Tag Archives: good guy

Your Father Might Be…Kevin

6 Oct

For the first time in a while, I’m actually excited about the prospects for this date. I’m meeting Kevin at a sushi restaurant near my apartment that I’ve been meaning to try but never have.

I walk into the restaurant right on time, by which I mean five minutes late, knowing he’s waiting for me at the bar. I’m awkwardly fishing for my phone and reassuring the hostess that yes, my date IS here when Kevin stands up.

Now, I realize that this is just coincidence but the brilliant rays of the setting sun blaze around Kevin’s silhouette, leaving me momentarily blinded with my heart racing.

I’m frozen elbow deep in my purse while the hostess, who still hasn’t decided to let me loose in her restaurant, asks Kevin if he’d like a table now. He’s still glowing.

I order a glass of wine and we settle in to those broad, sweeping questions you hope will steer you towards common ground. I learn that Kevin grew up in the area, has a close group of friends who are starting to settle down, is close to his parents, works for the government, is getting his masters in engineering part time at my alma mater, and coaches a high school lacrosse team. This guy has really his life together.

After sitting together for a while, I realize his looks may not have opened the heavens, but he has that athletic teddy bear build that only Americans can pull off. In fact, that’s exactly what I like about him: he’s all-American. The much-discussed but seldom seen, mythical all-American good guy. Who’s single. And on a date. With me. I feel like Steve Irwin discovering a species previously thought extinct.

Our date extends well into the night as we talk, even mocking the nearby couple feeding each other with chopsticks. When the hostess comes to tell us the restaurant will be closing soon, Kevin glances at his watch and asks, “What time do you close?”

“Ten minutes,” she replies, stepping back expecting us to stand up. Kevin turns back to me and says, “We’ll be out in eight. Finish your story.”

I melt.

Over the next two weeks, as I wait to hear from Kevin, I move from that annoying floaty, glowy stage that makes your friends hate you, to doubt, annoyance and finally mourning of the relationship that could have been. After all that, I must have imagined the sparks I felt that night, or at least that Kevin reciprocated.

I begin to analyze every aspect of my being for what went wrong. I’m in the middle of vowing to never eat sushi on a date again [Author’s note: sushi is not sexy food. Ever], when my phone buzzes.

It’s Kevin. Two weeks after our first date, he’s ready for a second one. He has no idea that in my mind I’ve worked my way through our entire relationship, ending in a crash back to reality in the form of his rejection by omission. Kevin is entirely unaware that for the four days since I had given up on hearing from him, I had fully planned on starting an all-raw-vegetable diet and getting into marathon shape… tomorrow. But of course, if I liked him enough to suffer so much in the aftermath, even if it was entirely self-inflicted, I liked him enough for a second date, right?

~~~~

Kids, Kevin isn’t out of the running but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The More I Love My Dog….

27 Aug

A series of natural disasters has prevented me from doing the writing necessary to regale you with my tales of dating terror this week, so I’m going to completely cop out and share this gem of a song that tells my same story. I hope you enjoy it! Have a great weekend and check back soon to hear about the unpatriotic chipmunk, the mythical “good guy,” and the yes man.