The Date

The date with Mr. Nice Guy (from the shore this weekend) was great. Well, let me rephrase, Mr. Nice Guy was great. He is good in all ways. Good career, good hobbies, good interest, good athletic ability, and good looks!  He can talk about everything from my favorite show, the Closer, to obscure music to economics (which I am not as proficient at). And while I fancy myself to be fairly eloquent, unfortunately when I’m nervous, verbose would be an understatement.  I prattled on about every oddity that entered my mine. The duck that I want to have at home and train to use the dog door, my theory on x-men powers, and of course, the infamous story of how I broke my finger playing football last fall.  Oh my, oh my, oh my. Why wouldn’t my mouth just close and stay closed? What happened to playing it cool?

I was very nervous because he is SO good. Very calm, very smooth and I matched every inch of his smoothness with dorky conversation and awkwardness.  I like to think of myself as good in every way too and hope that one day the right guy will see that.  But it’s going to take someone with super strength vision to see through the muck that I was yacking about last night!

Will I hear from him again? I  don’t know. With his introverted tendencies and my overwhelming performance, I am trying to figure out how to swing the odds back into my favor!