FINALLY! The dating floodgates have opened and now, I practically need a secretary to keep my appointments straight on my calendar! Where have these guys been?
Jeeze! It feels like I have been on a dating dry-spell for years, and now I’m getting bombarded with suitors?! It must be my new online dating profile. Either that, or the Dating Gods are now smiling down upon me for doing something right.
I’m not going to lie, there is still that residual energy…thoughts…whatever you want to call it, regarding DC Dude yet, I am determined to move forward. Even if I have to date everyone in New York City! Ha!
So, the other day, I got home and I spotted my neighbor, John, standing outside his house smoking a cigar. I like John – he’s in his 60’s and just a class act – happily married, well-traveled, and just has a wealth of knowledge to share. (Plus, he told me I can take out his BMW M3 whenever I want to – and you know how I love my fast cars…)
As I was getting out of my car, I noticed John ushering me over and, as usual, we start to chit-chat. He tells me that he just came back from a two-week trip to Italy with his wife and a good friend of his who he considered to be “like a son.” He tells me all the fabulous things they did in Italy, all the while giving me the hard sales pitch on his friend. From time to time, while describing his friend and his two-week long tour of Italy, he’d turn his head, take a puff off his cigar, and in very contemplating manner, blow the smoke up in the air very, very casually. I could tell he was contemplating something.
“You know, my friend is single, and I actually brought you up while we were in Italy. I really think the two of you should meet.”
My first knee-jerk reaction was of course, “How tall is he?” John looks up in the air, scratches his beard and showing me with his hand he says, “I think he’s about 6’1″.
(More than likely, the guy is only six feet tall which, still isn’t bad but, *wrinkles nose* I would prefer taller. I’m 5’11”, I need a tall man.)
As our conversation continued, I’m thinking, “Do I have enough time to squeeze in another date?” My dance card was getting full at that point. Match from Hell was paying off – I had three guys on the roster already:
1. Landscape Guy
2. Interior Designer Dude
3. Swedish Psychologist Dude.
But, what the heck? Why not? What’s one more date? What’s one more guy………?
I realized after John’s great sales pitch that I was going to have to give him my phone number. I grabbed a scrap of paper out of my bag, wrote down my digits and handed it to him. Reading my phone number out loud, John seemed quite pleased with himself.
As I was walked away, he added one more thing, “Oh, by the way, Carrie, my friend has three children. Fourteen, twelve and nine.”
Fourteen, twelve and nine……….
Suddenly, in my head, I became Julia Roberts in the movie “Stepmom.”
OK, well John….that would be an important piece of information to give me before I agreed to meet your friend. Three children? That’s a lot! Not that I don’t like kids, but that’s definitely “instant family” right there. Kinda scary, if you ask me!
Walking over to my house, I yelled back, “Thanks for that information John! Hey, by the way, what does he look like?”
Confidently, he says, “He’s looks like Conan O’Brien,” waves good-bye and walks into his house.
Wait, Conan O’Brien?
My blind-date called me two days later and, after a nice 20-minute conversation, we made plans for a dinner-date the following night.
The night of my blind date, I got home and tried to talk myself out of going. We all know that blind dates are disastrous…what was I doing?! He’s probably going to be fat and short – oh, my God, this is going to be painful!
By the time I had was ready, and had bitched several times why I should be canceling my date to my roommate, the doorbell rang.
Right before I answered the door, I took a deep breath and said a small prayer. I decided that whatever the guy looked like, I was going to be gracious.
When I opened the door, what I discovered was not a look-alike of Conan O’Brien, but a very handsome man! Hell, I practically fell over because my blind date was hot! Not quite six-one, but…
…we all knew he was only going to be 6′ anyway.
Dinner was very enjoyable. He spoke immediately of his three children – two boys and a girl. He had married his high-school sweetheart, and had been divorced for 8 years – simple enough. He was in sales so he had no problem holding a conversation with me. I was thoroughly enjoying my date.
He was definitely easy on the eyes. I couldn’t help but notice that he was a really good-looking guy with a square jaw and looked more like Ed Harris (with a full head of hair) than Conan O’Brien for damn sure.
Hello! Ed Harris! Meow!
I have always been a sucker for that strong, square, Irish jaw….
Wait, my father has the same classic, Irish look – small nose and strong jaw.
Moving right along…
I’m two glasses of red wine in and we are onto the subject of last names. I happen to be really be fond of my last name. My date seemed to like it, too. Then, he tells me that he’s actually not Irish, but Scottish…and said his last name was “McSomething.”
*SINGING IN MY HEAD*
La-la-la…I’m feeling no pain…Scottish…Irish…whatever, it’s all the same to me (seeing I’m both as well). I take another sip of my wine, but stop mid-sip and blurt out, “But, wait…I thought your last name was O’Brien…”
*BLINK-BLINK. TILTS HEAD TO SIDE*
For the love of God, in my hazy red wine moment, I couldn’t think of where I got the idea that his last name was “O’Brien.” I was drawing a blank, and it didn’t help my awkward moment when I started mumbling my own thoughts out-loud. Ooops!
Once I realized my error, I was quick to switch the subject, never knowing if my blind date knew his friend, John, described him as Conan O’Brien…
Despite my big dating faux pas, we ended the evening with a little kissy-kissy make-out session in the car when we said good-bye when he dropped me off at my house.
(By the way, he was a good kisser.)
The following day he sent me a text, “What a good time, I enjoyed my blind date!” I responded back by saying basically the same thing, but I didn’t hear from him after that. OK, fair enough – I had fun, and this is what dating is all about. At least, that’s what Nathan, my brother, keeps telling me…
Well, Nathan, I had fun!