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  • Marriage Proposals: 5
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Managed to date for at least 2 weeks:
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All material on this webpage is protected by an army of slavering hell bunnies that will bite on command. Ok maybe not, but clearly I have an excess of hostility and am just looking for an excuse to use it.
Give away your books at BookMooch.com

Copyright © 2002-2012.
Can I Get A "That Ain't Right" From the Front Row?
Last Thursday I met a rather nice lad, let's call him Nice Guy Eddie. I will spare you the long introduction as we all know that my dating life tends to be like the battle scenes in the Iliad, you get this big long exposition about some guy and his grandfather and his shield and his childhood only to find out he was stabbed five minutes ago never to written about again. I met Nice Guy on Thursday, we went out for drinks on Saturday, and well, he's a nice guy.
Let me clarify. He bought all drinks unasked for. He is completely attentive to what I want (Do you want to stay and have another drink? Are you tired?-Without any "Do you want to stay and have another because I'm really having a good time (wink, wink).") He walked me home, made sure I got inside alright, and the farthest he went was a kiss on the cheek. The man is paragon of restraint.
I must say I was dubious about nice guy. I went into my date on Saturday thinking "OK an hour is all I have to stay." And ended up staying for about five. He is quite funny. (I've got him hooked on the antler dance-don't ask.) He knows movies. He sensitive. He asked permission to call me in a few days when he left me on saturday night.
Now we all know that if I ever actually could accept the love of a decent man the whole damn planet would go to hell. The delicate equation upon which the function of the universe is based would be thrown out of whack to the detriment of all. So the wellbeing of the universe has a vested interest in keeping me chasing after man like UDR. So you know when I find myself liking a decent man, well, trouble is afoot on little kitty feet.
We went out last night. We were having a good time talking about 80s movies (Breakfast Club, Peggy Sue Got Married, Better Off Dead) and suddenly he says, "I think we need to talk about us."
Now, that sentence NEVER indicates good news. I've never had a guy lead into "Let's get married and move to the Berkshires and raise free range antelope" with "We need to talk about us." But it is REALLY bad news when you hear this on a second date.
So I put on my innocent expression (yes I have one that I keep in the back of the closest for special occassions) and he progressed, "Look when I left San Diego (exposition: he moved to NY from San Diego in August) I left behind a girl I was dating for three years. We didn't really talk about what was going to happen, and she's going to be coming here next month. I could totally see myself dating you. I mean, you're a cool chick. You're smart, your're funny, you're easy to talk to, you're beautiful, but you know, I don't know if I'm allowed, if it's ok. I should have brought this up before, but you know I didn't really know you or if I would even want to go out with you. But I want to be clear. I would love to date you. I would love to take you to dinner and movies, but I guess it's just bad timing. I mean, I'm still going to call you and hang out with you."
Bunni's inner emotional response: Christ, I could be sleeping right now. I have literally hundreds of papers to correct. I'm trying to grad school, and I'm fucking exhausted and I showered and put on make up and tried on three different outfits for this? Shit.
Bunni's verbal response: Look, that's fine.Thank you for telling me.
Nice Guy continues to apologize. Finally the conversation got back onto track we talked about grad school and Paris and for the love of G-d and all things holy Vegas. (Yes, my least favorite place on the planet aside from Florida-which is correctly described in the Simpsons as "The Wang of America.")
Again he walked me home. I stood on my stoop. I could tell he didn't quite want the evening to end, but I had to go to sleep and so did he. And well I knew I wasn't going to stay up half the night kissing him on my front stoop. He said, "You know I think we need to see Team America this weekend. I'll call you." He kissed me on the cheek, waited for me to get inside safe, and went home.
All I can say is shit.
If I didn't believe he was really a nice guy, that this was some sort of line, it would be easier, but I do genuinely believe this guy meant what he said, which means it really is just bad timing. Would it kill the universe to give me just one break?
Just one?

Bad Bunni posted at 11/11/2004 10:04:00 AM   |  
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