Fickle White Goes on a Date

Doesn't that sound like a book title? Perhaps I should start a series, "Adventures of The Fickle White Woman." What do you think? Sound like a good plan? Maybe I should just make it blog series... "Fickle White, RN," "Fickle White Buys a Bachelorette Pad," "Fickle White Is Not On Crack, Just Crazy..."

Hmm. I'm kind of liking this idea.

By the way, is it pathetic that I was super excited about this date just so I could blog about it?

Yea, that's what I thought.

ANYWAY...

Yes, folks, I finally have gone on a date. A match.com date. Lord help us all.

I joined match.com a little over a month ago when one of my very favorite friends told me she's doing it and has been on a lot of dates (Hi friend! I won't call you out ;)). After a failed go at eharmony, I decided to give the competition a try. In college (and maybe even high school-- perhaps I had a premonition about the lack of dating experience I would have?) I always said, "If I'm not in a relationship by the time I'm 25, I'll try online dating." Yea, well I just turned 23 and am on my second online dating site, so obviously I got a little impatient. Plus spending my days with kids, my nights in class, and watching my friends move all around the country doesn't exactly give me a lot of opportunities to meet guys.

My experience with match thus far has been much better. Sure, I've still received the hilariously creepy messages which I may have to share with all of you in the future, but overall, it's been fine. I've been communicating via email with a few guys that seem nice and normal, so when tonight's guy asked if I wanted to go to dinner, I decided to give it a try. I mean, I didn't fork out some money for this site just to email with people... Hello, my life isn't that lame.

Tonight I had dinner at Kona Grill with a guy we shall call Charlie (Note: I originally named him Chester, but then remembered Chester the Molester...). I didn't have high expectations for the night, but I figured it'd be a good time so long as the conversation flowed and he was as nice and normal as he came across initially.

Unfortunately, I have been sick since last Thursday and had a low grade fever today (I've probably had one all week, I just finally got around to checking), but if someone bailed out on me, claiming they were sick the day of the date, I wouldn't believe it, so I wasn't about to even try that road.

And as if being sick isn't bad enough, when I went to get in the shower at 5, no water came out. Our water heater went out and men had been here working on it since noon. I about shit my pants and ran downstairs to ask when it would be back on. By the way, crap like this is exactly why I do not have sex. The most random "bad stuff" happens to me. If I had sex, my body would probably invent some kind of new STD just to get back at me.

Anyway, back to running downstairs...

Me: "DAAAAAAD! DAAAAAAAD! I HAVE TO SHOWER! How long until the water is back on?!?!" (Thinking 30 minutes, max.)

Dad: "They said you can't use hot water for at least two hours, just shower tomorrow." (obviously he hadn't been clued in about the date)

Me: " Are you KIDDING ME?!?! There isn't even cold water for me to use! I have a friggin date at 7!"

Dad: "Oh, uh, well I didn't know that. Go next door and use their shower."

Me: "I suppose you want me to also walk across the lawn in my turbie towel and bath robe, too? Give me a break."

Needless to say, I ran upstairs freaking out, texted my friend asking what to do, she was out of ideas, so I just texted Charlie and asked if we could meet an hour later. What help that would do me, I don't know, but at least it was better than totally cancelling on him. I didn't think he'd believe me if I cancelled for being sick, I sure as hell didn't think he'd believe me if I said, "I have to cancel because I can't shower." Bless his heart, he agreed to meet an hour later.

I wasn't really nervous for the meeting and dinner in the first place, and then after the nonsense at home, I was even more relaxed because I knew we'd have something to joke about, at the very least.

We met outside the restaurant at 7 8. Actually, I was early, which is a miracle in and of itself because I will be late for my own funeral, so yay me.

We parted ways at 8:45. A 45 minute date. I spent more time getting ready. I bet you can guess how it went.

Charlie brought nothing to the table. Nothing. I did all the question asking, listened to his answers, and then waited for him to reciprocate with a question. Instead, what I heard were the crickets chirping.

Awkward.

And then our waiter came over and I was instantly more attracted to him than the guy I was on a date with. Typical, get the cute waiter when I'm not with my friends and am able to hit on him. I'm fairly certain the one and only picture Charlie put on his profile is of someone else, too. He most definitely lied about his height.

He was very nice. Normal? Uh, not so much.

I told Charlie about my time in Hawaii, he said his mother hates Hawaii.

I asked if he likes to travel. He said, "Not really." (See? Not normal.)

I asked if he liked the Colts and he said yes, which is fine. Until he followed it up with, "Peyton Manning is awesome."

He had lost me at the, "My mom hated Hawaii" nonsense... saying "Peyton Manning is awesome" confirmed that he and I have nothing in common.

And just as quickly as we met, ordered, and ate, he ended the date. Either he also realized that gas and a lighter are a better match, or he is as socially awkward as can be; but I was glad he did it when he did because I was fresh out of conversation starters.

Needless to say, we will not be communicating any longer.

There is another guy I've been talking to for about a month and he seems more my type, even in email. We've talked about planning a date, just haven't done so yet, but will be in the very near future.

So the first date sucked, but you have to weed out the losers to find a winner, right? Either that or I'll be asking for my money back.