Tuesday, July 6, 2010

He's cute

I have very strong opinions on dating and sex. Dating I'll discuss now, sex we'll save for later. Now, I'm as much a feminist as the next gal, I've had a job since I was 13, I've lived on my own and I've lived with roommates, I can figure out my own taxes, I can pay my own bills, I can change my oil and I can change my tire, I can drive a stick shift and I can argue with the best of them, I believe in a woman's right to choose and I rock the vote....but I believe a man should pay for dinner. I may be a feminist but that doesn’t mean I'm not a lady. I can be a feminist who celebrates her ladylike side. Also, I think coffee is a cop out and happy hour is an excuse to try and get in my pants. If you’re a man and a gentleman at that, commit to a dinner. Don't try and tell me that you’re broke and can't afford it. If we going to do a price comparison I can easily whip out some receipts that will tell you exactly how much I spent to get ready for our date and I'm willing to bet apples to oranges we're close to even. It takes a lot of work to look pretty for you; I just don't emerge from the water a'la Venus style. I spend at least an hour and a half. And it's not just skin deep...rest assured that I'm going to be turning on all your senses, sight, scent, touch ... all of them. It really upsets me when I go to all this work and he puts little to no effort into it.

I had googled the little Italian place that he had asked me to dinner at and I had realized that 1)It was romantic in an innocent sweet first date high school way and
2) It was semi pricey thus I needed a dress, a new dress.

Now, I don't wear dresses on dates. I can literally count on one hand the number of times I've worn a dress on a date. Once to a Broadway play and once because I had worn one to work and met him right after. But this handsome caramel voiced man who had immediately jumped to asking me to dinner, I felt, deserved a dress. A flirty fun dress that showed off my gams and made him want to run a hand along my calf. So, after my mani/pedi (and feeling deliciously relaxed after an hour in those chairs) I ran to a store and somehow found the perfect dress within 10 minutes of walking in. I think that someone wanted to bless me that day. It was the perfect shade of purple and hit my leg in just the right spot, making my on any other day semi normal...ok short... legs look beautiful. I showed off my ample bosom in a tasteful not whorish way. I was ready to rock it! I didn't look just pretty; I was the version of myself that I always wished for when I started getting ready. I knew I was running a few minutes late so I threw my pretty legs into gear and ran out the door.

Let me explain a few of my rules while I am on a date. I do believe a man should pay but that doesn’t mean I expect, so I always carry cash. I carry $20 in the form of a ten, a five and five ones. I can offer to pay for dinner, when refused (as I should be) I can then offer to pay the tip. Which should also be rebuked. He should pay for din din. I know it’s not the 50's but it’s a lovely gesture on his part. I believe he should open my car door, the restaurant door and touch the back of my chair as I sit down. I in turn think it’s nice to lean over to unlock his car door. It shows the same concern that he is showing me. Don't go getting all huffy over all this if you think that I'm trying to put women back several years in women's lib. What I'm referring to with all this is simply the enjoyment of a female being a lady and all that implies and a man being a gentleman and all that implies. I celebrate that. And anyone of you who disagrees, who has been in love, I want you to think back to that if it’s past or think of him (or her...I'm pro-gay marriage. Remember what it was like on a Sunday morning relaxing in bed together? Not having to go anywhere or do anything except lay next to each other feeling the stillness of the moment, the calmness in your soul, the way that life just felt right. Did you feel anything other than just 'you'? Just the person who you are without any agenda? That’s what I mean; there is something so beautifully simplistic in relishing my inner femininity. I choose to carry that through to how a man should treat me. Now, this doesn’t mean I've always been that way. I have my bruises. It took some time to realize that I deserved to be treated wonderfully.

So, I'm running three minutes late (which I hate!) I send him a quick text
(at a stop light, that’s for you Uncle Police Officer)
screech around the corner and catch a quick glimpse, hope that this doesn’t turn out like the last 5 dates I've had from online, jump out of my car and pretty much sprint around the building to where he is standing and I can see him for the first time.
And ...boy...he is really good looking... and tall....
and the heat that fills me isn’t just from the Arizona summer....
I promptly forgot all the good dating habits I had simply by looking into his adorable hazel eyes.

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