I love first dates. Love them. There's such a nervousness and electricity abut them that I can't help but get off on the nervous energy. A lot of people hate first dates but I figure a good one will have the right amount of laughter and convo and sexual energy and a bad one is good for the blog foddler so either way it's a win-win.
The one last night was good. Someone I have known for awhile now but never gone on an ctual date with. The right amount of laughter was there. Conversation. Manners. All in all a good date and worthy of a second one.
Then he drives me home and as we pull up to my place it's that awkward moment...you know the one....do you kiss or not? So we both did the nervous laughter and the fidgety stuff while saying the prerequisite, "I had a good time" blah blah....and then it's that moment. And we just sit there eyeballing each other to make the move for what had to be a full on thirty seconds ( Do you know how long thirty seconds is to do that? Go on and do it right now, stare down someone down for thirty seconds. Weird, isn't it?).
And he went in for the kiss while I went in for the hug. And he got my hair.
And then to backtrack, I went in for the kiss while he pulled away. So I full on missed.
So I muttered something about calling me and then played with the door handle to unlock it before realizing IT WAS ALREADY UNLOCKED and bolting from the car with a confused and somewhat amused guy waiting behind in it. And then shaking my head all the way to the door.
Goodnight kiss, fail.