I was nervous for the date with Smushed Andy, so nervous in fact I had a cocktail - whiskey on the rocks - while getting ready. I then changed my outfit six times in the last four minutes, destroying my room and ultimately panicking and wearing what I wore to work the day before. Note to self: stop wearing turtlenecks on first dates because I get sweaty and probably look like a puritanical prude.
So there I am, running down the street in skinny jeans, a turtleneck and a leather jacket, sweating. To add insult to injury I dyed my hair that afternoon and had inadvertently dyed a jet black widows peak into the skin on my forehead. I realized after I left my apartment that I had combined black hair dye, a white turtleneck and heat/sweat. Ultimately, I was a walking shitshow.
While trying to get out of my neurotic head I see an attractive person passing me. You've got to be kidding me! Hot neighbor! For the first time since I told him he was perfect, and he asked me out, I saw Hot Neighbor. Seriously? Come on universe, give a girl a break. I was late so I smiled silently and kept walking.
I got to the restaurant before Smushed Andy and waited inside trying to cool down and calm down. He got there shortly after. He was cute, totally a smushed down version of Andy Samberg, only a couple of inches taller than me with a nice smile.
We sat and talked and ordered and talked some more. There were no awkward silences or weird spans of time. We shared an appetizer and a dessert. It was a lovely dinner, very pleasant in fact. But it was work. You know when you're supposed to be charming so you actively engage in conversation? The date felt like a great job interview for job I'm not sure I'd want. I was "on" the whole time, focusing on body language, eye contact, etc but it didn't feel natural. I was trying too hard. After two days of reflection, I realized, quite simply, it was a very nice date but I didn't have any fun.
I talked to my mom about the sate on my way home - I should never call my mother when I have a buzz - and told her I was coming from a first (and probably last) date. Surprisingly she told me, almost pressured me to go out with him again. She mentioned it again last night. And after a moment of annoyance I said something that I believe says it all, "I'm working so many hours, I only go out one night a week. I want that night to be fun."
Was it a good date? Yes. Is Smushed Andy nice and smart and engaging? Yes. Do I feel more and more like there is something wrong with me? Yes. I mean, seriously, why is it so much harder for me than everyone else? Or is it equally difficult for everyone who is actively, and unsuccessfully, looking for a partner - and we all feel like we're broken at one time or another?