Original Post Date September 04, 2013 at 11:53 AM
This is part two of a two part observation on dating in the digital age. Von throws caution in the wind, only to get regret tossed back.
While online dating offers an organized approach to matchmaking, ya gotta be spontaneous every once in a while! After all, it’s called a leap of faith, not a hushed tip toe of faith. “M”’s profile described him as a musician. Seemed real chill. So I thought, let me accept his random invitation to hang out. I asked, where to? He said, let me get back to you on that. I want to make it reallyspecial.
He chose Ringside Cafe at 7pm. A quarter til, I sent the obligatory ‘on my way’ message. I’m cutting across 22nd Ave N towards 4th when I get this text: meet at 730? I respond, sure. Already en route, I continue towards the venue and park. He sends another text. Make it 8pm? I offer to reschedule the date. He insists, no, I’ll be there, we’ll have a great time. Fine.
You remember my two beer an outing rule?
It’s 720 and I find a pocket at the bar. I order Guinness Number One.
“Oh great, this one’s gonna talk my ear off,” a voice beside me teases to one of the bartenders. I look over at the red nosed, barrel chested man introduced as “D” working down a lager. Another text from M: waiting on a cab. I share with D I’m waiting on my date. He gives me a look that is best described as salacious.
A familiar face approached my left. I gave M an embrace and noticed his blue eyes were black. He wore a cheesy grin across his face. I scanned his chosen ensemble for the evening: flip flops, cargo shorts, ironic T-shirt. Argh. D makes an offhanded comment about my date finally arriving. M orders a beer and I order Guinness Number Two.
M and I enter into an exchange about music. I feel a tap against my right shoulder. D suggested I order food while the kitchen was open. Thanks for the heads up? I turn back to my date, and his face was demonic. I ask if he’s okay, and he shifted back to stoner angelic, saying no, nothing’s wrong, you hungry? You wanna eat? Anything you want honey.
As soon as M left for the restroom, D launched into colorful commentary. Damn girl! You had to walk in here with that dress on. How’s that date going? I’m retired Navy. I’m a Seabee, you know what that means? I was in Afghanistan. I’ma give you my number and we’re gonna go out. Not if you’re wearing that dress, don’t think we’re leaving the house!
With D, it’s not touch my peapod. It’s here’s my peapod.
With impressive timing, the house band segued into “Ain’t That Lonely Yet.” I sang along and caught M smiling towards me, but his eyes were over my shoulder. I ‘m compelled to look over at what M’s scowling at, and realized D’s talking to him. I catch D emphasizing, I’ve been to war, buddy, I’ve seen some ish.
M, would you like to move?
No honey. I’m fine.
M stopped listening to the band a while ago. He stopped being on a date a while ago. He was clearly needing D to make one more comment so they could go at it. I decided to let the dogs bark, and ordered Guinness Number Three.