While nursing a cold and watching seven consecutive hours of the Mindy Project on Netflix I decided to come out of my blogging hiatus. Let's just say the last two years of dating have been everything but boring.
Being in my late 30s I grew up watching the best of Meg Ryan, the beginning of Julia Roberts annoying persona and everything Sandra Bullock. Sadly. In the ol' days there was nothing close to a gay romantic comedy as all the gay themed movies involved sketchy sex, dying or sad coming out stories.
So these ladies where basically all I had.
Enter Man-Bun. Handsome. Assertive. Intense.
On our first convo on the apps he immediately insisted that we had to meet ASAP after I mentioned my pro-monogamy views and semi romantic stand of dating. After a lot of insisting on his part, he asked me to go to his condo.
The condo that was spotless. Think showroom clean. Decorated in the style that I can only call Wall Street Chic with a side of Emo Liberace.
What followed was a very intense game of chicken as he decided to not really talk much and stare at me intensely while the local news played on his tv. Not going to lie, I was into it, that was until I was interrupted by eyebrows going up and down and him winking at me.
The staring continued for a couple of minutes until I stopped it by going for a kiss. He was pretty sexy after all and he was into it. I guess I lost the game of chicken after all. We chatted for a bit and then he said. "I am taking you for a date on Wednesday."
Cut to Wednesday. The date involved the worst sushi ever ordered on Uber eats. Wine that I brought. and it was followed by a bizarre drive around the neighbourhood to find a bar and a phone call interruption from his friend. Who insisted to meet him in the middle of the street on the way to the bar to say hi. An insistence to which he comply to and got out of the car and left me waiting for five minutes while they had a catch up.
The chat at the bar was nice actually. Maybe it was the two beers I drank. We went back to his place and kissed some more. The make out session was interrupted when he stood up and went to the bathroom to get his tweezers which he used to take two hairs off my ears, 'cause you know, they were bothering him.
It was after we had sex that I realized that he got his romance ideas from 90s thrillers when he decided to fold all my clothes neatly in the bathroom while I took a shower.
Needless to say. After getting a glimpse into his Sleeping with the Enemy vibes, getting a very Single White Female energy from his texting, I decided to stop things before we went Fatal Attraction on me.
And they say romance is dead. I think they might be right...
