I-Rob: An Adventure In Dating

So where was I?

Oh yeah, we'd met for coffee. I'm not the kind of guy to kiss and tell so I'm gonna stop here. Of course if I stop, that means I'm not telling, which means I'm telling. Hmmm….

Life is a maze of choices. It's interesting how some choices close doors and open others. We base what we do on what we see in search of what we don't see. In the end it's all about trying not to get hurt.

Me, I'm divorced. The fact that I'm meeting another woman in the flesh (that's cliché flesh, not literal flesh. If I'm not telling you about kiss, I'm certainly not telling you about that!) is big. Not many kids who give their right arm to play with a lawn mower will go back with what's left.

"Now clap…"

So, without kissing and telling, I will admit to holding hands. It didn't happen at coffee. Hand holding happened later, but that later is out of context. I'll get there, I mean I did get there but I'll get there, here. First I need to cover Rob's 3 dating tests. A woman I date needs to pass these tests, just as you need to read about them.

That's right. Some princesses ask you to slay dragons, pea in their bed, or pop into a toad. Me, I'm easy, but this princess still has standards. I won't give the royal treatment to just any tart in tights. You need to pass 3 criteria by Rob-midnight before I disappear.

Don't look at me that way. You do it too. We all do it. We all have checklists that decide if one date proceeds to two, or two proceeds to something closer to coupledom. I have mine, and I wave it like a standard. Believe it or not, my flag only has three items.

Why? Because I'm too picky. Usually if things pass "Go" to the Reading Railroad of dating, I've already rounded the board twice, and examined all the properties thoroughly; I'm looking for the best fit to my plans. Park Place without Boardwalk, is somebody else's property, and I'm not interested.

When we get to a date, we're inviting Kevin Sorbo, because we're on an epic quest--What? Sorbo was Hercules, remember? I'm inviting him because of his heroic adventures. Not because--Where is your mind?

ANYWAY...These quests are only three, but must be passed to proceed.

Usually these tests require more than 1 date to complete, but sometimes I'm efficient and compile them all into 1 sitting. MyEx took months. My weekend splasher, she pulled it off over night (so to speak).

I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I will test and tell, so here goes:

Quest 1: Can she Survive a Rob adventure? This is important. My life is full of adventures. I'm a special guy, and special things happen to me. I mean they happen to all of us, but usually not on first dates or things like that. That's always when they hit me.

Timing is everything, and well yeah, so is Rob.

After we spent our morning together, sipping coffee, and touring downtown, I went to work. She came over and killed time by working on my iTunes file. I'd had a hard drive crash months ago; some of my files were duplicates, while others only existed as titles without tracks to play. She cleaned a lot of that out while I worked. I kept telling her she didn't have to--Ok I told her once, but I was emphatic. She shrugged me off, and told me to get back to work so she could have more time later. Cool, I know, and that wasn't even one of the tests.

When I reached a break point, we went to dinner. There's a nice Mexican restaurant and she said she wanted good Mexican food. Perfect! We drove across town so she could experience a SoCal freeway. They're great tourist attractions. Whenever you come here, you have to see them. Everybody does, and usually at the same time.

At the restaurant, we sat across from each other. I know, some people love to sit next to each other so they can eat and touch. Me, I love to watch a woman eat and talk. I absorb her mannerisms, nuances, and conversation.

Tonight my date ordered a combo plate with enchiladas tacos and tamales. The waitress asked her about red and green sauce. Unfortunately, my date hadn't read too many of my blogged conversations she stared at the waitress, and then at me and then back at the waitress, as if the motion would give her recognition.

It didn't. The waitress might as well have spoken Spanish. She didn't. She was a little blond girl dressed as an angel for Halloween. Angels don't speak Spanish. That's all right, I don't either. And I didn't take my date's question personally. I don't pay too much attention to my blogged conversations with other people either. I explained red and green she opted red, the evening was a go.

After dinner, we walked out to the car, and I attempted to start things. I failed. My battery died. Wait, what were you thinking? Oh, no. I don't neck in the car and tell either. Instead I called my warranty people and they promised a truck to give me a jump, it would only be an hour. That hour turned into two.

See? These are the things that happen. My date took it in stride. I'd hoped to spend more time admiring her that evening, but it was dark. Even worse, when I got back home I was going to need to work, especially if I was going to spend any time with her on Saturday.

So we stood in the parking lot and got acquainted. We talked about Iphones, families and such. It was good. It also allowed me to find out about item number 2: Does she like Donnie Iris?

It may sound stupid, but it's not. It's critical. I've found in life there are two types of people. People who like Donnie Iris, and people who don't. I'm a liker. I don't even know if I could kiss an anti-Donnie-ite.

We were comparing playlists, and she started hers. "Ah Leah!" played loud and clear. She'd survived two tests.

That's all I can tell you about our Friday.

I made it home late and worked late. Then I got up late Saturday. We agreed to meet as soon as I could get the car there to see her. First I needed to get it to the dealership.

That took a few hours, but when it was resolved, I returned to her hotel. Through this whole thing she was really understanding. Considering she'd flown out, and spent money on a hotel room to see me, and so far had only fixed my iTunes and eaten dinner, she had reason to be a little less than cheery.

When I got to the hotel I texted her.

Rob: Where ya at?

Smiley: Lobby

Rob: Realy? Me too!

Smiley: U?

"Hi!"

"Hi"

I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I will tell you I got a really nice hug. I'd forgotten what it was like to be hugged by somebody who was glad to see me. She'd seen Rob's planning in action, so she planned a dinner in the hotel. I guess she didn't trust my car anymore.

This lead us to the third quest: Can she take a Rob Compliment? See here's the thing. I may be able to write well, but when it comes to talking, words fly out of my mouth at incredible speeds. Sometimes, my mind doesn't have time to quality check them before releasing them into the air, especially if my thoughts are otherwise captivated.

I have a reputation fro saying the wrong things, and usually, it's meant as a compliment. My insults are dead on, but my compliments leave people feeling a little uneasy, and sometimes just a little dirty.

Because I don't kiss and tell I can't give you the context, but I can tell you that I told her, "You're nothing special." and it was a compliment. When she was done laughing, I think she took it as such too. I'd splashed her back.

After dinner and margaritas we went for a walk. The night was cool, and the street was lit. The hotel had begun it's process for lighting the way for Christmas. We stood out front in the courtyard talking about little stuff: The art studio across the street, her eyes, The tree strung in Christmas lights, her smile…I took her hands in mine and I kissed her lips. My hands left hers, and drew her body to mine...Lost in a moment that lost track of all time. I'd tell you more about it, but for a guy who doesn't kiss and tell, I've said too much already.

The next morning she flew back home. I think it was a good weekend, but it's hard to say. We haven't really talked since she left. We all make choices; she chooses not to kiss and tell.