Dateline: "He has yet to sink a ball… we are both terrible at pool."
We're collecting stories about your most entertaining dates. Send your time-stamped dating stories to email@example.com; don't forget to include gender and age for you and your date.
6:51 p.m. – He texts to tell me that he just got out of work and will be ten minutes late.
7:00 – I decide to listen to music in my car and tell him to let me know when he gets there. I’m wearing a pretty maxi dress with a sheer cardigan and my hair is in a low bun. My roommate assured me I looked good before I left.
7:25 – He finally shows up. He’s taller than I remember. And cuter. We exchange the most awkward hug of my life.
7:26 – I pay for the first round of drinks because the bar won’t accept his card. I don’t care, but he looks embarrassed.
7:27 – We sit at a table outside and cover the formalities. I amuse myself by playing with the "No Smoking" sign.
7:32 – He has really pretty blue eyes.
7:38 – So far, I know that he drinks a lot, smokes, has lost his license and has a tattoo on his chest. I also know that he dropped out of uni, likes road trips, and has been to Thailand.
7:45 – I really want to see his tattoo, but figure asking about it would be rude.
7:46 – I let my hair out of the bun.
8:00 – All he knows about me is that I study law. Not 100% sure if he even knows my name. He definitely doesn’t know how old I am.
8:30 – We head to another bar to play pool. He tries to buy another drink; his card fails again. He calls his bank.
8:45 – He is still on the phone with his bank. I go and talk to the bartender for a while because I went to school with her.
8:50 – He re-emerges and pays for his drink. I tell him I am horrible at pool.
9:00 – He has yet to sink a ball. Maybe he is even worse than I am.
9:20 – We are both terrible at pool.
9:30 – I accidentally sink the eight ball. I congratulate him on winning.
9:32 – It appears that I have broken my two hour first date time limit. I silently resolve not to go home until he at least kisses me. I am an idiot.
9:40 – I ask if I can see the tattoo on his chest. It’s pretty sexy.
9:51 – I notice (not for the first time) that he's wearing red Vans with red jeans. The clashiness of this ensemble amuses me a little.
10:00 – We move and sit outside. He tells me he surfs. I picture him topless on a surfboard. It’s pretty.
10:25 – Half the shit he's told me about himself seems to conflict. I wonder if he has a lying problem. But he does really good.
10:30 – I wonder if the nervous chatter and obnoxious drunk stories are a cover for being shy. Most guys would at least have their arm around me by now.
10:40 – I take off my cardigan to show my bare back and arms. Nothing. He could at least hold my goddamn hand — this whole thing was his idea in the first place!
10:48 – I give up and put it back on. I twirl my long hair around my finger. Again, nothing. This is bugging me. I didn’t waste an hour of my life getting ready for him not to notice.
10:55 – I give up, and tell him I have to go. He insists on walking me to my car.
10:59 – We hug. I pull away and raise my eyebrows. He leans back in and kisses me. Thank God, I think. Too bad it's a shitty kiss. On both sides.
11:00 – He pulls away and says good night. I’m slightly irritated at this point — if someone was going to pull away first, it should have been me. I tell him to have a fun night, then jump in my car and cringe before driving away as fast as possible.
11:05 – I touch my lips and realize I kind of hope he organizes a second date.