones surging through our physical selves that respond to certain visual stimuli with desire, be it heartfelt or elsewhere located. I’ve seen some profile pics SO HOT I’ve pretty much fallen the fuck over! Seriously. Others, I’ve concocted and connected happily ever stories to even though I knew it was all in my head but it felt so real and so lovely. We’re just human and vulnerable, especially when we’re looking to genuinely connect with another person.

Anyway. I do try to discourage anyone who develops strong feelings for me based on the pictures I’ve posted because yeah, I’m SO not what men imagine when they meet me based on what I look like. Ha! However, I did have a weird soft spot for Danny 2.0 because of his lovely letters so we began emailing and TEXTING…because oc, I still hadn’t learned my false intimacy lesson well enough yet. Curses. And we hit it off like a house on fire before meeting. OC. Then. We had our first date. SIGH.

It was, hands down, the weirdest, most intense first date I’ve yet had. MAD intense. First of all, Danny was sooo nervous throughout the entire thing he was pretty much shaking and could barely meet my eyes. !! I mean, I get butterflies as well but I can fake my way through it and Danny had owned a bar for the love of God and should have been the bullshit king at the table. Ummm, yeah no.

However, we still managed to have a conversation and WHAT a conversation it was. I mentioned I’m somewhat of a “date whisperer” in a previous post and this was never more evident than with Danny 2.0 that night. Long story short, I “made him” talk about childhood stuff and his dad that he hadn’t shared with his ex gf until they’d been together for a year. In return, I talked about MY family and a recent traumatic event that upset me so much I had to leave the table to go CRY IN THE BATHROOM.  A fucking shitshow of a first date. Seriously.

However, we both persevered and made it to another bar and a little bit more “normal” convo. By the end, Danny was one of the few guys that I didn’t know about right away, if you can believe that. ! Regardless of how superficially awkward and downright badly it had gone, there was still something about him. He didn’t even try to kiss me good night in the middle of the street but he did touch my face so sweetly and it felt like we had a tenuous but very real connection.

I called him on his weirdness and nerves the next day and he said it had nothing to do with me though he didn’t then say what it was. Huh. And we did have a second date. This time I enjoyed a nice glass of rose and some smoked salmon pizza by the water while he detailed, for two straight hours, his last break up. I didn’t even mind listening; I felt more maternal at that point more than anything. He was a sweet guy and she had fucked him up. Big time. It was almost like listening to an audio book, you know?

After a few more texts and his: “I’d love to stay friends because you’re a great girl!” I never heard from him again. Sometimes you just go with your gut and sometimes it’s still not definitive and it’s like all the rest - good, bad or indifferent. You’ve gotta just LET. IT. GO.

To this day, I don’t know what Danny 2.0 wanted or what he thought he wanted from me. I don’t know what our connection was that made me even reply to him let alone go on a second date after I was in the bathroom crying during the first one. It was my most inexplicable connection, to be honest. Yet he was genuine and doing his best, as was I. It wasn’t so much a matter of lunch bag letdown in the end though, more like: where did this fucking lunch bag even come from and what do I DO with it? Neither of us knew. And that concludes the story of my time with Danny 2.0 in the Twilight Zone of dating. As if it’s not fucking weird enough as it is. Ha!

Have you ever had a date like this where you felt like you were two different halves of two different puzzles? Like the Eiffel Tower but two different views? Or does that shit only happen here at Date with Lucy? Rhetorical q. #sigh