*DISCLAIMER** This is MY interpretation of this date. The following is based on a true story. My life. Please keep in mind this is a blog on the interweb. I DO NOT want you commenting on her facebook/twitter/blog/etc negative things, I’m not looking to start a blog war. Feel free to comment on this blog, in fact, I insist you do. This is only a blog. Grow up.

Now this is a story, all about how, my life got flipped-turned upside down, and I like to take a minute, just sit right there, and tell you how I went on a date that ended in complete despair.

This blog is about a date. What was supposed to be, an epic date. It was date between myself and this other single, attractive, funny, Hispanic, blogger that lives in San Diego. Sounds like my soul mate right? Keep reading……

The Setup

Where to start, where to start…..I guess I’ll start at the very very beginning. The beginning is, how I even stumbled upon her blog in the first place. Good question. I guess it occurred during one of my weekly creep sweeps of twitter and facebook. You know, creep sweeps, where you type into facebook something you’re looking for and see what pops up. Here are some examples:

So yes, was doing one of my weekly creep sweeps, when I ran across her facebook fan page The Dating Chronicles of a San Diego Single. So, me, being the mature adult I am, didn’t send her an message, didn’t make any actual contact with her, instead I posted about it on my facebook fan page like an 8^th grade child.

The ball kind of got rolling from there. Everybody was asking when I was going to ask her out. This I had to think about, was I going to ask her out as Single Steve or Real Life Steve. The best advice I was given, came from this girl:

We were at a bar, 1, 2 or  8 drinks deep when Kelly told me I need to man up and send this girl a real email as Real Life Steve. So I did. I took the serious approach, for once. Here is the email I sent:

After that we set a date. I was actually nervous and slightly excited. Which is rare for me to feel that way about a date, especially after my last date. So anyway, we then decided that it would be a fun idea to let our readers make suggestions for our date. It was funny because she posted the question to her twitter followers first, and she was getting some really good legit suggestions.

When I posted it to my twitter, this is when I realized my readers might be assholes. I’m JUST kidding, you’re not assholes, most of you, some of you are just funny. Here’s the advice I was given:

So as you can tell I got some really good input about my date. I actually did get some good suggestions on places to go. I knew she liked Italian food and wine, so I made reservations according. I actually made reservations at 3 different Italian places in San Diego. I figured it was better to have options, than to not have options and end up at Peter Piper Pizza and yelling “Surprise!!” I canceled the other 2 reservations hours before the actual date, after I picked out the perfect spot….
The day of the date, I left early work, got my gangster fade, got my car washed and even bought some new jeans, just for this date. Like I said, it was on, like donkey kong. Later, while on the actual date, I remember thinking and probably saying out loud “I got my car washed for this!?”

The Date

I google mapped her place and saw she lived “6 minutes away”, me being narcotic about being punctual, left 20 minutes before I was supposed to pick her up, you know, just incase. I drove by the place, got my bearings and parked down the street. I was actually nervous for this date. Weird. I don’t get nervous. I can present to a group of hundreds with no problem, but one pretty girl and I start stuttering and fumbling my words, and yes, I get nervous.

I pull up to her condo, park, get out, and text her that I was “huuur”. On that note, at this point, we had not spoken a single word to each other, nor had I actually seen more than a side profile photo of her. I guess that’s how the cookie crumbles when you facebook/twitter/stalk/blog meet someone. I’m outside waiting for her, she makes her way down the steps towards the car, I can feel my palms start to sweat. She gets within eye contact range, I notice she’s even prettier in person than she was in her thumbnail of facebook profile picture. Dear Diary, Jackpot. Funny thing about the thumbnail facebook picture, it only showed her upper half, it was at this point I realized I had no fucking idea how tall she was. Turns out she was at least 5’11. Shit. The only thing that could have hindered this date, did. I approach her and give her a “hi hello nice to meet you hug”, of course I had to tippy toe, hoping she didn’t notice the obvious height differential.

Let me start off by saying I don’t have a height complex. Not at all. I’m 5’9 (well 5’8 and a half), and feel like that’s a pretty average height for a guy. In fact, I looked this up. The average height for a man is 5 feet 9.2 inches, and the average height for a woman is 5 feet 3.8 inches. FACT. I am average height for an adult male. FACT. She was 2 standard deviations taller than the normal distribution of women heights.

I’ve dated girls taller than me, not a big issue. It’s just, admittedly, a little intimidating.

*FACT: I drive an Infinity G35. For those of you that think I actually drive a white rape van as described in her blog, you’re idiots.

But I digress, she gets in the car, smells real pretty and we start our adventure. I start driving, on our way out to the freeway we pass her favorite club, she lets me know it’s basically TJ night every night. Sounds awesome. . . .

Our reservations are for 7:30 at Il Fornaio, a recommendation from a reader for Italian, looked good on the interweb.  Here’s the view from our table:

We’re seated, we order a bottle of wine, and conversation continues. I thought the conversation was going well? I’m not sure. She kept interrupting me to tell me about her past dates and how they used to fly her out on their jets, but also how she “wasn’t impressed with that”. I felt like telling her, “well I go on dates with chubby chicks, but I’m not impressed with that”, but somehow I don’t think that’s the same thing.
She also felt the need to keep mentioning how her more recent boyfriend was a TV star. Not only do I not have a jet,  I also don’t have my own TV show. Sorry.

I thought our conversation was going well? Apparently not, we both “checked” phones, and I saw a twitter update from her 2.3 seconds later…..

Awesome. I think it was at this point we both realized this date had gone south, but dinner hadn’t even arrived yet, so we had to stick it out.

Dinner couldn’t come quick enough, AND when dinner finally got there she stole my plate. I’m all about sharing, but she literally took my plate to her half of the table. This is an actual picture of her stealing my food.

She said “By the way, I’m going to steal your food”, so I guess that makes it okay!?

Dinner was delicious, the small amount I was allowed to steal away when she wasn’t looking. We finished dinner, finished the bottle of wine, and both “checked” our phones again. And again 2.3 seconds later I saw her twitter updated with…

I wanted to respond via twitter with “@sdlolo It’s spelled “whack” sasquatch”, but I didn’t. I refrained.Ftw! It’s time to pay the bill and leave. I’m sorry I don’t own a jet, but I’ll at least buy dinner.

We make our way back to her house, just as I’m dropping her off, by some divine chance, Mariah Carey’s “Why you so obsessed with me” comes on, I dedicate the song to her and wish her a good night. I got the old awkward side car hug, which is basically 3^rd base, so yeah, it was pretty good night.

Would I go on another date with said girl?
Yeah, I think we really have something special.

If you want to read her interpretation of the date go here:
Chapter 14. A Leprechaun and Sasquatch

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