Vanilla: A Dating Story
This one is about a dude named Danny.
Danny, Danny who I have punched in the face so many times in my mind.
Danny and I met one afternoon at the river. Yes, yes, code red, code red.
After skirting around in his friend's boat all afternoon with my roommates, we decided to meet up again later that evening.
So, technically our first date was to a foam party that night (don't judge me- it was actually a lot of fun.)
And after the foam party I was a smitten kitten.
He resided in the greater LBC area, and I was living in San Diego. We lived those 2 hours apart and despite the fact we were inseparable. He came down on the weekends, I went up on my days off....
Now our first "real" date was to the Cheesecake Factory because of his professed love for chessecake. The wine was fabulous, the meal was scrumptious and the conversation was going well (not great, because I realize it is hard for a man to keep up with my interview-style dates).
And hindsight is always 20/20 but I should have known just as the dessert menus hit the table that we would not last. I'm talking SERIOUSLY incompatible.
Our server brought us that delectably lengthy cheesecake menu to which I squealed with delight. SO many yummy choices- which would I get??? The Wild Berry Cheesecake? The Chocolate Rasberry Truffle Cheesecake? Is it wrong to order more than one?
I asked him what kind he was getting, in an effort to be sure his choice didn't sound exponentially better than mine. He replied "Just the plain cheesecake."
I was aghast. It's possible my jaw dropped and eyes widened enough for him to ask back,
"Is that okay."
It's also possible I got into a lengthy speech about how one can't go to a place called "The Cheesecake Factory" and get the plain cheesecake. When on Earth would one have so many delightful choices again? Hmmmm?? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm?? We could have died that very evening and all he would have had was (gulp), the plain cheesecake.
My mind began to churn.... could I date someone who was so.... so.... vanilla?
Could I spend oodles of time and commute on someone who ordered cheesecake like a drone?
Is it possible I attracted someone so boring?
As it turns out, it was possible.
But, of course... I liked him. He had a lot going for him like a house with furniture that didn't originate from Ikea (what? I was in college, that was a big deal...).... and he had a vehicle with a/c and he rode dirt bikes which felt kinda' edgy.
Yes, yes, there were still questioning moments that came into my mind like when I got electrocuted at his house and he laughed (shut your mouth- it hurt!) or when he would pick up my belongings after I'd left them somewhere random and place them somewhere completely appropriate.
But he also did things like detail my car (he really was freakishly tidy) and change my oil, and a college gal could use such attentions.
And after a solid 6 months of dating we had our first falling out. I wouldn't call it heated, I would just call it a disagreement where he was wrong (obviously).
And so we needed a little time to think, and we decided to chat again in a short while.
But that short while became a long day and then a long week. Had we broken up?
No. Not even a little.
And I think that 6 months of dating warrants a proper break-up. But his way of breaking up was... I just won't call anymore.
Okay. So you're telling me that I put up with your plain cheesecake, perfectly pressed linens and house that electrocutes me for 6 months and your coward ass doesn't even know how to properly break-up?
Oh hell no.
And of course I took great joy in the after-the-fact-confession from my roommates that he wasn't that cute anyway and one of their boyfriends said he "sucked" at dirt bike riding.
How 'bout that?
And of course greater joy came when I took back the gift i had just bought him for the upcoming Christmas holiday- an XBox that I had camped out in front of Fry's to get him.
I remember walking back into Fry's and the employees looking like they had just seen Santa himself bring it in. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" one declared.
And I smugly walked straight up to the cashier for my refund. Sure, sure, sure, I could have made a small fortune selling it on ebay to some pushover parents for their spoiled child, but no. All I could hope at that point is that his parents had told him.. "you know she got you an XBox, right?"
And oddly enough, 6 months later, guess who started emailing me?
Danny, Danny, Danny who I had punched in the face so many times in my mind. And how like this coward to email me his sentiments and "missing you's" instead of, ahem, calling me.
Of course, I had long since moved from his very vanilla ways onto someone more cultured and mauve (that's another dating story altogether for which you will have to wait...)
And now Danny who sucks at dirt biking riding and phone calls is likely shacking up with some woman who may, or may not know, what a coward he is. Maybe they eat plain cheesecake together that rests atop almond-colored plates while sitting at a beige kitchen table surrounded by tan chairs. Their child is cradled in a taupe blanket and shakes an ivory-colored rattle. It's all so....
sooo....
Vanilla.
Danny, Danny who I have punched in the face so many times in my mind.
Danny and I met one afternoon at the river. Yes, yes, code red, code red.
After skirting around in his friend's boat all afternoon with my roommates, we decided to meet up again later that evening.
So, technically our first date was to a foam party that night (don't judge me- it was actually a lot of fun.)
And after the foam party I was a smitten kitten.
He resided in the greater LBC area, and I was living in San Diego. We lived those 2 hours apart and despite the fact we were inseparable. He came down on the weekends, I went up on my days off....
Now our first "real" date was to the Cheesecake Factory because of his professed love for chessecake. The wine was fabulous, the meal was scrumptious and the conversation was going well (not great, because I realize it is hard for a man to keep up with my interview-style dates).
And hindsight is always 20/20 but I should have known just as the dessert menus hit the table that we would not last. I'm talking SERIOUSLY incompatible.
Our server brought us that delectably lengthy cheesecake menu to which I squealed with delight. SO many yummy choices- which would I get??? The Wild Berry Cheesecake? The Chocolate Rasberry Truffle Cheesecake? Is it wrong to order more than one?I asked him what kind he was getting, in an effort to be sure his choice didn't sound exponentially better than mine. He replied "Just the plain cheesecake."
I was aghast. It's possible my jaw dropped and eyes widened enough for him to ask back,
"Is that okay."
It's also possible I got into a lengthy speech about how one can't go to a place called "The Cheesecake Factory" and get the plain cheesecake. When on Earth would one have so many delightful choices again? Hmmmm?? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm?? We could have died that very evening and all he would have had was (gulp), the plain cheesecake.
My mind began to churn.... could I date someone who was so.... so.... vanilla?
Could I spend oodles of time and commute on someone who ordered cheesecake like a drone?
Is it possible I attracted someone so boring?
As it turns out, it was possible.
But, of course... I liked him. He had a lot going for him like a house with furniture that didn't originate from Ikea (what? I was in college, that was a big deal...).... and he had a vehicle with a/c and he rode dirt bikes which felt kinda' edgy.
Yes, yes, there were still questioning moments that came into my mind like when I got electrocuted at his house and he laughed (shut your mouth- it hurt!) or when he would pick up my belongings after I'd left them somewhere random and place them somewhere completely appropriate.
But he also did things like detail my car (he really was freakishly tidy) and change my oil, and a college gal could use such attentions.
And after a solid 6 months of dating we had our first falling out. I wouldn't call it heated, I would just call it a disagreement where he was wrong (obviously).
And so we needed a little time to think, and we decided to chat again in a short while.
But that short while became a long day and then a long week. Had we broken up?
No. Not even a little.
And I think that 6 months of dating warrants a proper break-up. But his way of breaking up was... I just won't call anymore.
Okay. So you're telling me that I put up with your plain cheesecake, perfectly pressed linens and house that electrocutes me for 6 months and your coward ass doesn't even know how to properly break-up?
Oh hell no.
And of course I took great joy in the after-the-fact-confession from my roommates that he wasn't that cute anyway and one of their boyfriends said he "sucked" at dirt bike riding.
How 'bout that?
And of course greater joy came when I took back the gift i had just bought him for the upcoming Christmas holiday- an XBox that I had camped out in front of Fry's to get him.
I remember walking back into Fry's and the employees looking like they had just seen Santa himself bring it in. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" one declared.
And I smugly walked straight up to the cashier for my refund. Sure, sure, sure, I could have made a small fortune selling it on ebay to some pushover parents for their spoiled child, but no. All I could hope at that point is that his parents had told him.. "you know she got you an XBox, right?"
And oddly enough, 6 months later, guess who started emailing me?
Danny, Danny, Danny who I had punched in the face so many times in my mind. And how like this coward to email me his sentiments and "missing you's" instead of, ahem, calling me.
Of course, I had long since moved from his very vanilla ways onto someone more cultured and mauve (that's another dating story altogether for which you will have to wait...)
And now Danny who sucks at dirt biking riding and phone calls is likely shacking up with some woman who may, or may not know, what a coward he is. Maybe they eat plain cheesecake together that rests atop almond-colored plates while sitting at a beige kitchen table surrounded by tan chairs. Their child is cradled in a taupe blanket and shakes an ivory-colored rattle. It's all so....
sooo....
Vanilla.
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