I had my first date-after-Jake last Friday. Not too bad – 3 weeks since break-up, Diana is back to dating! Good for me! I dressed up (black power pants and shirt) and when Paul called, me, let my lovely new brown boots take me down to the road.
I was already ready and waiting when he called, of course. I figure we girls always are on first dates. We start being late when we feel comfortable with the bloke, or when we really don’t care much. On first dates we are ready, but will make the guy wait a bit anyway. Not too much. We don’t want him thinking we are disorganized, inconsiderate or totally lacking self confidence (should I wear black or red, etc).
A guy should wait just enough so he knows that we are feminine - a bit late is cute – and that we are not jumping at the opportunity of seeing them. Too eager is always urgh….and yes, I´ll admit it: I was eager to meet Paul.
So I ran into the coffee shop next door to get cigarettes before he got arrived. My dear Cuban friends who work stared at me and I got 2 “que guapa”, which was nice – but also made me wonder what I usually look like. Mental note: stop leaving the house in overalls, even to buy cigarettes.
Sometimes I wish Jake was having me followed, so he could see moments like that (the good ones, of course). Problem is, he´d also get to see the overalls and me throwing out too many wine bottles…not good. Is drama-diva back in fashion?
Paul got completely lost picking me up: he called when he figured out he was in the neighbourhood and he then drove round a roundabout 4 blocks from home for 20 minutes. I stood waiting for him by the road - and got one more “guapa” (from an ancient neighbour – female).
He finally arrived, though, looking nicer than I remembered. We chatted away about business all the way to the restaurant. We then chatted on about our current emotional states through appetizers and about our plans for the future during the main course.
He was proud the valet who parked his car thought I was his girlfriend. He said my mother must be gorgeous (she is) because of how beautiful I am. (Note: this is corny, but - as long as the mother is still alive - it goes down well). He said he wants to get married and have children. And even though I know this is the going line to bang girls in the thirties, I actually believe him. This is a good man.
He did it all: opened the car door, was nice about my refusing to have an extra drink and entertained me telling me all about the most famous ghosts in Madrid all the way home.
I was already ready and waiting when he called, of course. I figure we girls always are on first dates. We start being late when we feel comfortable with the bloke, or when we really don’t care much. On first dates we are ready, but will make the guy wait a bit anyway. Not too much. We don’t want him thinking we are disorganized, inconsiderate or totally lacking self confidence (should I wear black or red, etc).
A guy should wait just enough so he knows that we are feminine - a bit late is cute – and that we are not jumping at the opportunity of seeing them. Too eager is always urgh….and yes, I´ll admit it: I was eager to meet Paul.
So I ran into the coffee shop next door to get cigarettes before he got arrived. My dear Cuban friends who work stared at me and I got 2 “que guapa”, which was nice – but also made me wonder what I usually look like. Mental note: stop leaving the house in overalls, even to buy cigarettes.
Sometimes I wish Jake was having me followed, so he could see moments like that (the good ones, of course). Problem is, he´d also get to see the overalls and me throwing out too many wine bottles…not good. Is drama-diva back in fashion?
Paul got completely lost picking me up: he called when he figured out he was in the neighbourhood and he then drove round a roundabout 4 blocks from home for 20 minutes. I stood waiting for him by the road - and got one more “guapa” (from an ancient neighbour – female).
He finally arrived, though, looking nicer than I remembered. We chatted away about business all the way to the restaurant. We then chatted on about our current emotional states through appetizers and about our plans for the future during the main course.
He was proud the valet who parked his car thought I was his girlfriend. He said my mother must be gorgeous (she is) because of how beautiful I am. (Note: this is corny, but - as long as the mother is still alive - it goes down well). He said he wants to get married and have children. And even though I know this is the going line to bang girls in the thirties, I actually believe him. This is a good man.
He did it all: opened the car door, was nice about my refusing to have an extra drink and entertained me telling me all about the most famous ghosts in Madrid all the way home.
I don’t like his hair or his dress sense. Conservative and boring. Shoulders are an issue – not wide enough for my taste. Definitely not wide enough to carry boring clothes, you need to be hot to pull that off. These things can be worked on, of course. Those are the things one can change in men.
Unlike obsession for one’s career, selfishness and arrogance. Damn, damn, damn - I like Jake´s hair, I love his clothes – and I won´t get started on his shoulders.
I am in emotional suicide mode. I must be kept at home and tied down until I start admiring corduroy.
1 comment:
Thanks for writing this.
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