He sent me a very sweet (and perceptive!) email complimenting my online profile and saying how attractive and intelligent I am. His profile was pretty good, with could-go-either-way photos. However, I noticed that for kids he put down "happy with what I have". Now I'm not going to rule out dating a guy with a rugrat, depending on the circumstances. I will rule out getting seriously involved with a man who is adamant about never having kids. I don't want to have them tomorrow, but someday, probably.
After some deliberation as to whether to reply to his note at all, I wrote back stating my pro-children-eventually case, expecting never to hear from him again.
To my surprise, Tyler wrote back. He said he didn't mean to rule out the possibility of ever reproducing again, merely that he loved his daughter, even though she lives far away, and would be satisfied if that was the only offspring he ever produced. He also said he still wanted to meet me. I figured any guy that was going to respond to my bluntness so positively deserved a date. Plus, he was local, which made logistics easy. I asked what he was doing Wednesday. He was free and suggested 8:30pm at a dive bar nearby, offering a more upscale location if dives weren't my thing. Guys, are you paying attention? This is how you make a date with a lady. I agreed to the dive bar (it had been a while since I had a good dose of squalor).
Yesterday was a rough day at work and I was looking forward to having a drink or two in the evening. Also, since we were meeting somewhere low-key, I didn't make much of an effort with my appearance. I touched up my make-up and switched into jeans and sneakers (I almost never wear pants on a first date, and never sneakers). I thought about doing my hair (washing it, straightening it, etc.), but didn't do any of that because a) I figured I'd meet this guy for about an hour so why go to all the trouble and b) I had my inner game going. I felt switched on and it didn't matter whether I wore a heavy sweater or a little black dress.
TV Tyler wasn't kidding when he said it was a dive. There were only two patrons inside, which meant that my date was either the sixty-year-old man in a gray sweatshirt or the bespecled hottie walking toward me. Wow.
The general rule of thumb with OP guys and their profile photos is that you take the least flattering one and expect them to look like that in person, if not a little worse. Once in a while, a most wondrous thing happens.
The unphotogenic phenomena.
Some men (and women, for that matter) just don't photograph well, even though they are perfectly attractive in real life. Tyler is one of those men. Which isn't to say his photos are bad, but they do a poor job of reflecting the hottitude that is TV Tyler in the flesh. That was the best surprise. Oh, and guess what? He's tall, blue-eyed, and has sandy hair-- if his name was Dave, I'd have a complete set!
We hugged hello, the sides of our faces brushing against each other. What's that little sizzling sound I hear; could it be a spark? Hel-lo!
I took a seat next to him at the bar, ordered a drink, and before you could say "vodka-cranberry", he was handing the bartender a twenty. He bought all the drinks and when I offered (even mildly insisted on) getting a round, he shook his head and said,
"I'm the guy; it's my job."
I could think of another job for him involving handcuffs and Redi-whip, but I think that would require at least a second interview.
We talked. I tried to be a good girl and pay attention, but I'll admit to drifting off from time to time, wondering if there was going to be kissing, thinking about what it would be like to kiss him. He had that appreciative gleam in his eye, so I think the sparkage was mutual.
One of the really sexy things about TV Tyler is that he looked like a total yuppie with the glasses and tidy hair and button-down-shirt-under-sweater combo. Underneath it, though, he's got this wild streak and lots of drug stories (I love exchanging drug stories) and this deadpan attitude that makes you know he's one of those guys that would mercilessly tickle you until you positively begged for mercy, and even then might not stop. Rowr.
This would be a good time to point out Tyler's fatal flaw. Okay, not fatal, but pretty big.
He's not a question-asker. I hate that. I had a serious boyfriend like that once; he believed in not prying and said if I wanted to share something with him, I would. I believe in social graces and showing a curiosity towards the person you are talking to. I ask a lot of questions; I like to be asked questions.
Tyler was also a little tricky to talk to because he would tell one story and would sometimes go off on a tangent before I could jump in with my related anecdote. So I'd sometimes have to backtrack and return to the previous topic, because dammit I want to share my Radiohead story!
For me, the highlight of the time spent in the bar was when I said something he found particularly amusing, and laughed one of those long, full-bodied laughs that requires a moment to recover from. Ladies, I don't know about you, but the second best thing to making a guy come is making him laugh. There's something so satisfying and almost erotic about it. (I mean, he laughed at other points in the conversation, but that one was particularly intense.)
Anyway, Tyler walked me home (he lives five blocks away from me). Outside my place, we did that rambling talking-about-nothing-for-christ's-sake-when-are-we-going-to-kiss-already shuffle. For a moment, I thought the evening might end with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. In fact, when we hugged good-bye, I think he went for in for it, but got my cheek because I wanted the tight, lingering hug first. We loosened our arms and I dove right in for the kiss.
The kiss turned into a long make-out session on the sidewalk. Hooray! We ignored all the passersby and kept right on smooching. Tyler was a pretty good kisser and did all the nice boy things I like while making out, like stroke my hair and the side of my face. Finally we pulled away, smiled at each other, and I went inside.
I think TV Tyler might be a bit too issue-ridden for me to be a BF prospect, but considering how smokin' hot and close by he is, he is prime booty call material. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow, I'll send a "had fun/let's do it again" email.
The great thing is, waiting for me when I got home was an email from another guy I've been in touch with, asking me out. In fact, he's instant messaging me right now, so I better go...