If he’d been the right sort of guy, it would have been a meet-cute right out of a romantic comedy. I had a headachey time trying to get my prescription updated at my regular glasses place, so I tried another branch and there he was: tall, strong, and cute, a little young but funny and game, promising me no young-guy nonsense. Who giggles through the process of ordering contacts? Me, I guess, and it was fantastic. He wanted me to stay until he got off work in an hour, but I gave him my number and went off to finish my errands.
He seemed really excited to see me and we made a plan to get together Sunday night. I was curious to see what would happen. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for sexytimes, but a real date seemed like just the thing.
But by now I recognize the tactics involved in angling for a couch date. He didn’t make any clear plan on where to take me, he texted “You’re so much fun, it won’t matter what we do.” I told him I wanted to go out and do something, but he suggested coming over and watching a movie. When I mentioned that there’s a movie theater near my house, he didn’t text again. I was happy to put my PJs on and go to bed with my chick-lit book.
Yes, it sucks that he bailed, but I think it’s so cool that I persisted with what I really wanted. In the past, I’ve let guys make every excuse until there they were on my couch, even though I really wanted to be dating. Couch dates are fun but they get so claustrophobic when that’s all there is.
So although I don’t know what I’m really ready for, I know I want real dates and public play. I’m a princessy girl who likes to be shown off, and I think that’s something I deserve. Go me.