First Impressions and Second Chances

I have nothing to wear.

Mind you, this is totally different from saying “I am wearing nothing”. The former signals desperation, while the latter suggests that I didn’t do laundry (or I’m trying to seduce you).

Back to my initial statement: I’m meeting Rick tomorrow and I have nothing to wear. Do I go with jeans and a blouse (apparently I’m an 80 year old woman), or go the casual route with yoga pants and some sort of athletic shirt? It’s still cold out, so maybe a sweater-dress with boots? The possibilities are limited only by my imagination and the size of my ass.

I wonder why men never fret this much about first impressions. Wait- that’s not fair…maybe they DO and I just don’t know about it. THAT GUY made an effort. I met other fellas during the times he and I were supposedly “on a break” (read: I was mad at him or we unrealistically decided to “just be friends”), and they seemed to have made an effort. One of them actually called me while he was shopping, lol.

So I retract my earlier statement: SOME men do care about first impressions.

But not as much as women do.

Or perhaps not as much as I do.

The first time I met THAT GUY, I stopped at a gas station along the way to brush my teeth and change my outfit.

Twice.

Then again, I was nervous. Since that time I’ve become progressively LESS nervous when meeting potential mates. Perhaps this is because most of them end up in the “sorry, not sorry” pile. I’ve gotten used to being disappointed, so I barely bother anymore.

And I’m sure it shows.

So I’ve decided to turn that attitude around and really make an effort. After all, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who was disappointed. I’d venture to say that more than a few of those dudes were wondering why I was wearing mom jeans and a t-shirt that said “My Other Shirt is a Straightjacket”.

So far I’ve touched up my hair color (streaks of Ronald McDonald red, but I think it works). My manicure is spot-on. I had a facial last week (no, not that kind), and I plucked Cagney and Lacey (my chin hairs).  I won’t bother with (ahem) ‘personal grooming’ beyond brushing my teeth and wearing deodorant- we ain’t getting freaky so there’s no point. Besides, I only wax my chooch when I can no longer use a sharpie to color my gray hairs.

[Slight segue to follow]

Sigh. Why is Rick starting to annoy me? He’s a nice enough guy, but lately his sense of humor has become rather cheesy and stale. Plus he seems to have dropped all pretense of proper grammar and spelling. This might be because I caught him at a bad time (which has happened), or it could be that he’s already become complacent in the knowledge that he “won”. Either way, I find it irritating.

And yes, I’m aware that nuance is often lost when you aren’t able to hear the tenor of someone’s words. Sarcasm is mistaken for being a douchebag, and certain phrases lose meaning altogether. Eliminate punctuation, as many people do when texting, and you may as well be speaking Sanskrit.

For instance: “I enjoy cooking my family and my dog” is TOTALLY FUCKING DIFFERENT than  “I enjoy cooking, my family, and my dog”. Or “I’m sorry I love you”, versus “I’m sorry. I love you”. See what I mean?

Of course you do.

But there’s something else about Rick that isn’t sitting right and I don’t know what it is. My gut isn’t telling me to pack heat and be ready to run for it, so that’s a good sign. I’m not worried that he’ll stand me up (though we knows my instinct in that particular arena is clearly on the fritz).

Maybe I’m worried that he won’t like me?

Nah. That’s preposterous! What’s not to like? I’M A GOTDAMN DELIGHT!

Seriously though- I’m not worried that he won’t like me. He senses a potential sexual encounter when I’m in town next week, so unless I tell him that my herpes is acting up and ask him if he has any valtrex, I’m pretty sure he’s good to go. He claims that he needs an intellectual connection to have sex with someone, but let’s face it: that’s a load of horseshit.

But not when I’M the one saying it.

I need a smart guy because I use a lot of big words, like “extrapolate”,  “ostensibly” and “narcissistic sociopath with bipolar tendencies and a persecution complex”.

Wait- I think I know what the problem is. Rick has been trying TOO hard.

Over the last few conversations we’ve had, he’s mentioned his collection of cars and houses, his sexual prowess, and the size of his penis.

I thought he was joking until he sent me a screenshot of a text conversation he had with the last chick he fucked 😂. Seriously- who keeps that stuff? (Actually, I do. I kept emails shared between me and THAT GUY for years. I still have some of them, now that I think about it).

But I certainly wouldn’t show them to someone else, lol.

I think Rick is insecure. That’s the problem. And I don’t like insecure men. There’s only room for ONE neurotic self-saboteur in this relationship and I already called dibs.

Crap.

Well, I’m still going to meet him. I do believe that he’s worth it and I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he’s not as insecure as I think. Maybe he was just being funny.

Besides, the gray hairs in my chooch are starting to look like cobwebs and you know the old saying, ‘A woman without her man is nothing’.

Or is it ‘A woman- without her, man is nothing’.

Who knows. Either way, I need to get laid.