Like Vs. Like

You can like someone, and you can like someone.  Unfortunately, it's not always reciprocated, and if it is, it may not be the kind of like you want in return.

Such is the case with Tall, Dark and Handsome.  Sigh.  Bestill my heart.... I really really like him.  The problem is, yes, you already know, he likes me as if I was a cocker spaniel.  Or maybe not.  I don't know!!

Several months ago, TD&H suggested we grab some dinner (because I had to deliver something to him).  We went to a nice little Italian restaurant.  It was enjoyable.  I was nervous, a sure sign that I'm into him.  I wasn't able to spend too much time with him that evening, because I had someone else to go.  Somewhere in conversation, I inadvertently asked him out, to which he said yes.

He was a total gentleman, something I'm not used to but can really appreciate.

Joe, Joe, Joe....

I haven't seen Joe since Equator, although we have been emailing back and forth.

Except, I can't wrap my head around the awful email ettiquette.  A typo or three, fine.  Using 'b' for be, 'r' for are, 'n' for and, or 'd' for the, along with 'kno' and 'bak'... enough with the incorrect shorthand!  Don't be that lazy!  It's painful on my eyes!  It gets irritating after a while.

He's suggested that he wants to take me shooting.  Did I mention he likes extreme sports?

"Practice Dating" The Coffee

I met up with Joe at Equator... and he was on time!  I love punctual people!

As we head inside and get a table, I remember how he was on the hike and I gather he's a shy one.  I'm right.  Conversation is slow to start, but I'm patient because I know what it's like to be quiet and shy.

Then he explains how he's really new to dating because he's a former gamer.  Warcraft, anyone?  Oh, GAWD!  Again, I try to be patient, because that can't be all there is to him.  At least, I hope not.

We're talking over our fancy coffee. Well, he got the fancy coffee, I've got the straight up latte.  He keeps looking over... at the wall we're sitting next to.  Now, this is all practice, right?  Doing it for the greater good of the female population who may date Joe in the future.  As we keep talking, me to him, and he to the wall, I bring it up.  He realizes it as I point it out, but he knows I'm being constructive.  The he stares and I say not to do that either.  It was quite comical.

He does seem like an okay guy though, maybe socially awkward, but that can get worked out.  Poor guy... gamer... all he knows are fantasy characters.

He did walk me to my car and asked if I'd want to hang out again, and I told him yes.  So, we'll see...

"Watch the Paint"

"What??"

"When you mount the bike, watch the paint... I just had it done."

Myyyy goodness.  I had never been on a Harley before, and after that night, I'll never get on one again.

This date was completely by accident.  I had met Harley months ago, but the last time I saw him, we were with a group of people.  One lady recommended this Italian restuarant.  So, as the group disbanded, we were walking towards the parking lot and paused to chat a bit.  On some strange note, he even showed me his tan line -- stereotypical Floridian!  They need their sun!!!  Maybe I was distracted, or the 100 degree weather was getting to me, because before I knew it, we made tentative plans for the following week.

Except, those tentative plans turned into, "Let's check out that restaurant, but I pick you up on the bike."  So certain.  As if, I have no choice!  I could have said no, but started thinking that I've never been on a motorcycle, so what the heck.  What I didn't realize, was a ride to Ontario feels like forever when you're hanging on for dear life, and your face gets all dirty with exhaust.  I followed Harley's tutorial to a T, had appropriate clothing, and got there in one piece.

The restaurant was nice.  So nice, that the host wouldn't let him sit in the dining room for wearing a shirt with cut-off sleeves.  She was nice enough to get him a shirt from the kitchen staff.

Dinner went well and we talked quite a bit.  In fact, he wanted to know if there was a formula to making relationships work.  He talked about his past marriages... yup, that's plural.  So, although we chatted, let's just say there was no romantic spark.

When he dropped me off at home, he asked if there was a sweater or windbreaker he could borrow for the ride home (it had gotten a little chilly).  So I invited him in, and he ended up talking with my mother for about an hour!  Voluntarily, too...in fact, he also asked her about the secret formula for making a marriage work.  The crazy thing is, she enjoying talking to him... then she learned I went on a Harley Davidson, and that's another blog entirely, but she liked him.  I had to tell her he's only a friend, so not to get any ideas.

In the end, it was a proper date... He picked me up, took me out, brought me back.  Most importantly, I didn't scratch his bike.