Busboys and Bad Dates?

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Washington, DC is filled with achievers.  For every entrepreneur, there is a corporate player.  For every socialite, there is a social blogger.  In other words, for every interest there is person that is interested.  Given this fact, locating a good networking event is simple, but finding a good date is bit more complex.  It requires more than the exchange of a business card, or the follow-up of a Facebook Friend request.

So, when good dates finally occur, it's like finding a Four Leaf Clover...the participants can't believe their luck...and they don't want the good date to end...BUT...the ending is exactly what they anticipate, for it generally determines how good that particular date actually was.

For example...

If the date concludes with the guy sweetly kissing your forehead...walking you back to your door....but he does NOT ask to come inside...you can bet that he will rush home and count down the minutes when his free minutes kick in and he can call you after 9pm...

On the other hand...

If he begins with a church hug (leaving space for Jesus), closes the gap with a bear squeeze, and slowly begins massaging his fingertips in your fresh hair weave...he'll call you...but probably 30 minutes after he dropped you off...to ask you if it's alright to "come back over and upstairs for coffee."

The elusive first date, and the even more elusive "good ending"...is hard to find, but when it's found...it's like finding the gold-filled pot at end of a rainbow...

Somewhere Near the Waterfront...

I met A Long Walk at his place. Generally, I am not a fan of the "come over my house so we can chill" date, but he had coerced me by promising an abundant supply of fruit roll-ups and bottomless bag of potato chips (both of which are my guilty junk food pleasures).  When I arrived, his smile was just as bright as I remembered and he was holding a great big bag of UTZ Salt N Vinegar...mmmmm....
Ripping the bag open and plopping down on one lone chair at his dining room table, I watched as A Long Walk eyed me, beckoning me to join him on the couch...but...A Long Walk was SOL, because  I know what happens when two, grown, hormone-affected, young people start eating potato chips on comfy couches.  I was perfectly happy with sitting alone with my potato chip bag.

Or, was I?

A Long Walk looked so dang satisfied on that couch, with his long, muscular legs spread out, leaving plenty of room to for me to fit in between....


Meanwhile....at Busboys and Poets on the other side of town....

Flower Child was applying bright ruby red lipstick to her full lips, and preparing to return to the dinner table with Baldy.  Flower Child had met Baldy several years ago while working as a receptionist. Baldy had been the youngest director at the firm, exceptionally brilliant, tirelessly ambitious, and engaged...to a woman with all the characteristics of Betty Crocker and Aunt Jemima combined.

Not one to sweat the competition, Flower Child - who hated anything remotely domestic - began making herself  "available."  If  Baldy needed someone to proof an email, Flower Child would  be "available" to read the message while lightly brushing her breasts across his knuckles on the keyboard.  If Baldy was headed to a meeting, she would be "available" to adjust his necktie - casually running her finger up and down his chest.

For her, it was only logical that she had played a tremendous role in the news that Baldy revealed two weeks before his resignation: he was breaking off his engagement.

Tonight, as she was headed back to the dinner table, in a skin tight leopard-print dress and 5 inch, black leather heels, she knew just what to do make herself "available" one last time...

Near the waterfront....

The Jackson 5 movie was blaring, and I had been coerced out of my seat to dance to "I Want You Back."  The sound was on high, and A Long Walk was doing the moonwalk around me as I giggled moving my hips to the rhythm.  He took my hand twirled me around, hip bumped me, then dipped me low before we both fell on the couch laughing hilariously at how silly we had just looked.

"You're really light on your feet, Bree."

I had to admit, I liked the way he said my name.

I smiled, trying to catch my breath. Then he got up, turned off the television and clicked on Michael Jackson's "You Are Not Alone."

"Can I have this dance?" he said.

At Busboys...

Flower Child was listening intently...nodding, smiling and laughing at appropriate intervals as Baldy talked about his career, meeting appointments, and networking events.  Then, the conversation moved to why his engagement had ended. While he talked about his ex-fiance's need to spend more time, total disregard for his hectic schedule, and her need for more intimacy, Flower Child softly interjected with...

"that bitch" ...
"unbelievable" ...and...
"shame on her"   

When the check came, Flower Child got up and stood behind Baldy, slowly rubbing his head, massaging the sides of his neck and squeezing his shoulders in slow, circular motions.

"You're a good man Baldy,"  her hands slid down to his chest. "You deserve to have a woman who really understands you."

Back on the Waterfront...

A Long Walk's hand moved up and down the small of my back, as we rocked slowly back and forth to the music, methodically, and in tune with the beat.  The streetlights around his place were few and far between, so his apartment was dark except for the lights on his stereo and a lone table lamp.

When the music ended, we settled on the couch as another song began to play.

I rested underneath the crease of his arm and we sat there sharing blueberry fruit roll-up and talking about our funniest memories associated with Michael Jackson songs...then the clock chimed MIDNIGHT...

Knowing my empty apartment held nothing but time and opportunity to remember the broken relationship with my ex. I turned to A Long Walk and said:

"Can I stay over here tonight?"

At Busboys....

Flower Child and Baldy strolled out the restaurant, her hand was resting softly on his forearm and his hand was boldly rubbing her backside.

She smiled up at him as they approached his car.

"I guess this is good bye," she said.

"It doesn't have to be; what are you doing tonight?" he pulled her close pressing her tightly against his body...

Flower Child suddenly felt a strong urge to sip and share a Starbucks Chai Latte...and following him back to his car, she was happy that she had done her kegels and packed a toothbrush.

Near the Watefront...

A Long Walk rose from the couch and pulled me close to him, kissing me lightly on the top of my forehead before reaching for his shoes.

 "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm about to walk you to your car, Bree. I can't trust myself around you, so I'll have to respectfully decline your offer to spend the night."

...
...


Wow!  Just Wow!....

....
....

Two different dates.
....
....
....
Two different endings.
....
....

Flower child was putting her kegel practice to good use, and I was humming "You Are Not Alone" on my drive back to my apartment complex.

Had my date with A Long Walk really been that "good?"

Or, would I be one of those single women in DC who thought she had just experienced a "good date," only to find out that her four-cleaf clover was missing a petal? 

Time could only tell...

Basketball and Bald Headed Men

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People always guess incorrectly when attempting to identify the sport I loved most as a little girl. Inevitably, they say something girly like: "combing my barbie doll's hair," "playing dress-up" or "skipping."  All of which are cute, but none of which are the sport I loved most: basketball.  As a girl, I loved to put on a dirty pair of sneakers, long nylon shorts, a Chicago Bulls jersey and play street ball with the neighborhood boys.  The guys would never take it easy on me, often throwing their weight at me while going up for a rebound, passing the ball with extra force, or shoving me out of the way to dive for a stray ball.  I learned a lot during these games, the most important of which was, basketball is generally a team sport.  Though I could perform at the highest level, my greatest plays could only be achieved with the help of the other four players on the court.

Some of the basic fundamentals one learns in team sports, can totally be applied to the dating world!  

You can play the game one-on-one, BUT it's best to have a team of people who understand exactly what - in this case, "the who" -  you're trying to win.

So when I decided to leave A Long Walk alone,  I called up some of the players on my home team:

My Girls - Melinda (a.k.a - Ms. Diva); Anne (a.k.a - Southern Charm); and Tiffany (a.k.a - Flower Child)

My Boys - Bob and Chris

More specifically, I texted my boys and told them I was back on the market and asked if they had any single friends.  Ten minutes later they replied: Happy Hour at DC Bar - 7pm - Let's Play Hitch.

Bet!

I suited up (but this time in stilettos and a tight black dress) and arrived ready for:


The Game Plan - which involved Bob and Chris picking a guy at the bar, lingering in the background as I introduced myself, and then providing pointers on how to improve my game (if i needed to improve my game).

Sipping the last of my strawberry mojito, I spotted a 6'4, copper-colored, bald-headed, young professional man in a black business suit and cautiously approached him, carefully surveying the court for other female players....And as I got closer, I realized Baldy and I had previously met.

Score!

But wait....time out....upon further revaluation...I realized that homeboy looked a little too familiar.   Matter of fact, I had met him at a cookout a few months ago when my girl, Flower Child, mentioned that they had connected.


He was still cute, though, and I figured if I could determine the type of "connection" he shared with my friend than he and I could proceed.

So, I was back in the game....

I decided to mention her name in the middle of asking about his day and watch for signs of recognition (i.e. "So how's your day been (dramatic pause)...seen a Flower, lately?)...nothing.

Then, I dropped her name a second time, while talking about the weather (i.e. Gee, it's really nice outside (extra dramatic pause, just for effect)....perfect weather to...perhaps...see a Flower?)...nothing.

As a last resort, I just got direct with him.  "Hey Baldy, do...you...know...Flower?"

He gazed at me with a blank stare and with zero recognition.  Slightly annoyed with him, I  began spewing out her hair color, defining her skin tone, and describing her physical build.

He looked down for a second, and vaguely acknowledged they "may" have met.

SCORE!

But then there was silence...awkward, uncomfortable, "grab your cosmetic mirror check from your purse and check for lipstick stains on your teeth" silence.


I heard myself say:  "She's my friend." (Silence) "I work with her on a project." (Silence) "She still lives in the area." (Silence)


Pulling out my business card, I told him I might need a man like him to assist with the project involving Flower Child and myself...then slowly walked away...and...NOT because I was trying to show him my "get 'em" girl walk but because Bob and Chris were glaring at me from the sidelines with the stank eye.

You mentioned Flower's name entirely too much, Bob, who's a teacher, lectured!


"But!" 

More than 90% of the conversation involved describing another woman, said Chris, the wannabe accountant (hence the percentage). 

"But I was trying to..."

If the conversation is about business, make it about business, I could almost swear a lectern materialized out of nowhere as Bob continued.  If the conversation is personal, keep it personal.  Who the heck cares about a work project, if ya'll are just talking weather?

"Damn."

I called a time out. Ordered another strawberry mojito.  He might email, I thought.  Maybe. Especially since it was obvious he hadn't "connected" to Flower in an intimate manner. 

Either way, there are no tears in contact sports!  I picked myself up, reviewed the failed play in my head, suggested to Bob and Chris that we try again at another bar, and shouted to the waiter....

CHECK PLEASE!

You can't win, if you don't play.

I was determined to get back in the game.

Dating in DC continues with Dating vs. Drowning...make sure to leave your mark and post a comment!


And...watch for a new post every Wednesday....