Monday, January 12, 2009

Another date recap - because now I can't influence what she's already said

When I suggested to Reneé de la Curée that we get together, my intentions were two-fold.

I wanted to manufacture something to write about, but selfishly I wanted to read a straightforward assessment of my first impression.

She said that she was expecting me to be geeky, but later wrote I was a “cute young professional who was confident, polished, and completely unfazed.”

My expectations for her weren’t any better. I was expecting a self conscious overly eager slut, but she ended up being the innocent and sweet type, the kind of girl that takes the time to remember your family members' birthdays. The girl I would normally assume is more interested in holding hands than performing some type of sexual maneuver she only describe in her blog only as “the piledriver.”

It really made me wonder about how well I really know some of the girls I’ve met over the years. Is it really this easy to put on an act? Or is my distinction between sexual promiscuity and outward appearance seriously flawed?

I guess I'll never know.

With first impressions over and written in our respective blogs, the most interesting development is the difference between our perceptions of what happened that night.

I remember smiling on my way to dinner as I considered sneaking in my recorder. I really wish I would have now, but there were a couple moments that still stood out.

As noted in her blog, the first thing she said was, “what’s your out?”

To me, this was completely impractical. It’s clear that you’ve put in the time to think of what you’re going to say if things are going bad. For her it had something to do with an opportunity to use a special telescope, but bringing it up just means you won’t be able to use it as intended. It means you are trying to manufacture conversation, and it struck me as a comment that someone a little unsure of herself would make. Not a person who confidently talks about her mastery of the opposite sex.

My guess is she was attempting to catch me off guard, and although it did, I don’t think it could have had the desired effect.

We talked a lot about past relationships. I never mentioned sex, but she felt compelled to reassure me that her sexual promiscuity was limited to a small and exclusive group.

She wrote that I came off as arrogant, which I think I’m rarely regarded, while my impression of my comments were more self deprecating.

For example, when we were waiting at the valet, she said, “Now I get to judge you by the car that you drive.”

“Judge away,” I responded. “It’s only the hottest brown Pontiac Grand Prix you’ve ever seen.”

And oh yeah, after my friend read her entry yesterday, he asked, “so you split the bill?”

“No,” I answered. “It was actually 60/40.”

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