Date Ten

Note:  I am counting Spring Break as three dates.  My blog, my rules, I win.  Well okay, mostly I lose, but give me a break.

The Set Up
   I get back from spring break and I am done, DONE, with men. I have been flirted out and hit on so many times that I am utterly exhausted and disgusted by almost all members of the opposite gender.   If Gen-Xers are any representation of what is to become of our generation’s men, I am scared out of my mind, because they use the same exact moves as their sons, who are twenty years younger. Also, cruise socializing has zapped me of the high energy that is required for dating.
   I rant and rave to some of my Yentals, a few of whom were expecting this breakdown much earlier. So I officially throw in the dating towel and step out of the boxing match called “College Dating” in hopes that I will magically bump into my true love while clumsily dropping my books on CyRide. Yes, he will pick up my books and our fingers will graze. Our eyes will glance, both knowing instantly that we have met our soul mate. Then, there will be no spots on the bus except for that lonely un-chosen seat right next to him. He shyly says hello while I mention my clumsiness and we begin a conversation that is so deep we make two loops around campus. It could totally happen, right?
   Well my strike lasts one or two days. Then the College Gods, the same spirits who created Thirsty Thursday, magically cancelled classes and winning streaks in beer pong, step in and have their way with me.
   The Friday after spring break all I want to do is hang out with my friends. I am not looking for a huge social event or anything that could be a potential college legend. I just want to take it easy. Plus I’m majorly sick. I have been having horrible migraines all week long and my stomach has been topsy-turvy and my body just aches. I blame post-cruise depression, but it’s really probably because I was with several thousand people in a relatively small space for a week. But after taking
several painkillers, I go to a free campus event anyways.
   While I am chatting up one of my lovely buds, I see a guy who just looks nice. Also he is foreign.  Obviously I can’t help myself. I “black widow” the poor boy and get his number by the end of the night after, no joke, two minutes of conversation.  I impress all of my girlfriends by teaching them the new parlor trick of the obviously desperate pickup and go on my merry way.

The Date:
   We try to meet up on the weekend but it just doesn’t work. We already have made plans so we try to meet up during the week. However, the first time I see him, post pickup, I’m running really late for class. A lot later than I usually am, so I can’t say anything to him but a yelp of, “Can’t talk! Class!” It’s rude, but I really am desperate to get to class. I see him the following day, and he is also standoffish.  However, he quickly texts me that he had to run off to class that day. I get a little worried, but he sends me a text assuring me of plans and whatnot,
   We end up meeting midweek on campus to get “dessert” which apparently means a shake or smoothie or something. He gets there first and picks the worst spot right next to the counter. I am able to overlook this glaring oversight because he speaks with an accent. And an accent means prince, which obviously makes me a future princess.

   We just talk for an hour or so.  We don't have much in common, but he has traveled the world so I pretend that he is a Baron or Earl.  We mostly compare the places we have traveled.  His life revolves around golf, a sport that I know nothing about so I have a hard time finding common conversational ground. But, things still go well, but I’m getting a little tired so I tell him I have an early morning meeting and have to be going. He tells me he wants to hang out again and I agree.


Results:
   Yeah, it was pretty standard. Nothing special or anything. And also I didn’t try because it was mid-week and my Wednesdays are filled with classes and meetings so I pretty much give up on myself.  Now, my giving up on myself is a lot different than the normal person giving up on themselves.  I was still in a skirt and boots and attempting to be not-too-manically-bubbly, but I didn't wear makeup and I brought a book with the expectation of getting some studying in.
   Also, when you hang out with a foreign person it's always a little difficult because the cultural frame of reference is completely different.  So even though it seems super exotic, it's not like you both grew up watching the same cartoons or even have the same sense of humor.  It can be a little difficult just for the two of you to feel comfortable enough around each other because that instant cultural connection that most people share just isn't there. BUT accents are still pretty awesome.

Grade of Date:  B (Nothing special, nothing awful.  Just a normal, regular, get-to-know-you  date)
Grade of Match:  ?  (It was really hard to tell)