Dating, part 9: first date back

The return – Violet’s advice, my self-assessment, the decision to try again – was a triumph. I wanted to let it be that in its own post.

Because the first date after my break? Not a triumph.

Dale called and we had a quick conversation to set up a time to meet. Time doesn’t change some things, so I had received an envelope 3 days after I sent my letter. The wait for these 2 referrals was very short. The difference, the time, was that there was no question of calling them to set things up. I was relaxed, a bit removed, and not willing to take the lead.

I also decided that I hated meeting a date somewhere. It just started the experience with this embarrassed, awkward what if he’s late, what if we don’t find each other, how will we know?! vibe. It didn’t work for me at all, so I decided that I’d have this round of boys pick me up at my apartment.

Dale arrived a bit late, but he was coming from out of town. Meeting at my place worked out really well – I was much more comfortable and at ease, so it make the beginning of dates a lot better for me.

I’ll mention clothing again, because if I can offer any advice to gentleman who must endure a blind date, it would be to dress appropriately. Dryden mentioned a button-down shirt – that’s a good idea. T-shirts that are too tight, dirty or worn thin – that’s a bad idea. Dale added to his bad idea with jeans that were really short and heavy boots. There’s something disconcerting about seeing skin between jeans and boots.

We were going to the botanical gardens (not my idea, actually, but apparently that’s what I do on blind dates), and he told me that since he drove to my apartment from out of town, it was only fair that I drive to the garden.

Aren’t you charming? I thought, and headed to my garage rather than the parking lot where his car waited. It was tough at first – he responded to my questions with one word answers, and I was straining to think of something new to ask.

Remembering my goal of relaxing and being more laid back, I decided to drive in silence. If he wanted to talk, he could. Putting forth the effort to draw someone out at this point seemed unnecessary. It’s not my job to teach you how to date like a human, I thought, then forced myself back into a peaceful calm.

Either he worked past his nerves or tired of the silence, because he started into one of those male monologues that define so many of my first dates. If I may offer another tip, guys: bad idea. The goal is, or should be, conversation – some sort of give and take. If it’s all one sided (read: you never let me speak), then I get bored, start thinking of other things, like how I’d rather not see you again. So I listened as much as I could, all the while congratulating myself on my mood.

He followed me around the garden – no ducks there either – and when I was finished looking around, I asked if he was ready to leave. We headed back to the car. And Dale opened up.

He chattered excitedly about D&D. While I wondered what D&D meant, I decided I’d ask when he stopped being so thrilled about it. It was nice, really, how much he enjoyed whatever it was. A club? Some sort of game?

“So last time I was a wizard, but this time, I’m a warrior!”

Wait. What?

“I have this alliance with another warrior, though he’s not as powerful as me. If we gather enough power, we can conquer! And defeat the monster!”

Again, I think, seriously. Wait. What?

“Dale,” I finally interrupted, “what does D&D mean?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look at me as I slowed to turn a corner. His mouth dropped open and there was such a look of dismay and shock - I smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry. It’s great you like it so much. But I’m really not familiar.”

“It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

Wait. What? Really? I haven’t heard of that since grade school. Do adults play that? For real?

“I used to be the DM.” He said, having trouble getting back into the flow of his D&D discourse, perhaps convinced of my inherent evil nature because of my ignorance.

“Oh?” As he continued to stare at me, I tried to ease him back into the discussion – at least he’d been happy when talking about this game he so enjoyed. “What does that involve?”

“We used my basement to play.”

“Ah.”

“It took a lot of time though – writing the scripts, preparing the basement, making sure everyone knew the times and characters. When I got a job, I had to let someone else take over. We still use my basement sometimes though.”

“That’s nice. That you’re still involved. It’s good to let someone else be in charge sometimes though. What job did you get?”

“I opened a store with a friend.”

“Really? What’d you sell?”

“D&D stuff. Comics. Figures.”

Of course you did.

We arrived back at my apartment, and I parked in front rather than downstairs. I reached out to shake his hand, ready to start with my very nice to meet you, thanks for spending the afternoon with me spiel.

He looked at my hand, and asked for water.

“I’m sorry?”

“Could I have a glass of water? Before I go?”

“Oh. I think I have some bottles inside.” Debating the rudeness of asking him to wait on the front lawn, I couldn’t make myself invite him in either. So I turned to walk inside and he followed.

“I like to have bottles chilled. That way, if I have to be somewhere, I can just take it and go.” I said, trying to hint that our time together was over.

I frowned as I watched him sit on the couch, petting my dog.

I couldn’t figure out what to say to make him leave. Honestly – I was at a loss. So I went and got water for myself, then perched on my loveseat.

“I don’t play D&D all the time, so I guess it’s OK you don’t know about it. Sometimes I have friends over and we game.”

Is "game" a verb?

“Everybody brings their TVs and we hook them together and game for days.”

Wait. What?

“It’s really challenging and fun.”

“So, wait. Everyone brings over their actual television sets,” I pointed at mine, just to be sure we were all on the same page, “and you network them, and play video games.” At his nod, I continued. “For days.”

“Yeah, there’s this one game…”

And so it went for hours. I couldn’t figure out a way to make him leave. I kept saying I had things to do, so perhaps it was time to go. But then he had to use the bathroom, returning to my couch despite my position at the door. I wasn’t hinting – I was blatantly telling him to go, but he’d always find some excuse to stay.

Short of saying, “For the love of God, get out!” I wasn’t sure what else to try.

Then I saw a neighbor outside with her dog. She was peeking inside since I told her I had a blind date. I wanted her to watch out for me a little bit, and she was pleased with her opportunity to hear about it afterward.

“Oh,” she said, peering through the screen. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“No, no!” I said desperately. “Dale was just leaving – I told him I had plans to walk the dog with you!”

“Right.” She nodded seriously. “Our dogs really like each other.”

When he continued to sit on the couch, she looked at me.

“Dale, I’m leaving now for a walk. Which means you have to go home. Now.”

“Actually, I wanted to stop by Best Buy and get a copy of the Matrix. I wore my old DVD out. It doesn’t even play anymore. Can you believe that?!”

Dude, I thought, you have no idea how completely easy it is for me to believe exactly that. In fact, perhaps you should buy several copies just to be safe.

“I’m going to burn extra copies so I don’t have to buy another one later.”

“Good plan.” I said, already out the door and waiting for him to follow. “I need to go now.”

He finally left, and I walked with my neighbor and her dog.

“How long did that take?” She asked, putting her arm around my shoulders. “5 hours?”

“Forever.” I replied, “It feels like I spent spent days in some basement pretending to be a frog or something.”

Though tired, I felt good – confident and strong and capable. Perhaps the next one, Dennis, would be better, I told myself. After all, once you start walking forward, it’s easy to continue. It seems like starting would be the hardest part, and I sincerely hoped I was right.

Note: Upon reflection, this might read as unfairly harsh on Dale. While D&D isn't something I know much about, I'm going to venture a guess that I'll never be overly familiar with it. So no offense was meant to any players (warriors, wizards, what have you) out there. As always, it has a lot to do with your approach when it comes to trying to date me.

Oh, and Dale called later and I made my excuses. I couldn't go through that again.