So after a week or two of trying set up a time to grab drinks, Jersey and I finally decided on a Saturday night. I figured she would probably take a train or drive into the city for our night out on the town. I should at this point mention that Jersey is a few years younger than myself and is still actually in school. (College you sickos) We had since first meeting spoken a few times on the phone. The conversation was always good, no awkward silences or dull-never ending drabble. This coupled with always answering or calling be back soon after I left a message lend me to believe we’d have a blast.
She did in fact end up driving into the city after she worked all day. Already you can tell that there will probably be some scheduling issues seeing as though I work Monday through Friday. Nonetheless, I was happy to finally get to the point of going out. After all, this was actually only the second time we had ever met. I remembered a few key elements from the first time. She was about my height, (that’s about average…for a woman) curly hair, great tan, a killer smile and athletic build.
All of this was in fact true again when we finally met up, except her hair, it was straight and still looked great! I had her park in front of my building where I told her I would hop in and drive around with her while she found a place to park. (A dumb idea considering it was a Saturday night around 9pm) After scouring every block in the Murray Hill we opted for a parking garage near my place for a bargain price (insert sarcasm here). We headed back to my place for some wine to get the ball rolling. She said she was a fan of my place but also mentioned it was her “first New York City apartment.” At this point I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing…only the rest of the night would tell. After a couple glasses of wine, and what I thought was really good conversation, we decided to depart for dinner. The only thing that struck me as weird so far was when I went to top her off (her glass of wine that is) she said “no thanks.” “How responsible” was what one side of my brain was thinking while the other was thinking this was going to be dud of a night.
I picked a place on the Upper East Side called Panorama Café. It was just perfect. It was not too big or corporate (Carrabba’s) or too small and romantic (Il Cantinori). The only funny thing about this place was it was clearly an Italian restaurant but it had little odd elements like big brightly colored Spanish tiled bar and pitchers of sangria. That’s like a kosher deli serving sides of mayo.
Thankfully dinner went really well. Again, the conversation flowed from one topic to the next. The content was even quite real for a first date. There was talk of families and thoughts for after school. However for second time I was struck by a bit of shock we she said “no thanks” to a second glass of sangria from the waiter. I tried to act unaffected by this as if it were nothing, as if I hadn’t even noticed. But I did notice and for a second go-around my mind was going in two different directions.
Once the bill had been signed and we were outside, it was time for a judgment call. It wasn’t that late, maybe 11 or so. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to head back to her car and then back to her home state to call it a night? I opted for a location that was right between my place and garage. The cabbie as most do, got the location correct and dropped us off ten minutes later. I then threw up a late 4th quarter pass, hoping for a score. “Do you want to grab a drink around the corner, I know a great little place?” There was a bit of hesitation followed by a prompt “yes.” It was time for the Irish pub portion of the evening. But once again, when I asked if she wanted another beer, it was the phrase I had already heard too many times tonight, “no thanks.”
It was a short distance to her car and the weather was cold so needless to say I was walking quickly. I was again running through the chances of this making a turn for the better as the night seemed to be coming to a close. Once I got her car out of the garage (I say I got it because I paid for it. NYC parking is insanely expensive for those of you who don’t know)
With just a few seconds remaining on the clock, it was time to take a time out, get a final play drawn up. “Do you want to drop me off in front of my building” was all I could come up with…close to a Hail Mary I know. So there we are…like so many sitcoms and romantic comedies parked in front of my building. “I really had a good time tonight” she says. “Thanks for everything” soon followed. Both were nice to hear, truthfully they were. And then….I lean in…it seems like she’s really a mile away from me as I move closer, b/c we’re parked on an angle and she’s in the driving seat (literally and figuratively at this point) Soft…perfect…smooth…cheek! Yep, that was a full blown turn to the side, give em’ the whole cheek routine.
Now don’t get me wrong I was not pissed, after all I am a good guy. I just didn’t see this coming, much like the decision to not have ‘another’ three times earlier tonight. Did she just simply say “no thanks” to me, but not in so many words? You’re probably thinking yes, but here’s the kicker and the ultimate factor in confusion for me. We’ve spoken numerous times, she calls back, even called me a few times. We always talk for 10-15 minutes, but the moment I bring up getting back in the city for a second go around she doesn’t jump at the opportunity. Seems mildly interested, but nothing that is a clear cut sign she’s interested…I just don’t get it…any suggestions are welcome!
Thanks for listening