I Was in a Situationship the Past 4 Months
After the absurdity of December 2021’s triple whammy of the hobosexual, the flake, and the only-wants-one-thing dude, I had every intention in 2022 of shutting down my dating apps from Thanksgiving to the new year.
But I left them open again and ended up matching with Sam Rockwell’s doppelganger in early December. He lives at least 90 minutes away but immediately agreed to meet me halfway so I gave him a shot.
I chose the restaurant but hadn’t been to that exact location. Unfortunately for both of us, I hadn’t thought it through: a Friday night in mid-December in Southern Louisiana. Loud, drunken holiday parties surrounded us. The tiled floor acted as an amplifier, making the cacophony of intoxicated revelers even louder.
Additionally, we were seated at a table that was at least 6 feet wide. We were SO far apart and it was SO raucous. What I thought would be a quiet, intimate dinner was comically non-romantic.
In fact, normally I would have parted ways with him and not agreed to a second date. But he had spent some time getting to know me leading up to the date, had not been creepy for even one second, and the date lasted long enough that I found myself feeling a tiny twinge of attraction.
Typically I’m very decisive on dates but every once in a while, it’s not a no or a yes. It’s a maybe.
To my surprise at the end of the meal, I found myself looking at the bare skin of his neck and wanting to run my finger along it. Honestly, I was caught off guard by that.
I’ll point out that a lot of people are proponents of shorter coffee dates. I can appreciate that, but I can also say if we’d had a shorter date, I would not have had the chance to let our chemistry and energy marinate. And there definitely would not have been a second date.
As I drove away, I didn’t know how to feel. I just kept coming back to…maybe.
We ended up talking on the phone that night and I was relieved to know he’d felt the same way. The loud restaurant, the table distance, and the need for both of us to drive back to our respective towns (heck, states — I live in Mississippi and he lives in Louisiana). We…