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Hand Shake First
Date
You
left me getting my groove back. Thanks to Shop Girl's moving in
next door, her mandate of Saturday nights out (SNO) and the requisite
new
look to accompany said mandate, I'm grooving again. At least,
I think I am - or, if hand shakes are "in", I am. But
I'm getting ahead of myself.
It all started
two weeks ago on a SNO. A group of girls had gone out for dinner
at a swank new place, and having had our girl non-meals, we descended
(with plenty of fanfare) onto the even swankier bar. I'm lucky to
be associated with Shop Girl as her friends are very cool/hip/beautiful.
(Read: they'd never ask me to dinner on my own. I'm like a free
side of fries. No one passes up a free side of fries even if they
wouldn't have ordered it on their own.) Anyhoo, we were a table
full of lovelies - the young(ish) and the chic.
I was very confident as I hadn't gotten a 'V' in over a week. (Shop
Girl has relegated to giving me a 'V' when my outfit/comment/thought
process makes me a fashion/lifestyle "Victim" rather than
an icon. Palm facing in, she forms a 'V' with her pointer and middle
finger and puts the tips on her forehead effectively sending me
back to the boudoir. She's like the Donald Trump of the small town
fashion world.) V-free, I felt quite liberated from my usual does-my-hair-look-flat/has-my-blush-faded/does-my-butt-look-big
neuroses. Like I said, I was grooving again.
So, at the bar,
I see a guy I knew from my immediately-post-college party days.
We chat about this that and the other. We joke, we laugh and we
flirt moderately. (The new me doesn't flirt excessively like the
old me. New me with SNO mandate has much more subtle fashion
and flirt tactics. Overt flirting, like logo-mania, is so-last-season.)
I try to remember why I didn't crush on him in my former life. Can't
recall. The night ends.
Two days later,
he calls and asks me to dinner. This may seem normal for you but
this is tres bizarre for moi. I usually daydream about the dinner
date or about what my name would be if we got married - but they
never really call. So, suffice it to say, I was ecstatic. And after
much outfit anxiety and wardrobe counseling, I'm ready to go. Heels,
handbag,
fresh mani and glossy
lips.
Date rundown:
Dinner = good. Conversation = good. Laughter quotient = high. Flirting
= slightly less subtle, but mutually so. Drive home = casual, not
awkward like every other first date of entire life. Walk to the
door = sweet. Farewell parting = hand shake. RECORD SCREECHING ON
OTHERWISE PERFECT MOMENT. Who hand shakes at the end of a date?
A judge? And worse, I instigated it. He sort of smiled and said
he had fun and before you could say 'dork alert', I thrust my hand
out for a firm farewell. Don't spend too much time with me. You
may never kiss again.
That said, he
has since called twice and I think I'll see him at a party this
weekend. So, it seems my hand shake didn't wreak too much havoc.
It makes no sense to me. I thought everyone kissed on the first
date - even if just cheek-to-cheek. Who knew? Have I entered a new
era? Another chapter? Or have the rules changed? We are at war.
Maybe dating is adapting to our political environment. Or maybe,
just maybe, I'm ahead of my time. And the hand shake is the next
in cool. Perhaps, but when I asked Shop Girl, she just rolled her
eyes and gave me a V.
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