First date

Last night I went on my first online date. The man did not bring a shovel or a pickax nor did he wear a Michael Jackson glove. He was well-groomed, spoke in proper English, and did not bite. And he looked like his picture. Some of my friends reported meeting guys who would post pictures from their high school yearbook only to learn that these guys gained a hundred pounds since. In my case, my guy was quite cute.

I'm usually terrified of attractive men, but he had a slight air of unpretentious goofiness that put me at ease. We met at a bistro downtown and talked. And talked.

It was one of those great conversations where you lose track of time, where you talk about everything from Marxism to Dennis Rodman, where you forget there are other people in the room so when you pound the table cackling at an insanely funny story, you don't notice the twenty or so patrons staring at you with disdain. So much fun. All in about three hours on a Monday evening.

At the end of the evening, I shook his hand (too formal?) and told him I had a great time. We exchanged our real numbers and he said he'd definitely call me (will he?). Then he opened his arms to hug me and so we hugged.

All in all, a great date. I hope he calls. God even as I blog this, I can't help but well up with excitement like a giddy little girl.

My guy friend told me some guys humor girls and tell them they'll call, hug them, etc. and then end up never seeing the girl again. I found that disconcerting. Yet my friend assured me this dude will probably call. Then I wondered if my guy friend was, in guy fashion, humoring me. I suppose we'll see.