Here we go … the it-took-longer-than-intended PART TWO to Food Truck Date #11′s 10 stages of a blind date. If you need to reread the first five stages because you forgot what I even wrote because I made you wait too terribly long for the second half, I understand. Give it a reread, then sit back, grab some Goldfish and a beer because below is stage 6 – 10 of a blind date to make one gigantic 10-stage package for you, all wrapped up with a little hypothetical Internet bow, lovers.
All right, you’ve been through Stage 1 (I Just Don’t Give A Fuuu), Stage 2 (Kill, Screw, Mary), Stage 3 (Up Shit Creek Without a Paddle), Stage 4 (B L U RRRRR) and Stage 5 (Mexican Standoff), so that brings us to…
Stage 6 of a Blind Date:
Okay, one of you caved in the Mexican Standoff stage. Either you contacted him, or he contacted you, and you received a response, so now you’re in stage six of a blind date – pure, unadulterated BLISS. You like a boy, it seems he likes you back. Date number two is on the horizon, and you’re multi-tasking getting a waxing appointment, trying on every outfit in your closet for date two, and possibly putting “trip to Vicky Secrets” in your work calendar for lunch… Date one (the big no no hook up date) is over and you’re sailing into date TWO or THREE, which is much more appropriate hook up territory. Cloud Nine!
I opened Puma Bait‘s email he sent me the next morning after our date, and it was just SO.DAMN.CUTE. Boy had recapped our entire date – what we did, what we talked about – and he had added a bunch of music suggestions for me to check out. One good way to my Seattle music snob heart is through music.
His email also included two little lines that my girl brain honed in on – 1) “you owe me a drink” and 2) “if you ever need a date to a SF event don’t hesitate to ask”
I *think* this is a good sign and means that he had just as much fun and wants to hang out again… which makes me feel like I’m on Cloud Nine, duh.
via SurfBang & @bobbysanders22 on Instagram
But just to be sure I’m reading the signs correctly, I need to forward the email to all five of my best girl friends in San Francisco, my barista from the coffee shop that’s near my house (and probably the one near my work too), my old coworker from my second job out of college, my neighbor friend from third grade, my sister, my aunt who’s clairvoyant, my gay hair stylist, and my 10 best high school girl friends. Plus or minus 8 more.
Does this sound like he likes me? I mean, he likes me right? What should I say back?!
Only after I gather at least 10 opinions on whether he likes me or not, and gushed to at least 15 different girls about our date and his cute email, am I able to move on with my life.
Stage 7 of a Blind Date:
You like him! He likes you! But wait … he kinda had a weird laugh, and it seems like he might watch too much sports, and that little comment he said about his ex girlfriend means he has baggage galore, and his shirt was a weird color, and really none of this will work out anyway because there’s a .03 percent chance after the less than 5 percent chance you’ll like your blind date that he’ll like you back, and that you’ll make it through date one, date two, date three, and sleeping together and all the awkwardness and possibly small penises of it and STILL want to date each other, so you might as well not respond and move on. This, my lovers, is the I’m Too Rational For My Shirt stage where you rationalize all the reasons that it’s probably not going to work. This stage is especially useful if he drops off the face of the earth, and you haven’t heard from him.
Somewhere after that first cute email, Puma Bait and I converse back and forth a little bit, and by this time, I’m partially trying to judge his conversations for more sure-fire signs he likes me, possibly trying to figure out if there’s a time that makes sense to make a plan to see each other again, but mostly thinking, “Hmmm. I’m not so sure this is worth my time worrying over or moving forward with.”
I mean, he’s only 23 and probably SO FAR away from a dating world I’m only just now starting to reach. And by this, I mean the world where you’re kinda tired of making out randomly on Saturday nights and flitting through your 20s in a mostly-non-committal way. Also, this is not just any 23 year old man. This is a 23 year old man living in the Bay Area, which immediately means he needs to bang the number of fingers he has on both hands (but girls, not fingers) times two or three, every year, until he’s 34.
He’s only 23… He’s only 23… He’s only 23…
Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize away how much I like him.
Stage 8 of a Blind Date:
If you spend too much time in I’m Too Rational For My Shirt stage, then your shirt is never gonna come off. And dammit, girls just wanna have fun! So whether he’s the man of your dreams, or (more likely) not, this is the stage where you should probably just forget all that judgement and go with it, girl friend! If there’s at least chemistry to make something happen, captain, then it’s worth it. You never know where it might lead, and even if it doesn’t lead, getting a little action is better than Friday night with your cat. (I’m not talking about ME, I’m talking about YOU. No Friday night cat cuddling admitting here).
Okay, so Puma Bait is in early dating stages of his life and probably won’t father my third child. But, I don’t want three babies. Or even two. Or babies in this decade, even. So why not just have some fun. I’ve spent my time rationalizing my way out of 89 percent of the guys I meet lately and I’m so single and bored with my love life, I need a new word for single and bored. So I’m thinking – I need to completely turn my mindset around. Just try to make out a little bit. Get some ACTION JACKSON. Try something new. Do something I haven’t done before. After all, one of the millions of reasons I have for doing this 50 Food Truck Dates project is to make me step outside my dating comfort zone.
So, this is me trying to openly and publicly make a move toward shedding my ageism. Puma Bait is smart and adorable and interesting, and I might be totally creepy for wanting to go out with him again because he’s younger than my itty bitty teeny tiny little sister who is seven years my junior, but I don’t even care, I’ll just take off my shirt! Age is just a number! Girls just wanna have fun! Party!
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun via @gabizanchi on Instagram
Stage 9 of a Blind Date:
Okay, it’s time for the Close Your Eyes & Push Send stage lovers. Make a move. Just do it. Ask your date out on date numero dos or tres. Even if you don’t think it’ll go anywhere, but you just want to have fun. Even if it’s two weeks later or two hours later. Even if you’re embarrassed or uncomfortable. Even if you don’t like to be the one to ask someone out and want to be pursued or be wooed or pursuedly wooed. Even if dating makes you uncomfortable and you just don’t know what to do or when to do it, or what to say or when to say it. We’re all human. We’re all trying to navigate these crazy dating waters. Put yourself out there – ask the one you like to hang out again. If it doesn’t happen, nothing changes in your life except you took a chance.
Puma Bait and I had emailed a few times after our date (and over the Christmas holiday while I was in Seattle), but so far no plans to see each other again. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how cute he was! So after some hemming and hawing, I sent him a quick text to see if he wanted to hang out again.
Let me preface this by saying I HATE ASKING GUYS OUT. Despite how this whole 50 Dates thing might look, I still like to be the girl who’s wooed. I want a guy to ask *me* out again after a good first date. But alas, it wasn’t happening, and I wasn’t totally ready to give up, so I made a move before I sayonara-ed him outta my little black book. (Yet ANOTHER way I stepped outside my dating comfort zone with this date). Rah rah shish boom Jeanna.
He texted back, and then we made a plan. Bingo bango! Mama I’m coming home! (In which Sharon Osbourne is my vagina). P.S. That’s a joke, MOM.
Stage 10 of a Blind Date:
I’m hoping, dear lovers, that you don’t have to experience the last and final stage of a blind date – the Eeyore stage – too many times. This is the stage after ALLLLLL the above. After the good date, the followup, the mutual liking, the plans for date two or three or 10. Eeyore stage is when it just doesn’t end up happening and you walk around feeling like Eeyore for a couple days – “Good morning. If it even is a good morning. Which I doubt it is.” Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I’ll go eat worms! Sometimes stars just don’t align and it’s not the right person or not the right situation for work fun OR play, so you’ve got to pick yourself up, try not to obsess too much over why he/she doesn’t like you and move on to the next! Go forth!
Finally, the day arrives. Puma Bait and I have plans to hang out again. Date two, or as “just friends,” who knows. I was just going to go with the flow and was really okay with either and just looking forward to seeing him again cause he’s fun! I’m so casual and willing to see where things lead without obsessing too much or over-thinking! This is a new Jeanna. I’m learning SO much. Changing in EVERY way!
And then the cancel text comes through a couple hours prior to our plans – it’s just short and sweet. Not gonna work out. No detailed explanation why.
I’m major Eeyore for a couple days, confused and don’t really know what to think cause I *thought* it seemed like he liked me. So I wait to see if he makes a move to reschedule (cause something really did come up) or if I don’t hear from him again (he got cold feet or something changed or he wasn’t interested in the first place).
Eeyore sleeping alone via @seeyou_k on Instagram
Unfortunately, it was the latter. I didn’t hear from him, and that’s it! End of story. No Food Truck Date #2. No love. Wamp wamp wamppppp. Big anti-climatic ending. In more ways than one. Badum dummmmm.
HOWEVER, there are two morals to come out of Food Truck Date #11′s story:
- I’m in my 30s and still totally boy retarded and can’t figure them out at all.
- Twenty-three-year-old boys can be hot, interesting and dateable – even in your 30s. Surprise, surprise. I feel somewhat of a changed woman. (Hat tip to Puma Bait for making me change my mind).