Precautionary Measures, Fatal Outfits

As I prepared for dinner & a play with ELECTION DATE, I adhered to the typical third date rituals: clean sheets, shaven legs, condoms under the pillow. However, the rituals were more of a precautionary measure. I wasn’t actually sure about sex with ELECTION DATE. I suppose the fact that I was thinking so hard about it should have been my answer. But what if we had a really great kiss goodnight that I wanted to continue? We loose women tend to decide on these things last minute.

He picked up me up wearing the same gray hoodie and jeans he’s worn every time I’ve seen him. He could have at least put on a sweater - if not for the theater, then for me. I felt silly in my pretty dress. Things only got worse when we arrived at the restaurant and there was another couple there. A surprise-attack double-date! He forgot to tell me his friends were coming along. To top it off, they were wearing hoodies too. My boner was gone for good.

At the end of the night, I kissed ELECTION DATE and then told him I wasn’t inviting him up to my place.

HIM: Okay…. Why not?
ME: I don’t want to have sex with you.
HIM: Oh… I shouldn’t have asked that. That was weird. Sorry.
ME: That’s okay.
HIM: I still think you’re pretty.
ME: I still…No.

Moves

After a decent movie, ELECTION DATE [sparkly-eyed co-worker/date for election night] and I went to the Mexican place across the street for dinner, where the conversation flowed and the silences never felt awkward. There were no overblown stories about his life to make him seem interesting, and yet not a lot of self-deprecation either. Just the facts, eloquently spoken. He mentioned school, and I asked if he was a writer, but it turns out he majored in eastern religion, which explained his easy nature on the spot.

After dinner, I walked with ELECTION DATE to his car. We stood on the quiet, foggy residential street, and talked about seeing each other again, and I wondered whether we’d have a kiss goodnight.

*A side note: Of all my ‘moves,’ I’ve found toe-tapping to be the best indicator of whether someone wants to make out. I tap my toe onto their toe, and then just look at them. No winking or smiling. I just wait for the kiss. Go ahead and try it.

Speaking of moves, I tapped ELECTION DATE’s toe, and this sweet, shy guy in a dirty sweatshirt instantly put his big hands on my back and firmly pulled me in, shifted me to one side into half-dip, and gave me hottest, sweetest second kiss ever.

Second Helping

I got an email from PIZZA [the tv guy with whom I carried on a telephone/email affair, followed by one weekend romp]. He announced he’s coming to my city on business in a couple months.

We’d left our relationship where it was when I left his city a couple months ago: a really great weekend, with no further expectations. It just wouldn’t have made sense to pursue one another, considering our busy lives and the great geographical distance. PIZZA and I still talk occasionally in a friendly-but-still-flirtatious way, leaving the romance option open, without the pressure.

The emails about his trip are downright giddy. We’re already discussing where we ought to have dinner, and what kind of pajamas we’ll wear and take off immediately. I can’t stop smiling.

Meanwhile, I continue to court ELECTION DATE [my coworker & date for election night], and our first night of work since I’ve had a crush on him was managable. While I gave him some instructions in front of another coworker, his eyeballs were twinkling like mad and I had to look away. We were probably standing too close and I may have touched his elbow one time too many, but no one seemed to notice. I hope.

Goooood.

The post-election dating world is on fire!

At a friend’s birthday party last night, I watched three love connections happen in under an hour. It seems that everyone is going to get laid this winter. And I refuse to be the exception.

While chatting with an acquaintance, I felt a kiss on the back of my neck. I turned around to find GALLAGHER, a large, loud firecracker I had a few dates with last year. He’s adorable, kissable, intelligent, but entirely overwhelming – always needs to be the center of attention, and doesn't take no for an answer. The fact that I continue to say no seems to be the main reason he perseveres. As hard as I try to blow him off for good, his ambitious brand of flirtation (and lack of pride) charm me every time. Our conversation last night:

HIM: Girl, what are you doin tomorrow?
ME: Um…
HIM: We’re goin out. Dinner. Anywhere you want. I wanna spend money on your fine ass.
ME: I have to work.
HIM: You always work! Blowing me off again! Don’t blow me off!
ME: C’mon. You always make me feel bad.
HIM: You got it wrong. I don't wanna make you feel bad. I wanna make you feel gooood.

I declined the date, but he's on the back burner. In the meantime, ELECTION DATE [sparkly-eyed coworker] has invited me to a play in a couple weeks. I am impressed that this shy man who wears the same dirty hooded sweatshirt every day has the wherewithal to think ahead, and plan something interesting at that. Still zero flirtation, though. Is it sad that I'm turned on by that? Am I GALLAGHER?

Helmets

Before getting on my bike to meet with ELECTION DATE [um…my date for the election], I fussed a bit over my outfit in the reflection of a car window. I dug into my purse to see if I had something perfume-y until I remembered that every time I see this guy, he’s wearing the same grey hooded sweatshirt and mismatched argyle socks. So I shrugged and put on a helmet.

A bit of gossip: ELECTION DATE is the coworker crush. While I don’t normally drink the company ink, we keep having interesting & comfortable conversations. I love talking to him. And his eyes sparkle. They do! One of the last things we spoke of was politics, so I took a chance and invited him to share in this big night. It felt a little heavy-handed, like asking someone to prom. I mean, we’ll remember that night forever. But I got over it when he rolled up to my bike all sparkly-eyed.

We hugged a lot during the election brouhaha and he wiped some mascara off my face after I finished crying, but there was a clear line drawn, mostly out of nervousness. He is very shy and seems to think through his words and actions quite carefully. I followed suit and behaved as a coworker and friend. No flirting…Until we were saying goodbye.

We straddled our respective bikes side by side on a busy corner. A few hugs were shared, and I managed to touch his elbow or hand a few times to test the waters. Then while talking about how much fun he had, his eyes got so sparkly I couldn’t take it any longer. I put my hand on ELECTION DATE’s his cheek and leaned into his mouth and kissed it. Just once. Real quick. He was smiling when I pulled away, which I hope is a good thing. Then a drunken passerby said, “Aww. Look at the retards in their helmets. So cute.” ELECTION DATE nodded dutifully at her, as if to say, “Yes. We are retards,” and then pedaled off into the red, white and blue mayhem.

Happy Ending

It’s not only the autumn weather that’s getting everybody frisky. Apparently, presidential elections get them hot & bothered too.

A friend just described voting with her boyfriend, in booths next to one another, and I couldn’t help but find it sweet. And somehow no one would be caught dead watching the results and speeches without a mate. The term “Election Date” is being thrown around, and suddenly I have that feeling I get before weddings and Valentine’s Day.

But there is something to all of this. The months leading up to the election are not unlike sleeping with someone special. You meet somebody, think about them non-stop, forget what their face looks like, tell everybody who listen how amazing they are, and then when you finally have sex, it’s a release of all that anxiety, whether the results are good or bad.

And maybe it’s a little romantic too. I can see the value in looking back 20 years from now and saying “You were conceived the night the Barack Obama was elected president.”

So, for the sake of my country and getting rid of that pit in my stomach, I’ve summoned my own very own Election Date.