Peach had a date last night!
Happily, as first dates go, this was was a solid 7.5 to 8. Not too shabby. Good dinner. Good conversation. No awkward pauses. Laughs. Flirting. Lil’ bit of snuggling on the coffee shop couch. Even a few respectable good night smooches.
Do I expect that this is THE guy? No. But why the hell would I? It was one date.
Why is that last line highlighted like it’s a BFD? Because for me, it is. I must confess, I am guilty of being a serial dater-of-only-one-man-at-a-time.
Talking with a friend recently made me realize that it’s OKAY to date for dating’s sake. That dating does not equal hyper-analyzing of every bit of male minutiae to determine if he has long-term potential. She reminded me that it’s 100% fine to date for fun. To meet people. To hone in more on what I can accept in a potential partner vs. what may be an absolute dealbreaker. But to accomplish all that, I need to be open to the idea of dating without expectations or assumptions. Dating for entirely selfish reasons. And yes… deep breath…. seeing more than one person at a time.
Wait, I have to learn to juggle? Shit.
If I can learn to adopt this new way of thinking, the hope is that along the way I’ll learn more about myself in this damn journey that sometimes makes me want to just dive into a bottle of wine and say fuck it all.
And look, I guess the very worst case scenario is that I gain plenty of material to plaster up here for you lovely people. Take tonight’s potential shitshow, for example.
Speed dating, Round TWO! Round one can be found here. For this go-around the age range is younger than the last – I think it’s 23-37. God help me… 23?!?!… nothankyouthisismerunningforthehills. But it’s the same deal: You’re allowed 5 minutes with each person. Women stay put at their table. Men rotate to the next table when the bell rings. When it’s over, you choose which ones you’d be up to hang out with again. If they choose you too, you’re given their contact info.
Wish me good luck, send good juju, cross your fingers/toes, or whatever works for you. If you don’t feel like doing any of that, send me bad vibes so I can write some ridiculously snarky posts about it.
Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have to go fight with my closet and find something to wear.