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Monday, November 26, 2012

Smelling Delicious, Gobsmacked and the Affect That Tall Women Have on Me

"You smell delicious."
And that, my friends, is the quickest way to make my head swoon.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.  Ok, ok, I'm an absolute sucker for flattery; I can, at least, admit that.  And I do pride myself on smelling good, even if most people never get close enough to notice (the trick to smelling good is subtlety, after all).  But really, a simple phrase like that and my head gets all floaty. 
I will say, though, that I am in love with my perfume.  Ladies, if you like a soft vanilla scent with just a hint of plum top notes, do yourself a favor and check out Boyfriend perfume.  I'm not kidding - it does smell delicious.  Anyway, I digress… back to the topic at hand.

I recently went on a date with a woman who turned out to be the loveliest, most pleasant surprise.  (Thank you, Santa, for answering my last letter requesting a few new faces.)  Leading up to our first date, I was skeptical.  I mean, I liked this one's online profile - she seemed to exude grace and confidence, and she's direct yet almost poetic in her delivery.  But as I tried to get to know her through emailing, I was sensing some resistance, and that is never a good sign in my book.  If I sense a disconnect at all leading up to a date, it almost never goes well.  But I decided to take a chance anyway - if she turned out to be a total weirdo, I'd at least have something amusing to write about.  I do it all for you, people!  I hope you fucking love me.  (*wink*)  As it turns out, she wasn't a weirdo at all… at least not that I can tell… yet.
When we met, we greeted each other with a hello, a smile and a friendly hug, upon which she said, "Mmm, you smell delicious."  And let me just get this out of the way for all you skeptics: she didn't say it in a pervy, creepy uncle, 'would you like some candy, little girl?' way either.  She was genuine with just a hint of flirt and a whole lot of confidence.  She almost took my breath away right in that moment.  But, as I am skeptical, and reserved, and very cautious about getting my hopes up these days, I made some stupid joke about not purposely trying to make myself edible, but thankyouverymuch for the compliment.  Score One for the perfume and Penalty One for the horrible wit.  (*bangs head against keyboard*)  I really am a hopeless dater.
The plan for our date was a scenic motorcycle ride, followed by a drink at a divey bar.  Here's what I love about motorcycle dates (besides the obvious extra "cool points" I get for riding one): Necessary Physical Contact.  Physical contact tells you everything you need to know about just how well your date is going.  And you don't always get physical contact (or that kind of information) when simply having a meal together or meeting up for drinks.  Let me elaborate:
Every stranger is a bit tentative about how and where to hold on to their driver when riding on the back of a bike.  Naturally, your passenger does not want to fully wrap their arms around you if you've only just met and they generally try to not squeeze you too tightly with their legs.  I get it.  It's awkward being *this close* to someone you've only just met.  (Passengers, take note though: your driver does, in fact, notice your body language even if our backs are to you.)  However, as your passenger begins to get to know, trust or become attracted to their driver, their grip on you changes entirely.
That is how our date began.  'Pleased to meet you, you smell delicious, now which route should we take to our destination?'  And just like that, she climbed onto the back of my bike, gently placed her hands on my waist, ever-so careful not to squeeze this stranger too tightly, lest she give her driver the wrong impression, and we took off on our scenic drive.  We parked the bike at the top of a hill, which overlooked the bay, found a log to sit upon and began to just sit, and talk, and laugh and drink Irish Mochas (which she prepared and surprised me with for our sunset date - yep, she got points for that one!).  And I began to think to myself, while trying desperately to focus on what she was saying, 'she's a lot prettier in person', 'she has nice lips', 'she's really tall and she's wearing high-heeled boots', 'ooh, I like the top she's wearing', 'this date isn't going as badly as I thought it would'.
We sat on that log for probably 2 hours or so, just talking, laughing and getting to know each other.  It was really nice.  But since we both had plans with our respective friends after our date, we couldn't sit perched on that log forever.  We had to eventually make our way back down the hill and go our separate ways.  So we headed back to my bike, climbed on and started to drive.  This time, however, her hands were not so tentatively placed upon my waist.  She wrapped her arms around me entirely and hugged me close to her with both arms and legs.  (So fucking heavenly.)  So I casually slipped my left hand off the handlebars and placed it on hers to let her know that she was welcome to hold me as tightly as she'd like.  Intimacy and trust firmly established in that single moment.  Now, how often can you get that kind of information from a first date so casually and innocently?  Score One for the motorcycle.
As we drove down the hill and back towards civilization, I realized that I didn't really want to end the night so abruptly.  I was enjoying myself and I got the distinct impression that she was too.  So I suggested that we have just one drink before I dropped her off at home.  And so we did.  We sat, we talked, we laughed, we sipped our cocktails ever-so slowly and every time she leaned in towards me to say something or to listen to whatever god-awful story I was recounting, I couldn't help but think, 'should I kiss her now?'  But I didn't.  (Damnit!  *bangs head against keyboard*)
After our hour-long drink (I told you we sipped slowly), I walked her back to her door.  I wanted to stretch out our date as much as I could.  I was really enjoying my time with her and when she invited me to walk her home, I was happy to do it.  As we said our goodbyes, I was insanely aware that this pretty, interesting, funny, intelligent woman was towering over me in her high-heeled boots… As if I wasn't already feeling mildly attracted to her over the last 3 hours together, this just did me in.  Tall?  Towering over me?  And in heels?  Um, yes please, more please.  Miss-Adventures is putty in your hand.  She leaned in, gave me a very nice lingering hug and the sweetest kiss on the cheek.  She looked at me for only the briefest second, said to me, "You really do smell so good", and then turned and walked towards her house.  I wanted to stop her.  I wanted to grab her, pull her in and give her a real kiss goodbye.  But I just stood there, utterly gobsmacked that I had just had this visceral reaction to someone that I never saw coming and I never expected.  As she walked her way towards her front door, I started to walk away myself.  Hesitantly but willfully, I walked away.  And after about 15 steps, I wanted to beat my head against the pavement.  'Why didn't you just kiss her, you idiot?'
And now I find myself trying to play it cool.  I texted her after our date to let her know that I really had a good time and that I'd like to see her again.  She texted back and said that she did and does too.  The part of me that really wants that kiss is screaming at me, 'Call her you idiot! Get the next date on the books, for fuck's sake!'  But I can be a little intense.  Knowing this about myself, I'm trying really hard to hang back, play it cool and play it casual.  I think I'll call her up in the next day or two and get that date on the books.  I'm just praying that 'playing it cool' doesn't cost me in the end.  I really want that fucking kiss!

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