My first date

For most of the Spring semester– for those of you not on school calendars, that’s late January to May– I went out with friends to pubs and bars. For awhile I was perfectly content with the platonic relationships but as the weather warmed up, so did my feelings and I wanted to start going out with people who would actually pay for my drinks and meals. Oh and someone who was actually romantically interested in me.

This would be a good time to note that I really had a strong desire to find someone who would be attracted to me. Little did I realize that I actually needed to reciprocate. One of those minor details that got lost in all of this hoopla.

A couple things arose from my new thirst for wanting to be wanted. First, I have the WORST game ever. I guess not everyone loves a deadpan personality. Who knew? Second, I have TERRIBLE social skills. Again, might go back to the resting not-interested face I apparently have glued on.

Eventually I was able to get a date with a well adjusted guy. I was so excited for my first date, but it was at a local bar, so it was pretty casual. A tshirt and jeans kind of affair. It was towards the tail end of lacrosse season (around beginning of May I believe). I remember telling my players I was going on my first date and they were extremely excited for me but also confused. For most the season they thought I was dating my friend who came to our games, hung out at our tailgates and would come over frequently to my apartment for dinner. Although it walked and sounded like a duck, it was strictly because I had Hulu Plus and happened to be a good cook too. And misery loves company.

During lacrosse season I pretty much live in sweatshirts and sweatpants so to finally get to go out not wearing something that read Drew Lacrosse was invigorating. Plus I had lost a ton of weight from SoulCycle and was ready to give the world another chance. I walked to the bar, and met my date and he was very soft spoken. Not what I remembered him as. Maybe he was nervous. As the date continued on, the awkward silences were frequent and it turned out that he wasn’t nervous at all. He was just an engineer, and lacrosse coaches and engineers don’t go together well; like Peanut butter and pizza. Good separately but shouldn’t be paired together. Even the waiter noticed the lack of chemistry and came over to talk about the specials and game night for way too long.

Finally he asked how long my last relationship was and I said almost 5 years. Of course the follow up was, “what happened?”

Well you see, so-and-so, my husband died. Oh did I forget to mention I was married?

Awkward silence for a minute or so. Finally he asked for the check. I offered to chip in, just to be nice and he quickly asked me to cover the tip. I obliged and dropped a $5 bill on the table. As we were walking out, he told me he had a great time and that I was easy to talk to. Are you serious? You were the other person across from the table right who sat there quietly as I yammered about my lacrosse season and SoulCycle, right? Outside the bar, we chit chatted a little bit about going out again soon and he reached in for a hug, and as I began to pull back from the hug he went in for a kiss. I quickly turned my head, wiggled out and said I’ll see him again soon then scurried the other direction.


Resting not-interested face

I have not spoken to him since. It was a good first date to get my sea legs back, because I realized that dating post-George is going to be a pain in the ass and I’d have amazing stories from it all.

About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s