I wasn’t all that interested in Dave, but I decided to give him a chance in case there was something I overlooked. I did–and still do–believe that dates are like job interviews. Even if you don’t want the commitment, it’s worth the practice for the real thing.
I met Dave at a party. I was chasing around a young, artist-type from the keg to the porch to the living room, and it seemed every time I turned around Dave was right there. After realizing I had no chance with the artist, I started talking to Dave. He was a musician and he fit the mold with a head full of long hair and trendy jeans.
On our date he struck out only minutes after it began. When I arrived at his house he was wearing a worn out Led Zepplin t-shirt and wrinkled khaki shorts–and he was high. I only know this because when he answered the door the pot pipe in his hand was still smoking.
Dave welcomed me and politely gave me a tour of his house. My impression was that he wasn’t doing so bad for a young bachelor. But after I met the five other roommates, I changed my mind because it really wasn’t that great for a single 28-year-old to be sharing a room with the drummer in his band.
Once we sat down for dinner, he sat quietly watching me chew. I felt as if the date would never end. I looked at my watch to see that it was only 7:15pm and then looked out the window to see the sun was shining brighter than I would’ve thought possible. When the waitress came with the check Dave followed my gaze out the window for quite some time. I choreographed a large sigh with the slap of my Visa on the table. A moment later, Dave reached into his back pocket only to bring his hands back to the table empty.
Finally, the date was over.
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2 Comments
This one sounds just like a date or two of mine.
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