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My First Official Non-Date

I am out on an evening I do not want to be out.  You know those nights you’re leaning against the wall so long you think you might actually be holding the wall up?  A night when everyone around you is laughing, wearing beer goggles or flat out swapping spit on the over zealous dance floor?  Yes it seems to be one of those nights. 

I am over the scene, not to mention the morning hours are approaching.  I stopped drinking at least fifteen minutes ago and am spent with being out.  I’ve had enthralling conversation with exactly zero guys and as always been complimented on my hair by two girls, great. Can’t a guy ever love my hair? 

Continuing to hold up the wall, I desperately scan the crowd for my friends.  Even a $50 taxi ride is worth not being here for another second.  I peer through the dance floor, seeing the partially dressed women, now dancing with pools of sweat and makeup dripping down their faces.  I am disgusted with the men performing their pelvic thrust moves behind these shameless drunk chics.

That’s when I look up and see him walking towards me, unclothing me slowly with his eyes.  He’s certainly cute too!  Remember, I haven’t been drinking for at least fifteen minutes so my beer goggle vision must be 70/30, (you decide which way it swings).  He has seducing eyes, hell they are undressing me!  Plus a nice smile, a good grill you might say.  And as I keep working my way up I see his full head of naturally curly hair. 

Seductively, this great hair, deep eye, straight grill man comes close enough to whisper in my ear, “I love your beautiful hair.”  Now this is typically a hook, line and sinker for me.  To say I am amused and slightly interested is an understatement.  I guess I don’t need to take a taxi home right this second.  I’ll at least hang around for one more beer, at which his buddy buys for me immediately. 

His name is Kurt.  He doesn’t seem overly intoxicated and I quickly learn that he has just moved back into town after getting his heart broken.  Awesome, how can I not want to help this bleeding heart?  Kurt is unconvinced that he will ever find ‘the one’ with beautiful curly hair who has her shit together.  Could this be a match made in heaven?  I think so! 

After two cold beers, which his friend bought both of, and an hour of a relatively educated conversation, Kurt asks for my number.  Just because I swore off giving out my number last weekend, doesn’t mean I should miss this golden opportunity.  This is different.  I’m not smashed for one.  We haven’t had a sloppy make out session.  I know what I am doing...by at least 70 percent!  I give Kurt my number.

Kurt follows the rules and calls suitably two days later.  I follow the rules by letting it go to voicemail. “Hey Jenny, this is Kurt.  It was so wonderful meeting such a real girl, with I must say gorgeous curls.  Let’s get together soon!”   He proves to be persistent…and interested, following up later that same week, asking me out for the upcoming Friday. 

“Of course!” I reply to my voicemail, “Yes! Thanks for asking!”

Kurt thinks we should meet at his house.  I suppose I have the impression we’ll meet somewhere near my place.  As he reminds me though, I do live a whopping thirteen miles away from the party center.  It is better if I come his way.  We agree to meet outside a popular coffee house downtown. 

While driving, fixing my makeup and glancing in the rearview mirror to spot check myself, my phone rings.  “Hey can we just meet outside my house on the street and drive down together?  Parking is really bad downtown.” 

This makes sense in my head, or well it sort of does.  Wait, does it make sense?  “Sure, why not, I’ll come there”. 

Pulling onto his street, I spot Kurt standing on the sidewalk, hands in pockets, wearing an oversized leather jacket.  Is that him?  Hmmm, I don’t recall him looking like that.  He looks a little bit creepy.  Well let’s give this a shot.  I’m trying to be open minded and after all, I am dating, right?  As I step out of my car, assuming he will drive, I hear, “Oh, I actually got a really great parking spot outside my house and well, they are so hard to find late night, would you mind driving?”  Is this red flag number one or two?  You decide as there are plenty more to come.