The Doctor....
We'd been emailing each other for a few months and finally decided to meet. We were supposed to get together for ice cream on Easter Sunday but I had to cancel because I had dinner plans. About a week later, I text The Doctor and said that I was going to try to get tickets to see Norah Jones in Tarrytown that week. The Doctor asked if it was an invitation. I said "Well, if I get the tickets and you like Norah, then, yes, it is."
I got the tickets. The bonus was that they were only $35.00 each and it was kind of a secret event.
Wednesday arrived and I got all dolled up. I wore my silk navy Boden dress, a blue Moschino sweater from Target, navy blue tights and my John Fluevog Bondgirl boots in a weathered red. My hair was long and straight. I wore my light blue boiled wool coat over it and carried my Glenda Gies olive/blue/ivory fabric purse with the gorgeous new pin attached to the front.
The Doctor and I decided that I would head up to Harlem and drive us up to Tarrytown. The Doctor was running a little bit late and I was pretty early. I parked my car near a beautiful cemetery on a hill across from the Hudson River. The view was beautiful. The cemetery was surrounded by field stone and most of the headstones looked to be old. I wasn't able to get inside because they'd already locked the gates. I took some pictures from the outside. I have an odd obsession with old cemeteries.
The Doctor asked if there was food in the theater. I said that most theaters have snacks and beverages. I mentioned that we could get something to go or grab a bite afterwards. I picked The Doctor up on Amsterdam and 155th St. Although we exchanged current pictures, we were still relieved that the other wasn't a weirdo. The Doctor said "When I left you that voicemail, I was going to pretend that I had a bad speech impediment." The Doctor wore Khaki pants, a cool shirt, a light jacket and cowboy boots. The Doctor was smaller than I imagined but it wasn't an issue.
The Doctor was adorable and showed up with a partial box of Sees Chocolates. Some of the pieces were bitten in half. I was offered a piece and didn't know which to choose. I asked if there was a chart and The Doctor said "No, but you can take a bite and that if you don't like it, you can put it back." I thought that was odd but cute. Who does that?!!
The drive up was pleasant and we talked about a lot of different topics. Family, work, music, dating stuff, etc. The Doctor had lived with a girl for a while but it didn't work out. We arrived at the theater and I made my way to the restroom. The Doctor took my coat and found our seats. I picked up a couple of bottles of water and Twizzlers on my way back and it was met with a nice smile and a "Thank you for being so thoughtful." We happily shared the licorice throughout the show.
Norah Jones's voice was beautiful - a 10. She got a 2 out of 10 for her lack of interaction between songs. I love being at a small venue and hearing about the songs and the banter between the musician and the band and/or the audience. It makes it more personal and it definitely would've been especially nice at this show given its intimacy. Regardless of that, we enjoyed the music. The Doctor didn't hesitate to whisper in my ear between songs or hush the couple to my right who were yapping too much and too loud. I admired and appreciated the gesture.
When the show was over, we decided to grab a bite to eat. There was a little burger place a couple of storefronts away. It was filled with local hipsters. We ordered our burgers and beverages and had a nice time talking. We drew out the floor plans to our residences and talked about our pets. We were sitting next to each other, as opposed to across from one another, and by the end of our meal we were almost forehead to forehead. It was really going well. The Doctor took care of the bill. We could've chatted all night long but, sadly, The Doctor had to get up early the next day for work.
We left the burger joint and The Doctor said "It's kind of cold and I think I wore the wrong jacket. I'll just put my arm through yours." We got a couple of odd looks but I really didn't care. We happily walked back to my car arm in arm. When we arrived at my car, I thought The Doctor was going to kiss me. My heart was racing a bit. I was so nervous because I was very attracted to The Doctor and I didn't want to blow it.
The drive back to the City wasn't long enough. I wanted to hang out and gab all night with The Doctor. We pulled up to The Doctor's building and I had butterflies in my stomach. We nervously made small talk about the block and the neighbors. Sadly, The Doctor said "I have to go. Thank you. I had a nice time." or something like that. Then she leaned in towards me and gave me a long, sweet kiss on the lips. We were both smiling before, during and after. When I got about a block away, The Doctor sent me a text which read "You're so pretty. Text me when you get home." I smiled all the way home.
Update:
The Doctor and I exchanged texts and a few weeks later, we had a second date. This is exciting as it's uncommon because I rarely get a second date. Setting it up was like pulling teeth as The Doctor had a busier schedule than I did. I wanted to yell (via upper case letters in my text) "Just pick a day, a time and where you want to meet."
The Doctor and I finally decided to meet in Queens at London Lennie's, a seafood place in Rego Park. I wore a tight fitting olive green Loft dress and an ivory shawl sweater that I got down in Asbury Park. My hair was curly and I wore "Chestnut" which are black leather shoes with a snakeskin print t-strap and by Bobbi Blu. I carried the same purse as I had on our first date as it matched perfectly.
We were both an hour late due to traffic and my miscalculation of distance but I neither of us was kept waiting, so it was okay. When I arrived, she stood up and we kissed each other on the lips and gave little hugs. This was met with a double take from a couple at the adjacent table. Big deal. The Doctor seemed surprised that my hair was so curly. Sadly, I don't think she liked it very much but, unfortunately, the weather plays a huge part in how it looks (and, according to guys I work with, my mood). She mentioned that it was "fancy" which is why I wore a dress. I would've been perfectly happy in jeans, like she was wearing.
The Doctor suggested we order a bunch of clams and oysters and split dinner. I didn't realize there would be such distinct flavors of the oysters depending on the location from which they came. It was fun to sample them and chose our favorite.
The Doctor's demeanor was slightly different than our first date. The way she sat confused me because I couldn't tell if it was her being more open or more distant. We had nice conversation and I even let her do a wallet clean out, which was pretty personal. We split the bill and walked outside. The Doctor was parked on a dark side street and I didn't want her to walk there alone. I wasn't sure if she wanted me to walk her to her car but I did. She drove me back to my car. We had a nice, smiling lip kiss good bye and that was it. I think she text me that I should let her know when I got home. All in all it was nice but confusing at the same time.
There's a little bit more but I'm too tired to write about it now. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Piercings
Scene: Small, Local Grocery Store
Characters:
Girl Cashier: Sweet, Teenage Hipster with light Brown Eyes
Boy Cashier: Cute, Teenage Hispanic Boy
Customer: Tired,
Girl Cashier wears a light brown puff skirt, a muted dark green shirt, a brown cardigan sweater covered by her work apron. She sports an off white floppy wool hat on the back of her head.
Boy Cashier wears jeans, two teeshirts (a short sleeve over a long sleeve one) a baseball hat with a curved brim. The apron covers the design on his shirt.
Customer wears a blue wool coat with a wool brooch, a pink cotton scarf, nerdy eyeglasses in pale olive green, jeans, colorful clogs and carries a small pink wristlet.
Girl Cashier: [politely] $16.46 please.
Customer [gives her a $20 bill].
Girl Cashier: [gives back change] Thank you. Have a good day.
Customer: [smiles] Thank you. You, too.
Girl Cashier: [hands customer her two bags] Have a good day.
[seemingly out of nowhere] At one time I had about 5 piercings.
Boy Cashier [disinterested] Where? [and walks away from the register]
Girl Cashier: [exchanges odd smiles with customer] Have a good day.
Customer: You, too.
Characters:
Girl Cashier: Sweet, Teenage Hipster with light Brown Eyes
Boy Cashier: Cute, Teenage Hispanic Boy
Customer: Tired,
Girl Cashier wears a light brown puff skirt, a muted dark green shirt, a brown cardigan sweater covered by her work apron. She sports an off white floppy wool hat on the back of her head.
Boy Cashier wears jeans, two teeshirts (a short sleeve over a long sleeve one) a baseball hat with a curved brim. The apron covers the design on his shirt.
Customer wears a blue wool coat with a wool brooch, a pink cotton scarf, nerdy eyeglasses in pale olive green, jeans, colorful clogs and carries a small pink wristlet.
Girl Cashier: [politely] $16.46 please.
Customer [gives her a $20 bill].
Girl Cashier: [gives back change] Thank you. Have a good day.
Customer: [smiles] Thank you. You, too.
Girl Cashier: [hands customer her two bags] Have a good day.
[seemingly out of nowhere] At one time I had about 5 piercings.
Boy Cashier [disinterested] Where? [and walks away from the register]
Girl Cashier: [exchanges odd smiles with customer] Have a good day.
Customer: You, too.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Dreams That Make You Say "HUH?"
02/21/2012
I had a dream that we got new cars at work. hahaahahahaha
Maybe tonight I'll dream that our contract will get settled.
02/22/2012
A rice eating contest?
Who could eat more handfuls of rice and the winner got $20,000? WTF was that all about?
Incidentally, I won. I ate 8 handfuls of cooked rice but got disqualified because I didn't properly register, so the girl who ate 7 handfuls won.
I had a dream that we got new cars at work. hahaahahahaha
Maybe tonight I'll dream that our contract will get settled.
02/22/2012
A rice eating contest?
Who could eat more handfuls of rice and the winner got $20,000? WTF was that all about?
Incidentally, I won. I ate 8 handfuls of cooked rice but got disqualified because I didn't properly register, so the girl who ate 7 handfuls won.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Saturday Night's Dream
What do you think a dream means when the following is involved:
A Gazebo
The Entrance Way and Living Room (with 1960s Decor)
A Wedding to Take Place in Said Gazebo
A Short A-Line Crochet Wedding Dress
A Tall, Red and Black Paper Tiara
A Tree
Bird of Paradise Flowers
A Japanese Style Floral Arrangement (for the Gazebo)
My Dad (who is deceased)
My Nan (who is deceased)
My Ex-husband (not deceased but re-married with 2 kids)
Hawaiian Shirts
A Blizzard During the Summer (thus delaying the Wedding Service)
My Girlfriends in Pastel Colored Jackie O Style Suits
Oh.... and Me in the Wedding Dress with an Updo and the Tiara (that made my forehead look big)
Seriously, all of those things were in one dream.
A Gazebo
The Entrance Way and Living Room (with 1960s Decor)
A Wedding to Take Place in Said Gazebo
A Short A-Line Crochet Wedding Dress
A Tall, Red and Black Paper Tiara
A Tree
Bird of Paradise Flowers
A Japanese Style Floral Arrangement (for the Gazebo)
My Dad (who is deceased)
My Nan (who is deceased)
My Ex-husband (not deceased but re-married with 2 kids)
Hawaiian Shirts
A Blizzard During the Summer (thus delaying the Wedding Service)
My Girlfriends in Pastel Colored Jackie O Style Suits
Oh.... and Me in the Wedding Dress with an Updo and the Tiara (that made my forehead look big)
Seriously, all of those things were in one dream.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Death of a Date with a Salesman
He looked like a big hunk of a man from his little picture online and had a few witty things scrawled on his page. He was looking for someone to play hooky with the following day because it was supposed to be 55 degrees (it's the middle of winter in NY). Hey, I'm game - and spontaneous, like him.
He shall be called The Salesman....
The Salesman said he was 6'4" and separated with 2 kids. Not a big deal to me because sometimes divorces take a long time. I emailed him, he responded the next day. We text each other and eventually made plans to have lunch the following day.
The next day arrived. The Salesman text me in the morning saying that he would be in my area because he had a couple of sales calls nearby. I'm not big on having dates in my own town but I didn't feel like driving far to meet him. So, I pulled on a pair of medium dyed jean, a black top and those fabulous Freebird by Steven Heathrow boots. I wore my aqua Boden wool jacket and carried my Glenda Gies coordinating purse. My hair was straight.
12 noon arrived and I was actually on time (which would shock those who know me). The Salesman was, too. His profile picture made him look broad, tough and bear-like, which I love. In reality, The Salesman was more narrow, fragile and stork-like. He was indeed very tall and his legs looked kind of wobbly, like Bambi when goes ice skating with Thumper. I was surprised that they withstood his body weight. Fortunately, it wasn't a windy day.
The first restaurant I chose was not open yet, nor was the second that was a couple of blocks away. As we walked to my third choice, I noticed that he was a bit pigeon-toed, which also made his knees bend in a bit. He carried his Tablet like this was going to be a business meeting. He answered an important business call. Naturally, I saw someone I knew as we walked.
The Salesman and I ordered lunch, he paid (which was nice - and unexpected these days) and we sat down by the window, so the world could see me. He gabbed away and I saw that his teeth were kind of weird. Kind of short for such a tall man and he had something black in between two of them. I didn't say anything because I'm sure when he got back in the car he'd notice it and remove it promptly.
The Salesman was certainly not at a loss for words. He talked up a storm while I nodded, pleasantly smiled and thought to myself "When do I get invited into this conversation?". Every event that he discussed ended with the whole gang finishing off lots of beer and spirits - just the kind of guy a sober girl wants to date. I'm not opposed to someone having a drink or a good time but when alcohol is the main theme of social gathering, I'm kinda not diggin' that. He also rambled on about how he liked tradition and doing the same things year after year. Um, that doesn't sound too spontaneous to me.
The Salesman droned on about his job in Sales, which would explain his obnoxious demeanor. I tried not to yawn or leave the restaurant. He went on to talk about how he has family members in law enforcement and told some tired old stories of his encounters with the police. He was obviously not the favorite son in his house. He then discussed the big one: his separation, which actually wasn't an official separation at all. Funny, to me "separation" means being separate, not being together, living apart but to The Salesman, it meant "She cheated on me, so I am free to do whatever I want and still sleep in the same bed, but I will tell everyone I sleep in the guest room." Well that's the impression I got when he mentioned several times that he was sleeping in the guest room. He seethed as he spoke of his soon-to-be ex-wife and didn't mind telling me that it was going to be a nasty divorce, a very nasty divorce. Yeah, that's something that I want to be a part of. Nothing like a nasty divorce to spice up a new relationship.
The Salesman eventually took a breath and I decided that the pleasantries were done. I quickly spoke up while he inhaled and said that I have a bunch of errands to run or some nonsense like that and that I had to get going. He left his garbage on the table, so I picked it up and tossed it for him. Gotta love a man who doesn't pick up after himself. We walked to my car and I kind of turned towards him and said "Thank you. It was nice to meet you. Bye." I got in the car, shut the door and said out loud "Geeze. How boring was that? He's not even blog-worthy"
I headed home and decided that I had to get needles and thread from the five and dime and while I was there, I'd pop into my favorite frozen yogurt shop for a dose of deliciousness. As I got onto the sidewalk, I saw a co-worker who said "Hey. What's up? Whatcha doin'?" to which I replied "I just had a date." He saw me walking towards the variety store and laughingly responded "I guess it didn't go too well." I answered "Ummm, not so much."
He shall be called The Salesman....
The Salesman said he was 6'4" and separated with 2 kids. Not a big deal to me because sometimes divorces take a long time. I emailed him, he responded the next day. We text each other and eventually made plans to have lunch the following day.
The next day arrived. The Salesman text me in the morning saying that he would be in my area because he had a couple of sales calls nearby. I'm not big on having dates in my own town but I didn't feel like driving far to meet him. So, I pulled on a pair of medium dyed jean, a black top and those fabulous Freebird by Steven Heathrow boots. I wore my aqua Boden wool jacket and carried my Glenda Gies coordinating purse. My hair was straight.
12 noon arrived and I was actually on time (which would shock those who know me). The Salesman was, too. His profile picture made him look broad, tough and bear-like, which I love. In reality, The Salesman was more narrow, fragile and stork-like. He was indeed very tall and his legs looked kind of wobbly, like Bambi when goes ice skating with Thumper. I was surprised that they withstood his body weight. Fortunately, it wasn't a windy day.
The first restaurant I chose was not open yet, nor was the second that was a couple of blocks away. As we walked to my third choice, I noticed that he was a bit pigeon-toed, which also made his knees bend in a bit. He carried his Tablet like this was going to be a business meeting. He answered an important business call. Naturally, I saw someone I knew as we walked.
The Salesman and I ordered lunch, he paid (which was nice - and unexpected these days) and we sat down by the window, so the world could see me. He gabbed away and I saw that his teeth were kind of weird. Kind of short for such a tall man and he had something black in between two of them. I didn't say anything because I'm sure when he got back in the car he'd notice it and remove it promptly.
The Salesman was certainly not at a loss for words. He talked up a storm while I nodded, pleasantly smiled and thought to myself "When do I get invited into this conversation?". Every event that he discussed ended with the whole gang finishing off lots of beer and spirits - just the kind of guy a sober girl wants to date. I'm not opposed to someone having a drink or a good time but when alcohol is the main theme of social gathering, I'm kinda not diggin' that. He also rambled on about how he liked tradition and doing the same things year after year. Um, that doesn't sound too spontaneous to me.
The Salesman droned on about his job in Sales, which would explain his obnoxious demeanor. I tried not to yawn or leave the restaurant. He went on to talk about how he has family members in law enforcement and told some tired old stories of his encounters with the police. He was obviously not the favorite son in his house. He then discussed the big one: his separation, which actually wasn't an official separation at all. Funny, to me "separation" means being separate, not being together, living apart but to The Salesman, it meant "She cheated on me, so I am free to do whatever I want and still sleep in the same bed, but I will tell everyone I sleep in the guest room." Well that's the impression I got when he mentioned several times that he was sleeping in the guest room. He seethed as he spoke of his soon-to-be ex-wife and didn't mind telling me that it was going to be a nasty divorce, a very nasty divorce. Yeah, that's something that I want to be a part of. Nothing like a nasty divorce to spice up a new relationship.
The Salesman eventually took a breath and I decided that the pleasantries were done. I quickly spoke up while he inhaled and said that I have a bunch of errands to run or some nonsense like that and that I had to get going. He left his garbage on the table, so I picked it up and tossed it for him. Gotta love a man who doesn't pick up after himself. We walked to my car and I kind of turned towards him and said "Thank you. It was nice to meet you. Bye." I got in the car, shut the door and said out loud "Geeze. How boring was that? He's not even blog-worthy"
I headed home and decided that I had to get needles and thread from the five and dime and while I was there, I'd pop into my favorite frozen yogurt shop for a dose of deliciousness. As I got onto the sidewalk, I saw a co-worker who said "Hey. What's up? Whatcha doin'?" to which I replied "I just had a date." He saw me walking towards the variety store and laughingly responded "I guess it didn't go too well." I answered "Ummm, not so much."
Sunday, January 8, 2012
What?
"What?" I feel that's what I said a lot when I went on my first date ever with a deaf guy. I kind of thought it would be the other way around.
I will call him The Teacher.
When I first saw The Teacher's very expressive pictures online, I said to myself "Look at this clown. What a party guy. As if I'd ever go out with him.". Click. Click. He was gone like that. A day or so later, I got a "Wink" from him. I hate "Winks", so I called him a tool. A little while after the "Wink", he sent me a very short email - something like "Hey. How are you?". I said "Really? That's it? Can't he be a little more creative?" At that point, I clicked on his silly name and read his profile. I soon discovered that there was a reason he was so expressive. He was deaf. He was also a teacher and a coach at a school for the deaf. "How interesting.", I thought, so I, being an equal opportunity dater, replied.
A bunch of emails led to instant messaging, which then led to us to exchanging phone numbers. The Teacher and I soon got to the point of texting each other all day long. He even text me while he was on vacation. We discussed family, friends, work and hobbies. I learned that he was not only a teacher and a coach but also a referee for deaf and hearing games. I asked him what his response was to fans who yelled out "Ref, are you blind?" I only know of one really bad word in sign language, so this was going to be tough. But at least I knew that if things got bad, I could give him the finger and he would definitely understand me.
Tonight finally arrived and I got all dolled up for Meet the Teacher Night. Due to the great weather, my normally wild and frizzy hair was pin straight, I wore dark clothes which allegedly made me look thinner and rocked my distressed black Steven Heathrow Biker Boots. I was off to a good, no great, start. We decided to meet at an arcade center and, considering my lack of coordination for such things, I knew that if I wasn't funny, I would at least be funny to watch
The Teacher and I began our date with a drink at the bar. The water went down smooth. It was during this time that I sadly discovered The Teacher's speech was difficult to understand - I (we?) had a hard time communicating. I kept leaning in, saying "I'm sorry?" and "What?". First dates are difficult enough for me, but throw deafness into the mix and, POW!, I, surprisingly, was at a loss for words. My brain seemed to freeze up like a deer in the night staring into highbeams. I said "What?" so many times that I started to feel uneasy but I'm pretty confident that at one point he told me I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. I didn't have to ask him twice about that or when he said I looked hot. I found it hard to have a simple conversation because I couldn't hear him enough to understand him. "What?" Grrrrr. I was so frustrated because I thought he was as cute as pie and I liked him (so far). I really wanted to know more about him, so it was a huge bummer not being able to chat. Once again, "What?".
The Teacher and I walked out of the bar, I tripped off the last step and we meandered over to Trivia. Although I am not very sure-footed, I was quite confident that I had a lot of smarts in this brain of mine. I read the categories and, since he can't hear and I love to sing out loud in the car, I really thought I'd have him beat when it came to "Music". When the first spin landed on none other than "Music", he laughed. I feverishly rubbed my hands together, tilted my head back so he couldn't read my lips and in an evil voice I said, "Mwahahahaha. This game is all mine." Well.....wrong I was. It seems I need to brush up on current music because I don't know Linken Park from Zucotti Park nor do I know any Top 40 music from this century. The teacher beat me at each game. Blast him!!!
The Teacher and I (happily) left Trivia and went on to Skeeball (my favorite amusement game of all time next to Pinball). Game on!! I'd beat this bastard for sure. As the daughter of a Rockaway Girl, Skeeball was in my blood. I was born with Skeeball skills. This was in the bag. I was going to win. Well, apparently, I need a woodchip transfusion because The Teacher kicked my ass again. As we walked away, I silently wondered if there was a Wooden Ball Drive coming up anytime soon?
The Teacher/Basketball Coach challenged me to Basketball. Really? That's like me challenging him to Karaoke. After he whooped me at hoops, I was reminded a few more times that I really suck at arcade games. I also found out that the world is a safer place because I don't race cars for a living. I crashed so many times driving the Nascar simulator that I should've been airlifted to NUMC with virtual brain damage. The best part of the night was that The Teacher didn't challenge me to any games with firearms. For that I am truly happy because had I lost at deer hunting or Rambo, I would've had to hang my head in shame and retire from my job in Law Enforcement.
My date with The Teacher came to an abrupt end when his pre-paid game card ran out of money and we wandered around one too many times. We tried to figure out what to do next but I really didn't know what to do after embarrassing myself so much playing arcade games. It would've been too suggestive (slutty) for me to ask him to come to my place since it was a 20 minute drive south of where we were, so I didn't ask him over for tea. We stood in the parking lot kind of staring at each other for a few minutes because we had nothing to say. Eventually, we said "Good night.", hugged and pecked each other on the cheek. I so wanted to make out with him....and he was lucky they didn't have Pinball.
Update:
We text each other for a few days after the date. I thought things were going well. When I said that I wish I knew ASL, he told me that I could learn it. I thought that was a good sign. We weren't texting like mad like we did before the date but I wrote that off because we were both back to work. One evening, we were texting and joking around. He told me that I seemed very frisky and I replied that I tend to be that way. (Before the date, I'd been laughing off his comments about sex because I didn't want to appear slutty.) So now, I figured that we'd met and I could be a little more risque, so I added "I love sex and if an adult can't admit that, there's something wrong." He laughed and said that was "Awesome." The rest of the text conversation was like this:
me: Um, I wanted to kiss you on Sunday.
him: Why didn't you?
me: I didn't know if you would kiss me back.
him: I would have
me: [jokingly] Did you want to? ;)
[the sounds of crickets followed]
And that was the end of The Teacher.
I will call him The Teacher.
When I first saw The Teacher's very expressive pictures online, I said to myself "Look at this clown. What a party guy. As if I'd ever go out with him.". Click. Click. He was gone like that. A day or so later, I got a "Wink" from him. I hate "Winks", so I called him a tool. A little while after the "Wink", he sent me a very short email - something like "Hey. How are you?". I said "Really? That's it? Can't he be a little more creative?" At that point, I clicked on his silly name and read his profile. I soon discovered that there was a reason he was so expressive. He was deaf. He was also a teacher and a coach at a school for the deaf. "How interesting.", I thought, so I, being an equal opportunity dater, replied.
A bunch of emails led to instant messaging, which then led to us to exchanging phone numbers. The Teacher and I soon got to the point of texting each other all day long. He even text me while he was on vacation. We discussed family, friends, work and hobbies. I learned that he was not only a teacher and a coach but also a referee for deaf and hearing games. I asked him what his response was to fans who yelled out "Ref, are you blind?" I only know of one really bad word in sign language, so this was going to be tough. But at least I knew that if things got bad, I could give him the finger and he would definitely understand me.
Tonight finally arrived and I got all dolled up for Meet the Teacher Night. Due to the great weather, my normally wild and frizzy hair was pin straight, I wore dark clothes which allegedly made me look thinner and rocked my distressed black Steven Heathrow Biker Boots. I was off to a good, no great, start. We decided to meet at an arcade center and, considering my lack of coordination for such things, I knew that if I wasn't funny, I would at least be funny to watch
The Teacher and I began our date with a drink at the bar. The water went down smooth. It was during this time that I sadly discovered The Teacher's speech was difficult to understand - I (we?) had a hard time communicating. I kept leaning in, saying "I'm sorry?" and "What?". First dates are difficult enough for me, but throw deafness into the mix and, POW!, I, surprisingly, was at a loss for words. My brain seemed to freeze up like a deer in the night staring into highbeams. I said "What?" so many times that I started to feel uneasy but I'm pretty confident that at one point he told me I was the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. I didn't have to ask him twice about that or when he said I looked hot. I found it hard to have a simple conversation because I couldn't hear him enough to understand him. "What?" Grrrrr. I was so frustrated because I thought he was as cute as pie and I liked him (so far). I really wanted to know more about him, so it was a huge bummer not being able to chat. Once again, "What?".
The Teacher and I walked out of the bar, I tripped off the last step and we meandered over to Trivia. Although I am not very sure-footed, I was quite confident that I had a lot of smarts in this brain of mine. I read the categories and, since he can't hear and I love to sing out loud in the car, I really thought I'd have him beat when it came to "Music". When the first spin landed on none other than "Music", he laughed. I feverishly rubbed my hands together, tilted my head back so he couldn't read my lips and in an evil voice I said, "Mwahahahaha. This game is all mine." Well.....wrong I was. It seems I need to brush up on current music because I don't know Linken Park from Zucotti Park nor do I know any Top 40 music from this century. The teacher beat me at each game. Blast him!!!
The Teacher and I (happily) left Trivia and went on to Skeeball (my favorite amusement game of all time next to Pinball). Game on!! I'd beat this bastard for sure. As the daughter of a Rockaway Girl, Skeeball was in my blood. I was born with Skeeball skills. This was in the bag. I was going to win. Well, apparently, I need a woodchip transfusion because The Teacher kicked my ass again. As we walked away, I silently wondered if there was a Wooden Ball Drive coming up anytime soon?
The Teacher/Basketball Coach challenged me to Basketball. Really? That's like me challenging him to Karaoke. After he whooped me at hoops, I was reminded a few more times that I really suck at arcade games. I also found out that the world is a safer place because I don't race cars for a living. I crashed so many times driving the Nascar simulator that I should've been airlifted to NUMC with virtual brain damage. The best part of the night was that The Teacher didn't challenge me to any games with firearms. For that I am truly happy because had I lost at deer hunting or Rambo, I would've had to hang my head in shame and retire from my job in Law Enforcement.
My date with The Teacher came to an abrupt end when his pre-paid game card ran out of money and we wandered around one too many times. We tried to figure out what to do next but I really didn't know what to do after embarrassing myself so much playing arcade games. It would've been too suggestive (slutty) for me to ask him to come to my place since it was a 20 minute drive south of where we were, so I didn't ask him over for tea. We stood in the parking lot kind of staring at each other for a few minutes because we had nothing to say. Eventually, we said "Good night.", hugged and pecked each other on the cheek. I so wanted to make out with him....and he was lucky they didn't have Pinball.
Update:
We text each other for a few days after the date. I thought things were going well. When I said that I wish I knew ASL, he told me that I could learn it. I thought that was a good sign. We weren't texting like mad like we did before the date but I wrote that off because we were both back to work. One evening, we were texting and joking around. He told me that I seemed very frisky and I replied that I tend to be that way. (Before the date, I'd been laughing off his comments about sex because I didn't want to appear slutty.) So now, I figured that we'd met and I could be a little more risque, so I added "I love sex and if an adult can't admit that, there's something wrong." He laughed and said that was "Awesome." The rest of the text conversation was like this:
me: Um, I wanted to kiss you on Sunday.
him: Why didn't you?
me: I didn't know if you would kiss me back.
him: I would have
me: [jokingly] Did you want to? ;)
[the sounds of crickets followed]
And that was the end of The Teacher.
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