You hear a lot about the meet cute in old movies & books. Unless you have a cute meeting story, your relationship is inevitably doomed. Nobody winds up with the girl they met at a bar.
If our story was any indication, Haley and I could have had a damn near perfect life together. She stumbled into my life on a snowy eve. I was in Westchester due to some familial obligations and walked into snow accumulation I wasn’t prepared for. I went scrounging around the back seat of car for something to brush it off. I lit a cigarette and started getting the snow off the back of my car. Next thing I know I hear a shaky, squirrely, cold voice.
Do you mind if I borrow that, after your done?
I turn and see this cute, short blonde with rosy red cheeks that I attributed to the cold. I stopped brushing my own car, and handed the snowbrush to her. She smiled and thanked me. I introduced myself to her as she cleaned her car off. After a few minutes of pleasantries and more than a little flirting, I suggested a cup of coffee, or hot cocoa to warm us both up. She turned me down, but offered a rain check.
Come Monday evening, I cashed in on that rain check. The following are from my during-date tweets.
Waiting for a date reeking of coffee beans about 18 hours ago from twidroid
Is it bad the counter girl is mildly cuter than the girl I’m waiting for about 17 hours ago from twidroid
And here we go round 32 about 17 hours ago from twidroid
Fixer about 17 hours ago from twidroid
Hm not bad but…about 16 hours ago from twidroid
You can ascertain a few things about my date. The first is that, although she was cute, the barista I have been digging for a little while is slightly more attractive. I also was reeking of coffee beans from sitting in the coffee shop while they were roasting. Haley, however came in with a smile on her face, and an orange stained sweatshirt. She was a few minutes late and immediately apologized. She told me she lost track of time while developing pictures. Having taken a few photography classes, and honestly enjoying/missing it, we spent a good time talking about photography and our experiences. I had to tell her about how I was forced to see my naked teacher posing as if he was dead. Sadly, this actually happened to me. We took a little walk with our coffees, which would have been a lot nicer if the snow from the previous few days hadn’t all but melted. Her hands smelled like fixer, and I chided her for it. I don’t think I can make it entirely through a date without a girl either laughingly telling me to shut up, or hitting me in some way. I guess I have some sort of battered wife syndrome.
So we kissed, and everything was going great. She wanted to get a nightcap at my place, but I had this nagging feeling telling me that that wasn’t the best idea. We said our goodbyes and I kissed her again. So, I went to the nearest convenience store, with the smell of fixer transfixed on my hands and mind.
And I really, honestly had a good time, but I couldn’t get into it. Kara has clouded my head up, which is why I, after a few beers, twittered this.
Uh maybe that was dumb about 12 hours ago from twidroid
hmmmm…