Dating Mr. Nerd

So, for the first time in my life I am actually SINGLE, and not only am I single, but I am single in a city where "singleness" is actually a lifestyle, a credo, the rule of life for majority of people my age. My dear friend Mari recently showed me a dating website in the attempt to drag me out of the misery caused by my last breakup, and to gain the opportunity of making new friends (tho the last part of this statement could really be much harder than expected, but we'll get to that...). So I said, "Hell, why not? Let’s do it and see what happens". I don't know that I can say disaster fast enough, but let me explain.


So last night I went on date #2 with a guy I will call Mr. Nerd (his real name is actually Matt, which, for the ones of you who know me well, is the name of my ex fiance`,the guy who pretty much took the last bit of good left in me and carelessly threw it in the toilet after pooping on it and flushed it).So, anyways, Mr. Nerd had the privilege to get to date #2, mission which he has so far been the first one to accomplish in a group of about 4(ish? Can't remember them all, which often leads to awkward moments where you don't know whom you have spoken about certain things to and whom you have not). I felt like Mr. Nerd had "it": he was smart, cute, funny (dry sexy sense of humor, I like), a gentleman, took me to the right places, and had this special way of caring for my pet peeve, which is trying to find a parking spot in San Diego on a weekend night; he even parked my car for me so that I wouldn't get flustered and upset!:)


He took me to this Mexican restaurant in North Park where they make homemade tequila and pretty awesome food too, actually. We spent a couple of hours talking about his students (he is an assistant at UCSD soon to get his PHd in political sciences), how he gets drunk to grade papers faster, how sleek looking shoes make an ideal companion to any job interview, how we both love the 90's music, how blah, blah, blah...I was having a ball. Perfect date, just perfect. So as he was talking about his gay best friends and how they are his personal fashion advisors at our second bar in Hillcrest (btw fabulous Margaritas!), I started thinking about what was wrong with him. Here is my thought process explained in a few simple words:


"Ok Matt, apart from your name, I like you, and I can always change your name to whatever accommodates me better in the future. Now, tell me what's wrong with you before I even start bothering about this. You seem sarcastic (good), pleasant (good), your breath doesn’t stink (great!) and your clothes don’t smell like it’s 1985 all over again (GREAT!). So, what is it?”


Without my knowledge, I had jinxed my whole relationship with Mr. Nerd right there in that moment, in trying to concentrate about the hidden flaw that could break the deal. Mr. Nerd and I went to what he named “Gay Denny’s” afterwards. I didn’t believe there could be such a thing as gay Denny’s, despite the fact that I was indeed in Hillcrest (duh!), but he proved me wrong. Oh my gosh, how fun! We ordered desserts and kept on talking about life; at this time we had moved on to the serious stuff, aka past relationships, how we deal with a broken heart, with ex’s, with vengeance. Mr. Nerd seemed a very well balanced and reasoning individual. He wouldn’t hurt unless hurt in the first place, and wouldn’t get down to vengeance unless vengeance came naturally to him (like it ALWAYS does anyways). I was thrilled with this guy; he totally qualified for date #3. However, I couldn’t stop being nervous about that hidden flaw that had occupied my mind briefly earlier during the night.
We eventually left “Gay Denny’s” (lol! Which, ironically enough it’s called “Brian’s”, the name of my latest ex, the one who slept with me and never called me back because he was back into business with some other chick, but couldn’t really let me know before jumping my bones. No, I haven’t gotten over the nastiness yet, don’t ask…errrr….) and he walked me to my car. I was anxious; I knew that our first kiss was soon to come. So, I opened my car door and put my purse on the seat. I hugged him good night and we kissed.


AND THERE IT WAS! At the very end of the night the thing that I had most feared for the past 5 hours of our encounter had finally revealed to me: the kiss was horrendous! One of those kisses that makes you wanna crawl out of your skin and disappear in outer space without the possibility of coming back to earth. His tongue was ALL OVER the place, in and out faster than I could take a breath. Ewwwwwwwwwww!! He didn’t catch my disgust, but abruptly stopped (fastest French kiss I’ve ever gotten) and asked me, “Do you wanna go in your car?”. Oh my Lord!I was being offered a makeout session with a man I just almost puked in the mouth of. I kindly answered, “No”, but I didn’t really want to hurt his feelings, and I could sense his embarrassment (and mine) quickly building up in the air, so I hugged him again and kissed him for the second time. Oh no, that was it. I couldn’t do it. So I said to him, “I’m sorry, I am just tired and I wasn’t really predicting this (bullshit!)”. He was so sweet. He said to me, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you!”. Oh, how I wanted to dig a tunnel underneath my feet and poof! Be gone. But, no, I had to deal with the situation, and so I told him, “Maybe next time”. What a shitty answer to give somebody.


But I couldn’t help it. I started envisioning mental flashes of disturbingly horrifying sex, the kind of sex that has you thinking of how many potatoes you’re gonna need to make mashed potatoes on Thanks Giving, or how long you still have to pay your At&t bill at the end of the month. I couldn’t do it. I left. Back in my car, driving back home from that appalling moment, my GPS talked to me and I really couldn’t pay any attention to her. She always gets me lost anyways. I kept on reliving the moment of that kiss and the abhorrence kept on coming back making its way into my blood stream. “Ewwww! What was that?”.That’s pretty much all I could really concentrate on. I said to myself I wouldn’t date anymore and, damn it, I was right! I can’t date, because, see, after experiences like this, my mind always goes back to my most recent ex, Brian, the absolute nut job, inconsiderate mother** who left with no trace. Man, was he a kisser! And was he a great lover! Meh! That’s the past, now I have to deal with the present. So, ladies, I need your advice on this, “Give or NOT give Mr. Nerd a second chance for love?” .The bets are open.