photo credit: http://api.ning.com/
When does "a date" become "dating"? An age old question but fortunately I think I figured it out with this one.
After a long game of phone tag I finally met up with The Rock again. Several failed attempts throughout the week lead us to dinner near my place, a very suitable Monday night activity. King street is littered with amazing Thai restaurants so I was happy to try a new one. He wanted to pick me up, but I have learned my lesson about driving in cars with this boy, plus I needed the exercise since my running routine has become almost obsolete.
I met him on the corner so I could sneak up behind him. He was as large and beefy as I had remembered with a killer smile. We politely said hello and proceeded to walk around in search of a venue to foster our second date. We made small talk and what not and finally decided on a Thai place with some catchy name like "thai=tanic" or "curry Thai-m". We sat in the corner and perused the menu. I ordered Beef-Salad and knew he thought I was one of those girls who only eats salad and drinks white wine for dinner. I tried to explain that it was pretty much a plate of beef with some veggies and that was it. He was skeptical.
As we waited for our food I gradually discovered that we had pretty much talked about everything we had in common on our first date...and half of that date included a comedy show and then a real show at the Comedy Club. I was running out of empty questions to ask just as our food arrived. Thank God. He was curious with my lettuce-less salad so I invited him to try some. I told him it was spicy but men never listen. He popped a slice of meat into his mouth and immediately started tearing up. I smiled at at him coyly and we enjoyed the rest of our meal with minimal speaking.
After dinner he grabbed the check and my hand and we strolled awkwardly down the sparsely crowded street. He suggested ice cream or a drink and I told him I couldn't have either due to allergies and an early morning the next day. Really, I just wanted to go home.
On a dark corner under a tree he pulled me in for the kiss I had dreading since we ran out of things to say. You know you're not into a guy when you don't even want to kiss him. He inhaled my red stained lips a little and kissed me all over my face. I don't know if other girls find this sexy but I found it kina clumsy, like a horse searching for a carrot with its lips. Sometimes I don't know where guys get their moves. Too bad because he's really cute.
I refused an escort back to my house so as not to prolong my discomfort, gave him one last kiss goodbye and thanked him for a lovely evening. I walked down the street a ways then called my roommate to give her the report. Just as I had anticipated, I wasn't that into him. It's too bad too because he's very handsome, sweet and has the sexiest voice I have ever heard. We just don't have a lot in common. Plus, I am pretty sure my soft spot is with skinny, nerdy guys and he is more of your typical jock. Nice to look at but if you want to talk about art and books, forget it.
I got home and poured a glass of wine and re-capped with my roommate. "A" for effort, but no sparks.
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