I used to think being called cute is an insult. It's a "safe" compliment. It is also a common compliment for puppies and babies. BUT, it's preferred to sexy. I've only come to this conclusion THIS last week of April. I'm surprised my eyes haven't rolled into the back of my head. We'll start with the guy I was going out with when Mr. Blues Clues from last post texted me about "adding to the party" completely oblivious to the fact that I was not playing pool in a t-length dress 42 minutes from my house for "fun." This guy we will call Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment. This guy was more attractive in person than pictures and certainly carried himself as such. His eyes scanned my thin, pencil shaped dress several times before the words "wow, you look great" fell out his mouth. The typical banter commenced as I sipped on his southern accent that didn't match his face and a chocolate rum drink shaken, not stirred. He bought the bartenders a round and referenced his friends that kept illuminating his phone. "Everyone is trying to hang when I'm in town" he explained. "God, you're so hot," he muttered as I rolled my eyes. Speaking of rolls, cue waitress stage left with our sushi rolls. He picked at his plain California rolls, eating only 4 pieces by the time I had consumed my complex order that claimed to be spicy, yet to no avail. "Let's go play poooool." He pleaded with emphasis on the double o's almost like a Brit. "In this dress?" "Yeah, why not?" Another eye roll and I was on my way to his souped up black Jeep in which he opened my door for me. *Tallied 1 for the visitor team* But then, removed the tally with his music selection. It was a playlist of rap "munchies" as I heard my younger sister refer to them once. Kodac Black and other young voices I'd never heard of. I had no concern he would keep driving and take me somewhere dangerous, never to return even though now I was miles from my car in a city 48 minutes from my house. I guess this comes with dating for 6 years. WOW that long. Jeez. He leaned in once he parked and I was curious how this one would feel. There's something about a first kiss that is thrilling. So many questions to be answered. Will it be sweet? Will it be slow and intentional or sloppy and hurried? What about the size of his lips-- mine are small so I need ones a bit more robust. Will he use too much tongue? Will he use it or park it in my mouth like it's a garage? As the thoughts flooded, so did the memory that we had kissed before. Rewind 2 nights. His messages were persistent. We had conversed on snapchat from a mutual swipe on FB Dating (the most effortless dating app to initiate when plastered) but it never formulated into meeting. He claimed that he usually "drops" people that don't make time to meet up but there was "something different about you and I don't know why." Color me NOT flattered. That's more of a line than the yellow ones on 35E. I don't know if it was the peanut butter whiskey I was sipping or the loneliness that kept calling but I gave him my address and my bed time so he knew he had approximately 90 minutes to converse with me and then skedaddle. .....guess his country accent was rubbing off on me. It was much more pronounced in person and I loved the contrast. He dressed preppy and clean cut but had a country twang and a smirk that made one part of your brain wonder... Banter was instant and after a few hugs, he lifted me and leaned in. I held my breath and wasn't disappointed. His lips were much bigger than mine (kinda pouty) and admittedly softer than mine. I shewed him out of my house before it got too steamy and he hounded me about "a real date" until I said yes the following Thursday. BACK TO CURRENT DAY: The kiss came with his right hand on my left hip. I leaned in and enjoyed the big lips that made mine feel almost held, embraced. We stayed there for just a moment and then my hand fell into his fairly small but significantly darker hand and we made our way to the busy brick bar. The energy poured onto the street as we walked the stairs inside. I saw a sea of green across the open floor plan of the bar with Stars fans energized with the second period in full swing projected on the front wall of the bar. My date led me to the bar ordering himself a jack and coke while I took a chance with a strawberry daiquiri. I figured I should stay with rum and I was still kinda hungry from the sushi so I figured the drink could meet me halfway. We made our way to the pool table where he broke the balls? I am very unfamiliar with pool terminology here.... I'm much better with swimming pools. lol I have lessons I'm giving today, actually. Pool beans. When I leaned to aim the cue ball toward one of the solids, I felt his eyes. I looked back and a lustful look was plastered on his face. I was actually surprised it was not complete with drool, that's how deep this look was. "Can I help you?" I blurted, popping my hip out and greeting it with my fist, creating a triangle with my arm. Stirring, he shrugged. "You could." Agitated, I pushed the issue. "What? You don't want me to be attracted to you?" Taking a step back I replied, "yeah but there's more than just looks..." "You're so hot," he said, stepping toward me. I retreated to the other side of the pool table and took my shot and missed miserably... I guess like him. I sipped the worst daiquiri I've ever had, even pre-21 years and used that as my break from the tension he was single-handedly created. Begging the bartender to make ANYTHING else, I apologized and slipped him a couple dollars cash. I returned to my lustful date with Jameson Orange with a splash of soda. I played off his blunt stares and played the game.... and pool too. We played one more game and then agreed to go back to other section of bars where my car was awaiting me respectfully, not lustfully. I could hear the guy on Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment's phone say, "yeah it's me and you know." My date replied, "oh your girl?" "Not really," the guy on the phone responded. Oooo I could not wait to get out of here. "Okay, we're headed there." He closed out his tab and then grabbed my hand and led me to the door. I mentioned work tomorrow and my long drive and he tried to coax me to stay. Once he closed my car door and he secured himself in his, is when he said it. "You know, I usually don't talk to girls that don't sleep with me on the first date." I looked at him like he just blew out my birthday candles and sneezed on the cake. "Then I'll happily get out when we get to my car." "No, but don't you think that means something that I'm still here with you?" For some reason, he took my dumbfounded face as permission to proceed. "I mean I have so much fun with you but sex is important eventually." "This is our first date and I'm just not that kinda girl," I barked. "I'm just saying you should take that as a compliment. Girls approach me all the time and I am staying with you even though you don't want to do that." And as if this statement wasn't repulsive enough, he continued with "there's just something about you." Upon getting to my car, a panic attack commenced.I would like to say that this next part is shameful and I should either omit it or have reconsidered sharing this entire story but it wouldn't be datesandcakes if I didn't tell the whole story no matter how it makes me look. Here comes the unbelievable response to the whole situation..... dun. dun. DUNNN. He refused to leave me with the panic attack happening. "What can I do? I don't want you to drive like this." I tried to explain that my attacks have no triggers and no estimated duration. He asked if I wanted him to sit with me and said he didn't care his friend was waiting so I nodded. He sat in the passenger's side of my best friend's ride.... oh wait, that's a song. He sat on my passenger's side and I KISSED HIM. WHAT THE GREAT SCOTT, MARTY IS GOING ON? The heaviness and struggle with my breathing continued so I took breaks and then told him I just needed to get home. The panic rode home with me and sat on my chest for hours before I could fall asleep. I wanted to end this post with hot independent girl energy saying, This is the only "Sale" I'm on:But... I waited a few attempts until agreeing on a second date (third meeting) with Mr. You-Should-Take-This-As-A-Compliment. Stay tuned for part 2 and the recipe.
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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