Me: “These fries are awesome – just the right amount of girth!”
I’m just going to let you sit on that one, awkwardly, for awhile.
Yep. I said GIRTH on a first date. When referring to fries. Annnnnd, that’s the moment I learned I might be the world’s worst first dater ever, since I blurt out 95% of what’s on my mind without passing it through some sort of filtered think tank. Oh, also adding to my charm – I swear like a sailor. One of my exes once told me he was afraid to take me home to his charming, southern mother.
F*#$ing girthy fries!
Girth is a five-lettered, four-letter word on a first date. A first date swear word, if you will. This was lesson one on this Food Truck Date. Lesson two: “kink” can also be a four-letter word on a first date.
But, let me back up.
For my third Food Truck Date, I met The Philosopher at Off The Grid’s Thursday night food truck fete in Hayes Valley, one of my favorite neighborhoods of San Francisco.
Hayes Valley has an artsy vibe that I love – graffiti and funky wall paintings everywhere, with bright-colored shopfronts – and where I chose to take my pictures for 50 Food Truck Dates! The hood hosts everything from fun and funky bars (Smuggler’s Cove – a pirate themed bar) to fancy restaurants (The Boxing Room), German watering holes (Biergarten and Suppenkuche) and yes, food trucks!
This particular gathering of Off the Grid is one of the smallest – only two or three trucks. But, it’s located near the cutest park and Smitten Ice Cream, which is rumored to be one of San Francisco’s best ice cream spots. Food trucks, dessert, booze – wam, bam, thank yah ma’am – time to go home and smoke a cigarette.
Together, The Philosopher and I chose the Fins on the Hoof food truck since The Philosopher’s favorite food is hamburgers, and this particular San Francisco food truck boasts surf and turf and a mean burger. Of course we added fries to our order (f*&$ing girthy ones) and sat down at a picnic table in the park to enjoy our meal.
Right away, The Philosopher had me laughing – genuinely – out loud. He’s a pretty witty fella and a great storyteller, so I immediately felt comfortable (enough to let that f&*$ing girthy fry comment slip) and was already calculating it as TOP of my three Food Truck Dates so far. In fact, the date was going so well, that we decided to throw the remainder of the f*&$ing girthy fries away and continue the date at a bar.
We walked to Sugar Lounge and started talking about the usual things two people can connect on… music and books.
Oh music, sweet music. Want to wax poetically with me on music? Bring up 90s grunge music. That.is.my.JAM. And The Philosopher could spit everything back to me – Toadies, Cranberries, Mother Love Bone – all the obscurities, and then we slid up and over to Classic Rock – Zeppelin (his favorite band, and most definitely one of mine since I regularly sang Going to California before moving to SF) and then low into our most embarrassing music confessions (Brittany Spears – guess who – Eminem – guess who – and Meatloaf).
And then we moved onto books…
Me: I mostly like National Best Sellers – but literary ones, not stuff like 50 Shades of Grey.
The Philosopher: If I read 50 Shades, I’d probably spend my whole time correcting everything.
Me: Why’s that?
The Philosopher: Because I’m part of the community.
Me: What community … … Oh, BDSM?!
[Trying not to sit on that one, awkwardly, for awhile]
Me: Oh – Did you put that on your OKCupid profile?
The Philosopher: Uh, I think so? I think it’s mentioned somewhere near the end.
[Cursing myself for f&$ing girthy skimming his profile]
After his “kink” confession, of course, I asked three million questions. The Philosopher gave me the whole shebang (figuratively, not literally) after I pushed him for answers. He was a total, polite gentleman, by the way. And pretty gracious to answer my probing questions. He gave me the deets to San Francisco’s whole kink scene – meeting friends on FetLife.com, flogging, Kink.com and The Armory, air play, a kinky BDSM coffee shop, underground clubs with play parties…
I.was.fascinated. (And also holy what the? what is THAT?)
To say the least.
I was also pretty much completely uninterested romantically after that. Don’t get me wrong – Ima not judging at all. We all have a little bit of what defines the community in us, I’m sure, and I’m as adventurous as the next person. I also wholeheartedly support alternative communities. But I don’t necessarily think someone who has their friends rather intwined (bada boom) in the community and their social life regularly tied (waka waka waka – okay I’m done) to BDSM community activities, is exactly a match for me. No matter how much their high-caliber musical tastes and funny sense of humor dominate (I lied – couldn’t resist).
But I DID make him say he’d let me follow along for one night to all the BDSM hot spots in town (all in the name of research!), so I could write an article on it for The Bold Italic. So there’s THAT. Maybe his top-to-bottom tour will switch me over to his side (okay, that was the very last one, I promise).
Overall – not a love match, but a date I definitely enjoyed every kinky, f$*#ing girthy minute of.