Tonight and the Rest of My Life

As our date was coming to a close, I walked a little closer to The Grown Up, briefly grazing his hand with mine. We made our way from the pub to the car, and I knew I was a little tipsy, but far from drunk. I was giggly. Honestly, I was probably fucking adorable. He HAD to be falling in love with me. How could he not?

Tonight and the rest of my life

The car ride home was the complete opposite of the car ride to the restaurant. We chatted the entire time. I’m pretty sure I did most of the talking, but it seemed so easy…and he appeared to appreciate my ridiculous quirks. He laughed at my bad jokes and cracked a few of his own that I’m sure most people would cringe at. It was the most natural thing in the entire world.

When he pulled into my parents’ driveway around 11:30 pm, I wasn’t ready to get out of the car. I wasn’t ready for this night to end. So I kept talking. And talking. And talking some more.

The Grown Up reached up to my neck and started gently running his fingers through my hair. I lost all control of my heart rate and started thinking, is he going to kiss me?

We kept talking. I moved a bit closer to make kissing me easier. He’s not going to kiss me, is he? Why isn’t he kissing me?

And then he blurted out something that seems so peculiar, and yet completely fitting.

“I’m not good with people,” he confessed. He’s definitely not going to kiss me. What the fuck? He keeps touching me as if he likes me…you know what? Balls out, Chrissy. Balls out.

I was thrown back for just a second before I responded, “That’s okay. Just be good with me.” And then I kissed him. And it was magical. We kept kissing forever. Was it five minutes? An hour? I couldn’t tell you. But do you remember those days? The dating and kissing, and JUST kissing for hours? I loved that. I needed that.

Kissed Him

At some point, we resumed talking, with interspersed kissing. The Grown Up realized how late it was, and asked if I wanted to come home with him. Nevermind we had driven from a bar nearish his house back to my house which was in the opposite direction. Nevermind it was our first date. Nevermind he had to work the next morning. Nevermind every last bit of reason. Because wherever he was going, I was going too.

I confirmed that I would go, but I would NOT be banging him that night. It was just to sleep. And he agreed. I’d like to tell you it’s because I wasn’t that kind of girl. But really, it’s because I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. Not with him. There was something about him. I liked him. A lot. More than one should in the midst of a first date. But that didn’t matter because he liked me too. Well…at least he liked me at 1 o’clock in the morning when I was kissing him with fervent adoration…One could only hope that the feeling would continue through to morning, but only time would tell.

I ran into my house, grabbed a toothbrush and a few other essentials, and returned to the car with eager anticipation. I was going to see where this Grown Up lived. I was going to spend the night snuggled next to him. I was going to kiss him until I fell asleep. And I did all of those things. It was quite lovely. His room was small and just a little messy. But he didn’t share his room with anyone like a previous boyfriend. And he didn’t live with his grandparents like another guy I had dated. He was…a motherfucking grown up. We kissed some more and eventually fell asleep. I don’t entirely know how much sleep I got, but I slept in his arms the whole night…and for once, didn’t hate it. Who WAS this guy?

Someone pinch me, I think I fell in love that night. Of course, with my track record, I couldn’t help but think…how long would it last?

Think back to the last best first date you’ve had…how did it end? Did you scandalously spend the night or chastely make your way home? What are your thoughts on copious amounts of kissing? What’s the most magical kissing experience you’ve had in your adult life?

Read the next episode of The Handsome Grown Up, How to Lose a Guy is 6 Steps

When the guy you've been dating for a week or so seems too good to be true, you start busting out the big guns to see how far he'll let you go. Sometimes relationships are really weird.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Riding in Cars with Boys

I FINALLY. Had. A date. With. The Grown Up.

On Thursday, we scheduled our date for Tuesday, as The Grown Up’s weekend was already booked, and let’s be honest here…I had a date that Saturday night already anyways. But I couldn’t help but swoon about The Grown Up. I went into work the next afternoon, bragging to my bartender girlfriend. “I have a date with The Grown Up!”

Riding in Cars with Boys

“Which one was that?”

“Tall, handsome guy I met when I used to do trivia?”

“The ginger?”

“No, not that one. The really smart guy who I e-mailed back and forth with.”

“The muscle-y, weird guy?”

“No. That was McDreamy.”

“Maybe. Was he here with Jack?”

“No, that was the ginger.”

“Oh. Okay, I have no idea, then.”

This was a common exchange between my friends and I, which is why the nickname system was relatively important if I were going on a date with someone.

I went through a complete rundown of interactions with The Grown Up, from the day we met to the personality test pick up line that got me a date. (There was a lot of stalking and waiting and  desperate chatting in the three months from start to go time. You can catch up by starting with the day we met and work your way back here. I’m nothing if not linear [and I’m totally lying…except for the part where you can read the whole story. That part is true.]).

We didn’t set a plan until the following Monday, when The Grown Up messaged me asking if I preferred Italian or Indian food. Wow! He was picking a nice restaurant! I’ve never been a huge fan of restaurant Italian food, and I’d never had Indian food so either way, it could be the best/worst night. I told him I was adventurous and let’s try something new so he made reservations at an Indian restaurant.

Then he asked if I wanted to meet him there or if he could pick me up in his “pimpin’ ride.”

I almost died right there.

I had dated a car guy in the past, and I was torn. In addition to my stellar dating advice, I had all these dating rules for myself. Not unlike my bar rules.

Chrissy’s Rules of Dating

1. First dates should always be short – coffee, drinks, mini-golf…they should have an easy-out end time.
2. Always ride in your own vehicle so you can escape quickly if you need to. A getaway car is necessary.
3. Let’s not even get into the no date unless he’s actually called me first rule, because we TOTALLY botched this one up. As evident by 3 months of whatever the fuck that was.
4. Don’t date boys who love their car more than you.

And then my curiosity won, as it usually does, and I decided let him pick me up for our first date.

Over the 4 days, I managed to brag to anyone who would listen that I had a date with a grown up. My older cousin told me it sounded like I was going out with my first man.

My dear friend CC swooned with me, when I told her he was picking me up in his pimpin’ ride.

Katie mostly grazed over another date with another boy (she had been dealing with my bullshit for years. It was allowed).

Jonathan commented on how boys just fell into my lap and it just wasn’t that easy for dudes.

But mostly people were excited for me. Worst case scenario was that I would have an awesome story to tell. And since I’m telling you this story…you know SOMETHING happened.

So on the night of our date, I chose the perfect, casual-but-cute outfit. Jeans, a dressy top, and high heels. This was as strategic as it was aesthetic. I was young and thought I’d wear high heels forever. I needed to know he was taller than me in pumps. And let’s be honest, they made me look skinnier. I was ready to go around 6 pm, shortly before he was scheduled to pick me up. I was terribly nervous, and half tempted to pour myself a couple of shots to make it easier.

I refrained from boozing up early for fear of scaring off The Grown Up, so I paced back and forth in my bedroom. When he pulled up, I saw him right away (my bedroom was in the front of the house). Holy shit.

His pimpin’ ride was a tiny. Green. Mini Cooper. A car I absolutely hated. And made fun of. All. The. Time.

My judging game was strong.

I almost didn’t walk outside. But I had given him my real address. And my mom was home. And the LAST thing I wanted was for him to come to the door. And so I stepped outside. And laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. And realized it was probably a good thing it wasn’t a muscle car. At least I wouldn’t need to compete with a large hunk of metal on wheels. As I made my way to the car, he opened the door for me and our date began.

What dating rules have you broken for someone? What’s your least favorite car? What are your dating deal-breakers?

Find out about the date in the next post…

THE BEST DATE EVER

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Hey Baby, What’s Your Myers-Briggs Type?

For the last few weeks, I’ve taken you on a little journey that started with two guys in a bar (this is the beginning of the story, so if you’re new around here, start with this post), and has led to a very serious flirting problem that included a lot more waiting than I would have preferred. Well, not that this should surprise you, based on what you know about my dating experience, but it took another month before I messaged The Grown Up again.

I had been seeing another gentleman caller, who was attractive, kind and okay to be around…I nicknamed him McDreamy during our brief time together, but he wasn’t entirely deserving of the name. He was what you might refer to as pretty, but dumb. He was about as intellectually stimulating as a carrot.

So I was looking for something a little more. Something with substance. SomeONE with substance…someone with half a brain.

And so I messaged The Grown Up.

photo credit: L1010203_v1 via photopin (license)

photo credit: L1010203_v1 via photopin (license)

This was our longest conversation to date. I think we chatted for a few hours that fateful evening.

I sent him a tongue-sticking-out emoji, because I wasn’t terribly clever when it came to starting chatversations. It was shortly after St Patrick’s Day, and I worked at an Irish bar, so it seemed logical for him to ask me about it. And for once, I was actually kind of letting him in.

TGU: How was St Patricks day? Nightmare crowd?
Me: I didn’t work.
They hate me.
TGU: ?
Me: They didn’t schedule me.
So I went out drinking all day 😀
TGU: Do you seriously think they hate you?
Me: Yes.
But, it was okay because I went to my local watering hole dive pub that was filled with people I knew and liked.
I had a happy little corner and people came to me.

Bars on St. Patrick's Day get pretty crowded...

Bars on St. Patrick’s Day get pretty crowded…

TGU: nice!

I was going to impress him with my barfly popularity. That always worked. Why I felt the need to tell him my job essentially sucked, I’ll never know. But he took it to a whole new level.

TGU: So are you Norm, or Cliff Clavin, or Sam Malone?
Me: Well, my brother is Norm.
For sure.
He walks into the bar and everyone is all “WOJ!”
TGU: Frasier? Woody?

I considered explaining to him that I was a lady and didn’t want to be a boy character…

Me: I’m more Diane
TGU: Really?
Diane was…kinda…

Dude, I chose Diane because she was the pretty nice one.

Me: Hmmm maybe Kirstie Alley’s character?

Not really, but what other ladies were on that damn show?

TGU: Umm

I know. You’re right. But I can’t even…wait! I know!

Me: nah…
Carla

TGU: She was definitely better than Diane
hahaha
Carla was awesome
Me: I’m a sassy pants.
I’m the hilarious one.
TGU: hahaha… always awesome when people think they’re the funny one… hahaha
Although I don’t remember you laughing at your own jokes, so you’re probably OK.
Me: lol
I just get told that I’m funny all the time.
I don’t always think I’m that funny…I just talk a lot
TGU: hahaha

Oooh he thinks I’m funny!

TGU: So, did you have a good time last night?

Finally! My chance to shine again. Stupid pre-dating questions.

Me: Indeed
TGU: you don’t even remember do you?
Me: I do too!
TGU: All some kind of greenish blur.
Me: I maintained a pleasant buzz throughout the evening.

Irish PrincessOkay fine, you guys, I drank all damn day…went to 4 different bars…got stupid drunk. He didn’t need to know that.

TGU: Nice.
That’s the best way to do it.
Me: Exactly.
Functional but fun.

It was at this point, I believe, The Grown Up decided he might actually be interested in me. I didn’t realize it for…well…a while. I’m not very observant…

TGU: <nerd talk>hey, did you ever take a Myers-Briggs test? </end nerd talk>
Me: LOL yes.

He was adorably nerdy. He used freakin’ code speak. I loved him. And, for the record, I generally hate personality tests. HATE. THEM. A lot. But I just went la-de-da a boy might like me la-de-da sure I’ll take your stupid test…

TGU: did I already ask you this?

Is this really a thing you do?

Me: No, I just really liked the nerd talk interjection.

True story. Loved <nerd talk>.

TGU: Hey, some people can’t handle the nerd-nitude.
Me: I <3 nerds
TGU: yay! nerd love!
There’s not enough love for the nerds out there.
Do you remember what types you were?
(MyersBriggs came up recently with friends, and so I’ve been thinking about it lately.)
Nice play, there, Grown Up. I now (as in real time NOW) see what you were doing here.
TGU: You’re probably an…EN something…because you’re very social and yet like nerds.
Me: LOL I don’t remember for sure.
I’m, like, all over the place, though.
TGU: Understandable…kinda outta nowhere…
 If you ever feel like it…
Me: Will do.
I’m not going to lie, here, guys…I went and took the damn test immediately. I was just all la-de-da…this could be interesting…la-de-da this boy is super nerdy. I should make him love me with my winning personality…
TGU: What I realized was that N’s are less common then S people.
And T’s are less common then F’s in women…
 me: What does each stand for?
TGU: so NT women are the most rare type
Me: I don’t know where I fall, but I’ve been told I’m a rare breed of girl. lol

The Grown Up went on a long discussion of personality types, but I’ll spare you the details. You’re welcome.

Me: I think I’m ENFP…but not 100% sure
Me: Oh yeah
That’s me
Hardcore!
Winning Personality
Please love me, Grown Up. I promise I’ll be really nice and stop being a serial dater.
TGU: Yay! That’s gonna be my new line… instead of “What’s your sign, baby?” I’ll say “What’s your MyersBriggs type, baby?”
For the love of GOD; we’re FINALLY getting somewhere.
Me:That’ll get you all the ladies!
You’ve got me, dude. Just ask me the fuck out.
TGU: Totally! world, look out!
Me: Okay, maybe only the intellectually nerdy ones…
TGU: Eh, they’re the only ones I want anyway
Me: Good point. pretty but dumb gets old pretty fast

And then The Grown Up started talking about a girl he dated who fell into that category (although not dumb, just an “S” versus and “N”). I refrained from talking about my “McDreamy” because I didn’t think talking about one’s current prospects with another of one’s current prospects was in good taste. I merely mentioned that I didn’t feel guilty about categorizing the “pretty but dumb.”

TGU: (the world is about 65% S people… it’s one of the few types that doesn’t have a 50/50 split in the general population)
Me: Strange.
TGU: I like to think that reality TV is their fault.
Me: LOL  probably.
God, I fucking hate reality TV. Unless I can get famous by being on reality TV. I’m not completely opposed…
TGU: So what have you been doing for fun lately?
Me: That is my least favorite question ever. I do everything fun.
TGU: Must be nice!
Me: Indeed. Just doing my Chrissy thing
TGU: heh. Threesomes with Jack Tripper?
Me: UGH!  swat
TGU: ouch!
Me: Watch it, buddy! No Threes Company references…
TGU: What Chrissy then?
 Me:  just me!
TGU: I thought your name was actually <insert personal e-mail address here>
Me: that’s a tough one for people to get on the first try, so we shortened it to Chrissy.
We continued to banter about my name for a few more minutes before he dropped the bomb.

TGU: We should hang out some night, so I can see you in person when you’re not working. What does your schedule look like next week?

Now THAT’S a sure thing. Asking about schedules means a date will finally fucking happen.

Me: I think that’s a stellar idea. At this point it’s pretty open.
TGU: How about something like Tuesday?
Me: I can do Tuesday.
TGU: Sweet.

And just like that, I had a date with The Grown Up. Honestly, it only took three fucking months. Whatever. It was game. On. We exchanged phone numbers and he promised to plan a whole date. I was impressed and excited. I was usually the one who had to come up with an itinerary. All I had to do was pick out a killer outfit and make him fall in love with me. Easy peasy, my friends.

Are you as excited for this date as I was? What’s the longest you’ve waited for someone to ask you out? Would you have even waited as long as I did? What are your thoughts on personality tests? Or better yet, what are your thoughts on personality tests before a first date?

Riding in Cars with Boys

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!