A lesson learned the hard way.
Earlier this year, I was amazed by the thought that anybody could want to date me at that particular point in my life. Not that I was horrendously disfigured or anything, but I was unemployed, pretty much homeless, and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Being desirable despite all this was eye-opening to me in so many ways, and even though I knew up front that this particular relationship wasn’t going to last, I was able to learn a lot from it.
The most important thing I learned was that I CAN be defined my more than just my job or home. I have agonized about this for years, especially since as a teacher it is so easy to be defined by your profession.
The second most important thing I learned is that I need a guy with a sense of humor. Maybe not someone as completely ridiculous as I am, but somebody who can laugh with me, and who can make me laugh. I suppose most people say they want somebody with a sense of humor, but I never realized what a damper differing senses can have on a relationship.
When I met G at the bar just before Thanskgiving, I was ready for a change of pace. Not only was he older (but still within his limit!), but we had an evening of laughs just chatting with stranger an elbow’s length away. And I was excited to learn that he had also “taken a hiatus” from the working world to figure out what he wanted to do with himself, during which time he took a class on stand-up comedy. Now we’re talking!
G walked me home, gave me his card, and eventually we arranged a date. Plans changed a little bit, and we wondered around the White House trying to get a glimpse of the tree lighting ceremony. It was nice to be spontaneous, but eventually we gave up on catching a good look and continued on to our original plan of ice skating at the sculpture garden. It was superbly fun: we laughed, we bumped into each other, we compared favorite Christmas songs. After skating, we walked up to Gordon Biersch and had beer and dinner, along with more awkward conversation. And finally, at the end of the night, we Metro’d home, at which point I forgot to pay attention to where we were.
Here, my darling Readers, is where I teach you how NOT to end a first date.
Do NOT, on any occasion, end your date by losing track of your stations, realizing it is your stop, and bounding off the train like your pants are on fire as the doors ding and begin to close on you. It just doesn’t look good.