Dating via Text [Piping Hot Nerd]
I recently went on a coffee date with a guy who wrote to me from an on-line dating site. I feel sometimes like I am still wearing a black dress over my last relationship and going to coffee is my way of showing the gods and myself that I am making an effort to “move on.” He was nice. Not as tall as I like, but nice. Intelligent. Shaved head which is not my thing, but intelligent. Polite. Way too baggy clothes for my liking, but polite.
It is just coffee, I keep telling myself. I have always confused a cup of coffee date with “Do I really want to spend the rest of my life with you?” And who made me the Mr. Blackwell of fashion and height and hair anyway?
We had a really nice time and when he asked if I wanted to get together again I said yes without reservation. I am working on being open and not absolute.
He texted me on Thanksgiving to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. That was really sweet. I texted back and said I was stuck in Newark on my way to California. He texted back: “Which gate?” It turns out I was at 137 and he was at 132. We would have our second date in the Newark Airport! Alas by the time I saw his text he had boarded his plane to Atlanta and I was waiting for my burger and shake (Shhh: I’m on Weight Watchers.)
“Okay let’s do this again” says the director in my head. “He is going to text you and you are going to see the text right away this time. And you are going to meet at Gate 135 and sparks will fly and clothes will fit and height and hair issues will melt away and excitement for Thanksgiving to end quickly so you can spend the rest of your lives together will ensue.
Instead I sat with my 750-point burger and shake at a shared table while he sat on the tarmac maybe 100 yards away. And we texted. And texted. Like Junior High texted. It went from polite to flirting and then a light form of “sexting.” My first. I was enjoying every back and forth. It was so much fun to be flirty and filthy right in the middle of the United terminal.
My Atlanta-bound lover then texted me “Is it me or the fantasy?” Yipes. Was I turned on by him or was I into this game of flirty texty fun? I wanted to answer that it was him, but how could it be I only met him once and that was about a month ago? I couldn’t answer that it was the fantasy only, so I said both. Which I am sure it was. We carried on from there until he had to taxi. What fun it was so be excited about someone, something again.
Now to step from behind the smartphone and be face to face.
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featured image credit: vnaylon