I like to think that I’m a “normal” person. Besides the fact that my career puts me in the local limelight, I consider myself fairly average. I’m a dork that got lucky and gets to be on television. That’s honestly how I see myself. Contrary to the stereotypes that seem to follow some local TV personalities, I don’t have a large ego. My outgoing personality can fill a room, but I check my ego at the door. Anyway, I figured that if I am, by my definition, “normal” then there must be some other men on Tinder who are also normal.
I start chatting with a few. One is British…hot…one is a doctor…super hot…but nothing really comes out of any of it except mindless chat. My phone rings. Its “Mike.” He is asking me out for drinks. He called. He picked up the phone, scrolled through his contacts, found my number and pressed “dial.” It may not seem like a lot, but with everything electronic these days, picking up the phone to physically speak to me earns you bonus points. Technology isn’t all its cracked up to be sometimes. I don’t know about you, but I need human interaction.
“Mike” wants to meet in person. We agree to meet at 9PM at a local bar equidistant from our two apartments. I gave him a general location of my apartment. I’m overly cautious as it is and I have never met this man before so I’m vague. I get dressed for our first “date.”
As mentioned in my previous blog entries, women know exactly what they are doing when they’re getting dressed and ready for a date. Nothing we wear or do to our hair or makeup is by accident. We’ve dated enough to know what parts of our body to accentuate and which parts would benefit from being hidden. We know how to make ourselves the most attractive versions of ourselves.
I decide on a white came with a pale brown sweater over top. Its opened in the front. I’m wearing my best bra and happen to be one of the founding members of the “Busty Girls Club” so I keep it classy, but make sure there’s just enough cleavage happening that it gets him to wonder…or at least check me out. I pair it with skinny jeans and a pair of wedges, fix my hair and makeup (making sure that my baby blue eyes POP) and I’m out the door.
We meet outside the bar. I pull up first and then he does just a few moments later. He steps out of his car. O-M-G he’s gorgeous. 6’1…blonde…blue eyes…broad shoulders…the kind of man you know could pick you up and toss you around…(snap out of it, sister). He introduces himself and hugs me as I introduce myself. We go inside and sit at a table and each order a drink.
The conversation is easy and the connection is immediate. We talk about subjects from work to where we grew up to family to sports, etc. 3 hours pass like its nothing. I really enjoy talking to Mike. He’s flirtatious and he keeps telling me that I’m beautiful and notices my eyes (makeup win). I get up to use the restroom at one point and catch him checking me out. It feels GOOD. He thinks I’m hot. He caught me checking him out once. His top button on his shirt is undone and I can see a tattoo on his chest just peeking out ever-so-slightly. I’m curious about it. I guess I was staring because he told me the story behind the tattoo. Oops.
Its now after midnight. He has to work in the morning. We’ve had 2 drinks. I’m flying. I’m so attracted to this man. I’m wrapped up in everything he is saying. I am in absolute amazement that this gorgeous man is making eyes at ME!
We walk out of the bar and reluctantly say goodnight. He says he had an amazing time and already wants to know what I’m doing tomorrow. He and his friends are grilling out and he wants me to join. I tell him to give me the details and I’ll try and stop by. He kisses my cheek and asks me to text him when I get home so he knows I made it alright. I guess chivalry isn’t completely dead.
I get into my car and take a deep breath. That was probably the best first date I have ever been on and the fastest I have ever felt a connection with someone. I drive home in an infatuated daze. As soon as I pull into my parking spot, I text him to tell him I made it home.
We continue texting back and forth until 3AM. I have never felt this way after a first date and by his texts to me, neither has he. Could I have found my perfect man this quickly? Its 3AM and I’m now exhausted but I’m going to sleep with a smile on my face.
He asks me again about cooking out by the pool with his friends. Of course I’m going. And I’m shopping for a new outfit first thing in the morning.