This will come as a shock to those who have been following my string of one-hit disasters on this blog. But I just had a GOOD date.
Gasp! Shock! Awe! Disbelief!
I know. You all thought that I was a cynical, demanding harpy who enjoys putting man-products through my buzz-saw of criticism — just to get my giggles.
Well, maybe I am. But not today.
Mr. Almost There was almost everything that I could ask for in a pleasant date buddy. He provided witty and engaging conversation, he was passionate about his cool job and his hobbies, and he showed that he was a fun-loving guy who could also appreciate cultural activities and serious discussions. He was also the consummate gentleman.
And he was cute as buttons. He truly was.
There was only one problem:
Compared to him, I was kind of enormous.
I know that I have blogged before about the diminutive size of my date by making wisecracks about munchkins (see Ms. Drunk Date), but it matters more now that I actually like this guy. In principle, I have nothing against smaller guys; I am not demanding in the sense that I need some Nordic giant on my arm.
But it’s just a little demoralizing when a lady of 1.6 m / 5’3″ dwarfs her male companion. It’s just that I like to snuggle up to a substantial piece of man. And “substantial” — in relative terms — is not that difficult to find for someone my size.
It’s not just a matter of height. I hate to bring up a cliché, but size DOES matter.
My shoulders are broader than his.
My arms are about the width of his legs.
So I’ll bottom-line it for you all. If he asks me out for a second date, I’d be more than willing to give it a shot. And no, it won’t ONLY be due to the fact that it’s my goal for March (see Ms. Anniversary) to get a second date.
If he wows me a second time, I’m sure that I can get over my superficial concerns. I’m a modern woman, after all, right? Right?? (Am I saying this to convince myself? Perhaps…)
Mr. Almost There really was ALMOST THERE. He was almost attractive. Almost.
I am such a superficial hussy.