Breaking All The Rules.

When Goldi and I skipped into world of the Online Dating, we set up a few rules for the 'First Date'.

1. No Smoking.
2. Two glasses of wine, maximum.
3. Maybe a kiss at the end, but nothing more and not before the date's end.

Where we differed was that I also was not comfortable talking about past relationships, asking about them, or really straying from the typical 'first date' conversation fare of funny stories from childhood. I most certainly wanted to put my best 'self' forward, and when I first started dating, I was under the impression that my 'best self' was a watered down version of me - you could actually call it the 'Hostess Version' of me. Minding my manners, staying away from topics like religion and politics. I know that these first date 'rules' may seem a bit antiquated, but for our first foray into adult dating, they seemed sound.
Cut to one year later. I'm still dating, with a handful of relationships in my belt, and a handful of 'suitors' still asking me out pretty regularly, but I am really lacking a meaningful connection. I haven't felt the true 'Spark' in a long long time. As much as we all love Apartment F, one of the biggest problems with us was that I never had that with him. The Dutchman, well, that Spark was palpable, but impossible to maintain overseas. And with all the mediocre dating I've been doing as of late, between the Carpenter & the Mormon, and leaning on Apartment F like an anchor but not a boyfriend, I've taken a relatively passive stance on dating in general. I have boys who text me, who I may or may not text back, asking me to meet them out for drinks, boys who've found me on facebook after an introduction on a lazy Sunday asking me to dinner, but between friends and my birthday, trying to find a job, and travelling back and forth between the desert and the beach, I haven't a ton of time to carve out anything worthwhile or even really that meaningful when it comes to any form of a relationship.

Needless to say, I haven't found the Spark in any of the aforementioned Dinner Companions.

But, as I have recently hopped back on the online dating bandwagon, I had a date on Easter Sunday.

'I'll meet you in the bar. You should be able to spot me - I'll be in the black ball gown holding a single long stemmed rose.'

'Hmm... I might need to change. I'll be wearing a tux, my jacket will be unbuttoned and my bow tie will be untied.' 

'Perfect. We'll blend right in.'

So, with all of the Rules in place, and an hour long phone conversation with him last week, I prepared for my date by texting photos of possible outfits to my Best Friend in San Francisco and listening to Gotye.
My date for the evening was someone that I had actually messaged first (a rarity & a relative 'Rule Break' initofitself), after searching on OkCupid for 'single men' withing '35 miles' who are '6'4'' & Over'. (I like 'em tall, Itellya. Reeeeal tall.)
In his profile, he spoke about singing in a rock band in Turkey, getting his PhD in Mathematics, being excited for the future and looking for someone to laugh at his 'stupid jokes'. Not only that, but he was 6'5'' & has piercing green eyes. I ended my initial message with,

'I like it, I like it all. 

But I may be reading into [your profile] too much simply based on the fact that you're 6'5''.' 

He had responded in kind with,

'I got home last night and read the best message I've ever received on this website... 

And then I read yours. :)

...I like your profile too, but I may be reading into it too much simply based on the fact that I like your pictures.'

My Best Friend and I had decided on black equestrian pants, a Moroccan-esque printed tank and a gray denim moto jacket in lieu of the black ball gown, and I was on my way, meeting him for drinks at 6 at a restaurant with a live band & a panoramic view of one of the many bay marinas in my tiny town.
Right before I left, however, there was a knock on the door; Apt F wanting to know if he can borrow my computer while I'm out for the night. I politely oblige while dry-shaving my legs over the sink and push him out the door. I am vague about where I am going, but, thankfully, 'dinner with my friends' is a sufficient enough answer.

I was there before my date, which I've made a point never to do in the past, wanting some sort of grande entrance for myself.
In the past, I've preferred to walk in and see the look on a date's face when they spot me - to gauge their excitement or lack thereof, to get a sense of how they take me in - like some sort of First Date Bride. But I knew that this date was a good 10 minutes behind schedule, as he was coming from Easter dinner with his folks that had run longer than he'd expected.
So I took a seat at the sunken-in bar & ordered a glass of wine.
Finally, in walked an extremely tall, thin man with a bit of scruff, red shoes and huge, sparkling green eyes. He spotted me at the bar, I stood up and we hugged. He was handsome - but handsome in a way that from every angle his face changed a bit, plain from one view and striking from another. 
Over the next hour, this animated, loud man and I talked, and talked over eachother, and laughed. It was one of those first hours where I most certainly liked him & found him so smart and nerdy and sexy that I was at a bit of a loss for wit or sound story telling skills. Usually, when I'm nervous, I become 100% funnier & wittier - the Hostess Me comes out in spades. But with him, trying to gauge if he liked me, and wondering if he would, I couldn't seem to lay on the Hostess, and what came out was a less witty, yet more Real me. We ordered another round of drinks, and the conversation went on and on and on. Finally, after my second drink was done, I excused myself to the restroom to let my Best Friend in San Francisco know that this date was going, well... My exact text was, 'Best!'. I came back to the bar, and he had ordered a third drink. I commented on it, reminding him that he did have to drive home, and ordered a third myself, sadly remarking that this would have to be my last. (Rule Break Numero Uno.) Then, I mentioned that he had written on his profile that he 'Smokes when he drinks' and ask him if he wants to step outside. He says yes. (Rule Break #2.) I am trying to extend this date as long as possible, as I don't want it to end. I am obviously more comfortable at this point, as we have started doing funny accents at eachother and speaking like old-timey Newsies. (We have officially entered 'Dork-Out Date' Territory.) Once we got outside, overlooking the bay, standing not even close to eye-to-eye (he is a full foot taller than I am, if not more, so even though I'm wearing my tallest heels, he's still got a whole six inches on me), we look at eachother and it just feels so, so natural to begin kissing. (Rule Break #3.)

We go back inside, and order calamari. (The same calamari that doomed one date; the date where I thought to myself, If I have to fucking sit here while this idiot eats calamari, I may kill myself. The one where I incited Code Blue and left before the appetizer had arrived.) At one point, he stops me mid-story, and states,

'You know, you sound like you have a fantastic life.'

Neither of us want this date to end, we confide.
We keep making excuses to stay - just one more cigarette, how 'bout an app?, lets split one more glass of wine.
Both of us knew going into the date that this one had Real potential.
I love the way he looks at me.
And  I - for once - went into it being Real Me, not Hostess Moi.
Silly and open, honest and excited.*

*I credit my ability to do this now to my relationship with F. 

To finally figure out that a real, healthy relationship needs to be based not on walls, but on windows. 

In my relationship with F, I was unabashedly Myself, and he still loved me. 

Whereas, with my dating the Aussie, or even with the Ex of 5 years, I held back for fear that if some aspects of me or my experiences came out, they would deem me unlovable.

We then go next door, to a Mexican chain for Margaritas, on me.
And we kiss.
And we talk; there, I ask something I have never asked on a first date, the old 'why are you online dating?' question and I learn of his last serious relationship of four years, a breakup followed by a period of 'sluttiness', and finally, his foray into online dating.
I learn that I am his sixth date of the website. 

And, he continues, most certainly The Best. 

I tell him the vague outline of my five year relationship, and the subsequent mini-relationships that have followed. (I do, however, leave out that my last relationship was with my neighbor.) 

Our conversation starts to veer into an implied, 'If we do start something...' territory. We both confess to needing 'Me Time', he lets me know that most of the time he gets off work late, and 'whomever' he's dating needs to be aware of that. 

These are topics I've never even began to touch on a first date.

We make plans for next Saturday. 

We leave the Mexican joint, walk out to our cars & realize that well, for one, we still don't want the night to end and two (something that we both feign surprise over, but had known, err... silently planned) that neither of us should drive. 

We were not far from my house, and we taxi there. (RULE BREAK: INFINITY!) 

He notes that he has to send an email from my house, and I explain that I have lent my computer to my neighbor for the night. Once we're home, we drink cheap wine and talk and talk and talk........ 

(Dot, dot, dot.)

He is the perfect combination of cerebral intelligence and charisma.

I explain this about him to my Best Friend the next morning, and she says, 'Like you.'

The Spark is there.

I want this to work. 

I want this to be something. 

I want this brilliant, sparkling man to fall for Me and I want to fall for him. 

This is exciting and terrifying. 

But, I'd be lying if I said that I'm not afraid of the fact that I broke all the Rules ruins the chance of that happening, or if this could be the Exception to That Rule.

In the morning, I wake up at 6:30am, with him next to me. 

I look up at the door, and I see Apartment F with my computer in hand (he has my spare key for cat-feeding when I'm out of town) looking down at us both, his eyes taking in the situation sadly. 

I groan. 

I realize that because I had left my car at the restaurant, he didn't think that I was home, let alone even fathom I would be with someone else.

He puts my computer down, drops the spare key in the mail stand by the door, and backs out silently, locking the door behind him.

My green-eyed, 6'5'' first date did not wake up.

I know F is devastated, but to be honest, I am somewhat relieved. 

Sidenotes: Not going to Colorado. The F has Blocked me on Facebook. Johnathan Adler has checked with all my references.