Tag Archives: third date

Your Father Isn’t… Kevin

17 Nov

When Kevin and I finally make plans for our third date, I’m excited but wary since I can’t handle another crazed cycle of waiting, moving on, waiting, and moving on. I’m not good at either of those things at the best of times.  Even so, I can’t help getting all giggly.

We’ve made plans for dinner and a movie on Friday, but on Thursday disaster strikes. Its name is Comcast. The cable in my apartment decides it’s about sick of us and calls it quits, but of course Comcast has nothing open for three weeks… except one cancellation for Friday afternoon between 3pm and 8pm. Surprisingly, the operator doesn’t give a damn that I’ve waited three weeks for this date. Sophie’s choice: Kevin or cable. Whatever I choose, it’ll be three weeks until I see the other.

Anyone who knows me should know how I’d handle a situation like this. Whenever anyone tries to force me to do one thing, I’ll do the opposite. Try to force me to choose between two options, I’ll find a third. Just on principle.

I beat the devil at his game by inviting Kevin to watch a movie at my place (the DVD player still likes us) before going out to dinner once one of my roommates get home. Evil incarnate Comcast admits defeat and shows up promptly at five, but Kevin and I opt to stay in anyway. After four hours, two movies (one good, one not so much), one medium pizza and a bottle of wine, Kevin finally kisses me. I’m so over the moon about the entire evening that I muster the courage to tell him that three weeks between dates is way too long.

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I panic. That sounds so needy, so demanding! He’s a slow and steady kind of guy and there’s a very good chance I just blew it.

Kevin looks at me in the dark of my living room and says slowly, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Well that pretty much convinces me that everything is solved and we’re ready to move forward. We’re past the three dates and into the realm of dating.

Within a few weeks, we go on a handful more dates, including a baseball game with my friends. I even meet his mom, although informally as we stop by to pick up a few things from her house.

Even so, each date still feels like one of the first dates and Kevin’s schedule isn’t getting any easier. I find myself secretly hoping his lacrosse team will get knocked from the playoffs so he’ll actually have some free time. Then I feel incredibly guilty and unsupportive for thinking such awful thoughts. And I wonder why I’m single?

His team does lose in the second round of the playoffs, which doesn’t make me happy at all since I figure I’m karmically responsible. And even then, our schedules don’t quite match up.

After an early dinner and movie one Friday (7pm movie… 5pm dinner), Kevin drops me off at home. As I get in bed at 9pm on a Friday, too ashamed to call the friends I turned down because I had a “hot date,” I start to realize the perils of the all-American good guy with his life together: there isn’t much room for a girlfriend.

I text Kevin that night, indulging in a little melodrama, to ask if he thinks this is actually going anywhere. In true Kevin fashion, he doesn’t answer until around noon the next day, at which point I’ve already punched out my frustrations in boxing and eaten my feelings at brunch.

Kevin agrees that things aren’t really taking off, but that he does enjoy spending time together. It takes all my willpower to reply, “Since we’re on the same page, let’s just leave it at that.” I’m still proud of myself for that one.


Kids, perfect on paper is so rarely perfect. Exhibit A: Kevin is not your father (although I’d be open to revisiting the matter if it ever came up again).