I hate shopping for jeans. You walk into a clothing store and there are dozens. They come in different washes, different fits. Women are all different; it’s going to take forever to find the perfect pair.
Some you glance at longingly, but know they’re not for you. Some you try on just for fun, even if you know the fit isn’t right. Some look great on the hangar, but holy crap! – that does NOT look good on me.
It’s a rare moment when you slide a pair of jeans over your hips in the dressing room and say, “Hey, my ass looks great in these!”
Are you bored with this analogy yet? Yes, dating is like trying on clothes.
I tried on another pair of jeans Friday.
I had my first date with Ryan from speed dating. He and I have been communicating via e-mail, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I wasn’t even sure I remembered which guy he was.
He is fairly new to Raleigh, so I suggested The Pit, a place I’ve been before and love. (Get the pulled pork.)
Ryan did many things right: made reservations, agreed to meet me at the restaurant, pulled out my chair for me, suggested appetizers. He conversed well and easily on a range of topics that kept the conversation flowing naturally.
When the check came, he picked it up without question. At the end of the night, he gave me a hug.
But … something. Something just didn’t feel right, just didn’t add up.
Does that even make any sense? I think it does. To me, there could be 100 men in a room and you don’t want any of them.
Sure, I could go out with this guy again, learn more about him. But there were many tiny things about him I didn’t like. If it’s the right guy, those things wouldn’t matter.
I told someone about this and she suggested a second date. Maybe I just need to learn more about him. Maybe I’m just being ridiculous and picky. As someone commented on this blog, what do you really glean in a five-minute speed date or an hour-long date?
Perhaps that is true wisdom. But my friends who are happily married or happily in a relationship with the person they know is The One were intrigued by those people on the first date. Of course you don’t know he’s The One on date number one, but you’re at least interested in seeing him again.
And frankly, I’m not. For whatever reason. The jeans just don’t fit.