first date report: A

Ok, first things first. Here’s what I wore:


The top is new; it’s from Fresh Ayer. The jeans are apair of Calvin Kleins I bought over the summer (from Nordstrom Rack! only $20) and had never worn, because they needed hemming (to hell with it, I said, and wore them long).

It was stupid, maybe, to buy a new top. (I also bought a pair of jeans, which  am returning – the Calvins are cuter! – and the Perfect Black Pants, pants I have been searching for, pants I have been longing for, pants that will change my life.) I’m on sabbatical, I have no income, and, um, maybe I shouldn’t be buying new clothing. But have you ever had a perfect clothes experience? Clothes that just feel right, that make you feel beautiful and comfortable and happy and yourself? This top felt that way. As soon as I bought it, I stopped worrying about the date. I knew I was going to be fine.

(An aside: I’ve noticed, looking at the picture up there, that this outfit makes me look a little bigger than I am. Such is the nature of flowy tops, I guess. It speaks to how far I’ve come in fat acceptance that I chose something that I thought made me look beautiful, rather than something that made me look thin.)

And I was. I met A at the coffee shop. I was there first, which was not my intention. I got a chai, I grabbed a paper, I nabbed the two easy chairs in the corner and I started reading. He walked in right while I w as reading a commentary about how Minnesota’s senate election (it’s still not resolved!) might wind up being decided by lot.

So he walked in, I was feeling beautiful and happy and comfortable and myself, and I had just read a fascinating article about my home state, and I was ready to go. He grabbed a coffee and sat down and we talked, and talked and talked. We talked for three hours, and then I had to get to a meeting, and we hugged and said we should do it again, and then I went home. (And then I went to an incredible meeting, a life-changing meeting, but that’s another story for another blog. Yeah, I keep another blog. Under my Real Name. Imagine!)

We got along splendidly. What I’m not sure of is whether – as my friend Jeremy would say – there’s any mojo.

That sounds more negative than I mean it to. I mean, really, that I’m not sure. He talked a lot, he rattled on and I had some trouble getting a word in, at first, but that’s just nerves. That’s why I believe in a two-date minimum, before you can make up your mind about someone. I’m sure that we could be great friends; I’m just not sure whether there’s any zing, you know?


9 responses to “first date report: A

  1. Sounds like things went great. Just wanted to say that sometimes it takes time for the zing to happen. I’d just about given up on the guy I’m seeing. But on the 4th date, the zing/spark/whatever finally happened.

    So give it time, have fun, and good luck!!!

  2. Firstly: Woo! Go You! :)

    Secondly, I know what you mean. I went on a date with this guy who was nice in the good sense of nice and had a decent sense of humor, but there was no sparkage at all. Sometimes I think that was worse than meeting a guy and finding out he’s just utterly not the kind of person you want to know. If he’s a good guy and you’re “just not into him” then it’s easy to start thinking “God, what’s wrong with me?” But sparks/zing/chemistry cannot be willed into existence.


  3. As I shared here before, I also met my husband online. We also met for the first time in a coffeehouse. He shredded the label on his beer bottle instead to calm his nerves, while I babbled incessantly in response to mine. We also talked for about three hours and when he walked me to my car, he also gave me a hug. I wasn’t sure if there were any sparks there or not. I wasn’t expecting a kiss on the first date or anything, but the hug just kind of reminded me of something you’d give your mom. It probably wasn’t until our second or third week of dating that I first realized, “Oh, wow… I think he might be the one.”

    So, hang in there. Even if you don’t make a romantic connection with him, he might turn out to be a good friend.

  4. Mr. Twistie and I were friends for five years before we went on our first date. We celebrated fifteen years of besottedly joyful marriage in June. Sometimes you can’t tell from those first couple hours.

    OTOH, if he turns out to just be a good friend, well, it’s hard to have too many of those. Zing or no, it sounds like meeting one another was a good idea.

    And I know just what you mean about that top. First off, you’re gorgeous in it. Second, you know you’re gorgeous in it, which is awesome. I’ve gotten a couple pieces over the years under the same circumstances: it’s more than I can really afford, but it would cost more to my self-confidence to leave it behind. Sometimes you just have to bite the bullet and do something that seems crazy because it really is better than the rational option in the longrun.

  5. It sounds promising, three hours is a substantial block of time. What I’m trying to say is that you should give it some time, maybe he was shy. Also going in for a kiss in a public place in daytime is a high-pressure situation for a first kiss. I say better to hold off on the kiss then to have a bad first kiss.

    Love the color of that shirt

  6. The first time I met my boyfriend, he thoroughly trounced me with a greatsword to demonstrate the importance of reach.
    Inauspicious beginnings can lead to good things.

  7. That’s a great top, and you look gorgeous in it. Fantastic color for you.

    And you’ll wear it a lot–it’s not a crazy one-occasion splurge.

    The date sounds like a fun conversation. Yay!

  8. I’d give it three dates, if you like him. Obviously if he gave you the creeps there’d be no need to ever see him again, but I remember when I had my first date with the man who I eventually married, he broke a tooth on his way over to see me, but insisted on going through with the date anyway, and I didn’t know this until later! We didn’t really feel the “zing” until date number 3.

  9. Pingback: no mojo, and what to do about it « Fat Girl on a Date

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