I guess I was making up for lost time...I double booked my Sunday, although I was tired from a night of parting on Saturday. I should have laid in bed all day, but I couldn't help myself. My first date was supposed to start at 5pm. The plan: tea with the new guy. I met him before I left town. We got started a little late. The date started at 5:30, which caused me to feel a little rushed, because I had a second date for 7pm. None-the-less, a Diva never sweats under pressure!
So I hate dinner dates and any date that requires you to sit down and talk as a first date. Tea was no exception. Actually it was kind of lame, but because the plans were so last minute and I had other plans, I didn't want to do anything else...plus it was raining all day.
"Gary" and I meet at the place of choice and he greets me with a hug. We get in, and do the typical get to know you conversation...I was a little bored. So of course I'm checking him out and I'm not impressed. He was kind of cute, but his nails were F'N dirty. And I do mean F'N dirty! It looked like he just changed the oil, put in a new carburetor and changed 4 tires on a 1989 Buick. We sat and chatted. He's nice but...I had to facilitate the conversation too much...it felt forced. I tried to come up with something different (Two Truth's and a Lie) but he didn't take the bait the way I expected him to. We finally leave and I'm relieved. He walks me to my car, and gives me a hug. I thank him for a nice time, and he tries to give me a kiss. I turn my head, and do the cheek to cheek, European fake air kiss...whew.
I head to the cinema to meet the Old Man. Yep, our Sunday movie night. We see this great movie (Slumdog Millionaire) and both agreed the movie was great. I drive him to his car and we sit and talk for a moment. Mostly about the music in the movie and I told him how one of the songs was remade as a rap song. Then we kiss and he says he has something in store for us later in the month depending on my schedule. We talk about hanging out later in the week, then he says something that I'm not sure I'm ready to face.
Old Man: We need to have The Talk
Me: About what?
Old Man: Us. You can come over and we'll make cookies, and that will be a good time for us to to talk.
Me: (Damn cookies) Oh...the dreaded talk...ok
So I guess the time has come...damn, damn, damn. I hate it when someone says "we need to talk".
And what exactly is our "talk" going to actually consist of?