So I went out with #8 on Thursday night, or as I will be calling him, “Magic 8 Ball.” I had very high expectations of this one because he seemed really put together, interesting, sophisticated, well traveled, and very attractive. Within an hour of being around him I could confirm that yes, he is all of those things…YAY.
Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? First, he picks me up at the house. He actually gets out of the car and waits at the door (it’s a sad world we live in when small and appreciated gestures like this are unexpected). We went to Hudson for dinner. Hudson is a restaurant in DC that I frequently run by and always make a mental note that I want to go there but have yet to do so. It is a lounge type bar and restaurant, with a contemporary and hip decor that just makes you feel like you’re having a faaabulous time with faaabulous people, dahlin’!
Magic 8 Ball is a gentleman. From the minute we sat down he made sure I was comfortable and happy. Since I am the most indecisive person when it comes to wine and food, he took over. The food was really good, except we were talking so much that we had barely touched the appetizer by the time the entree arrived. Even the entree sat there hanging out for awhile before we could get around to eating it. I was talking a lot (and I know this probably doesn’t come as a shock to you guys) but the combination of his calm and engaging demeanor and the Red Bull I had earlier…well, it was a bit of word vomit on my end. However, he didn’t seem to mind at all. He asked questions and contributed stories of his own. When I stepped away from the table, he asked the server to do a surprise dessert with candles and a port (a dessert wine…it’s fine, I didn’t know what it was either), in honor of my birthday that we never got to celebrate. Go ahead, “awww”, I did too!
We decided to go check out what was going on at the waterfront bars since it was such a nice night. By the time we got there, the bars were closing and we found ourselves walking by the water. “I’m gonna put this out there; if you like it, you can take it, if you don’t, send it right back…I want to
be on you take a dip in the Potomac.” He threw it out there, just like that, and I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not until he said, “There’s your spot, Christie.” Don’t even ask me where. The location is going with me to grave because it really is the perfect spot to…..JUMP IN THE POTOMAC?! Goodness. Little Louis and I were freaking out. He was totally and completely serious. He went to his car and comes back with towels and flip flops for me to wear, “I was just in California for a few weeks; we always keep this stuff in the car.” Hokay, so umm, what? Oh I was scared. Wtf is in the Potomac, it’s cold, I’m with a relative stranger, it’s gotta be illegal, and there’s no way in hell I’m getting in that water…
I got in the water.
We crossed over a little stream of water, via a wooden board, because forget about the pedestrian bridge…that’s for amateurs. We got to the sandy bank and walked out into the water until it was just above our knees. Faaa-reeee-ziiiing but hello was I proud of myself! (Louis was proud of me too). It was awesome and if you know me, you know that I tend to make some bold moves, do some out there stuff, but not usually things that involve limited clothing…in public…in the water…in February. I was waiting for the one of the many cops I know in Georgetown to come down there and shine his lights on us….wouldn’t that have been a real treat! We didn’t stay out there for too long, maybe because we couldn’t feel our toes, but what a rush!
Before continuing on to the next place, since we never got that drink, he asked if it would be okay for us to make a pit stop so he could let his dogs out. No, this was not code for funny business, we actually let his dog and the two dogs he was watching for a few days, out in the yard. By the time we were done, Town Hall had already closed up so we went to the place across the street called Breadsoda. This place is awesome and neither of us knew it even existed. It’s low key and casual but more underground trendy. I noticed that he loosened up a bit and was more playful and flirty. However, he still hadn’t kissed me despite the endless amount of opportunities throughout the night. I couldn’t figure it out. Was he not attracted to me? Was he feeling like I am too young for him? Is he just that polite? Maybe it’s not his style? So about me being an over-analyzer…yeah, about that…
So the time came to bring me home and when we parked out front of the house we saw a lot of activity going on. Girls were coming out of my house, guys were walking into the house, so I invited him in to check out what was going on. Earlier in the night, I mentioned the “tree house,” what we girls in the house call my room, so he asked me to take him up to see it. He made his move and we kissed. Great kiss. Unfortunately, I turned into the 22 year old whack-a-doo that I usually pride myself on NOT being.
Can open…worms everywhere…
Of course I assumed the worst. It made me uncomfortable that he waited until we were in my house to make a move and I started to feel like I was being played. Magic 8 Ball said he just wanted me to feel comfortable and that he was not about doing the expected. Any other guy would’ve kissed me when we were knee deep in the Potomac but he didn’t. I had a really hard time feeling secure, despite all of the fantastic events of the evening because my brain went to “wow, is he really just here for a hook up?” Then I thought, “Am I being crazy?” Ugh. I’m fed so much BS from guys all the g.d. time that I don’t even believe someone when he could be telling the truth. I also liked him and since that is a feeling I haven’t experienced in a long time, I didn’t want to do anything to make him think of me as a stupid 22 year old college girl. Well, great job Chris, you managed to do exactly that by flipping the eff out! Is it too late to be a man? Just askin’…
We finally moved away from the serious talk and thankfully, Magic 8 Ball is quite the comedian. He broke up the awkwardness with a few funny one liners and sarcastic remarks. We parted on a good note, “Hey so when you blog about tonight, can I suggest some nicknames for myself?” He rattled off a few names like Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp but I told him the nickname always depends on how I’m feeling about you in that moment.
M8B: “Would you like a ride to the train station tomorrow?”
Me: “I’d love one!”
M8B: “Ok so what you do is, walk to Wisconsin Avenue, put your thumb up, and someone will pick you up.”
Friday morning he arrived at the house to take me to Union Station. Heyyyrrroooo, he looked so friggen cute! I know I like him because I was doing my nervous bit where I talk and move around a lot, make it look like I’m busy, and think my roommates are extra funny. I hope it wasn’t too obvious (wishful thinking!) I intended to avoid the crazy part of the night before and just be happy and normal. I felt kind of silly about the way I reacted and I didn’t want him to put me on his loony toon list. In the car, we made small talk about Kombucha tea, which is delicious by the way, but then he asked me about the previous night. He was rightfully questioning whether or not I had a good time based on my emo moment. I let him know I had an amazing time and I’m pretty positive he believed me.
Sorry, just had to let that out. We were in touch on Saturday afternoon and everything was completely fun and happy. Why am I such a twinkie sometimes? I’m not happy when the date is a dud and when it’s a great date, I over-think it because I like him and end up feeling like an idiot. I chose to write “feeling like an idiot” instead of “looking like an idiot” because now that I’ve had a few days to sit on it, I really don’t think he caught on to how crazy I felt. I guess I managed to keep most of it up in my head and only mildly acted like a whack-a-do. Does that make sense? Anyway, he’s got real Jeter potential and here I am acting like a AAA player. Looks like the tables have turned and now I’m the one who needs to step up her game!