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thehefnerLet Johnny Go tell you ladies and gents a little somethin' about dames. Dames'll go out on a date with you, sure. They'll get all gussied up and pretty for you, they'll lead you on, they'll let you pay for a swanky dinner at Clyde's and for their expensive-ass movie ticket. They let you be the upstanding gent you are, suffering finances be damned. And they'll hang on your every word and laugh at all your jokes and look deep way in your eyes, as if they're half listening to you and half somewhere else, the very same place you are in the back of your head, admit it pally.
And they'll ever so slightly nibble their lips as they look at you, smiling that beautiful smile of theirs, and you think you are on, baby. And when the evening is over, all of a sudden, even before you ask 'em (gentleman that you are), you realize that the goodnight kiss ain't never gonna come. That even before she says no, you know you're gonna get a brief hug and suddenly it's all "just friends" vibes and "thanks for the nice evening, I'll call you sometime." And then what are you, when you're walking back to you car alone in the beautiful, cold streets of Georgetown? You're a sucker, pally. Rejected, 4-F, don't call us we'll call you.
On Tuesday I met a girl at the comic shop. A drop-dead gorgeous Brazilian named Gabi who bought a book of Battle Royale.. That's promising right there. We struck up a conversation about Beat Takeshi and similar things, we flirted, and long story short, we exchanged numbers. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Heffie was on and all was well with the world. We set a date for dinner and a movie for tonight.
Now, in the time before I learned that I could actually potentially be considered sexually appealing (we call this period "Pre-Misty" as any reputable textbook will say. Trust me, they will ten years from now), every single one of my dates were never actally dates. No matter how I tried, they all seemed to end up "hang-outs" between "friends" who loved being with me because they could tell me anything. So yeah, I was the gay friend. In fact, I was just talked to my friend Nicola, whom I still love, and was a little uncomfortable by her graphic descriptions of her sex life. "Uh, Nicola, you do know I have strong feelings for you, right?" "Of course, that's part of our relationship!" Guhhhh.
Any fears that Gabi was mistaking this date as a platonic hang-out between friends were dismissed when I saw her tonight, dressed very nicely (far nicer than a college student would normally wear), hair done up and her face all made up. No, this was a date, baby, and she knew it.
I treated her to Clyde's, a restaurant of some note as any Washingtonian will attest, and afterwards we went to see Good Night, And Good Luck, which I'll talk about in another post sometime maybe. Sure, she kept her body to herself, there were no friendly brushes or anything like that, but man, the way she hung on my every word and how she would ever so slightly nibble her lower lip as she looked at me, dude, I thought I was in. The evening went off without a hitch.
I walked her back to her dorm, utterly dumbfounded by the gorgeousness of the Georgetown University campus. When the time came to depart, I asked, in the polite and cool way that I do, if it would not be too forward for a kiss. I asked this with Kristen on our first date, to great success. I asked it again tonight for the same reasons: One is that I'm a polite guy. The second is because I want to avoid the utterly crushing humiliation of a girl wincing and turning away from my attempted kiss.
And thank god for that, so that instead I got "Uhhh... yeah it would be too forward. But I'll give you a hug!" which is plenty bad enough, believe you me. I imagine the students wandering the campus were probably wondering about the strange sweating man, hunched over and muttering a stream of self-loathing embarrassed obscenities on his way back to his Losermobile.
Now. Mommy Go has supposed that perhaps Gabi doesn't want to rush things. First date and all. If this is the case, hey, I'm all cool with taking my time with such matters, especially with such a lovely lady as Gabi. But on the other hand, I know the "just friends" signals too well by now. And besides, she's Brazilian, for God's sake! These people invent whole dance routines because sex just isn't good enough. You think if a date was flawless she's turn down a simple goodnight kiss??
So in the course of a week, I've lost a girlfriend, been basically given the old "I don't wanna lose our special friendship" by another girl, been stood up by my ex, and now this.
But I ain't gonna let it get to me, no sir. You know why? Cuz Johnny Go don't need no dames. They just muddle things up and drag the beat down. All Johnny Go needs is a Jack on the rocks and a mike in the hand. C'mon, Bub, tickle those ivories and let's blow this joint sky high. Can't stop the rhythm, pally. Let's swing.
And they'll ever so slightly nibble their lips as they look at you, smiling that beautiful smile of theirs, and you think you are on, baby. And when the evening is over, all of a sudden, even before you ask 'em (gentleman that you are), you realize that the goodnight kiss ain't never gonna come. That even before she says no, you know you're gonna get a brief hug and suddenly it's all "just friends" vibes and "thanks for the nice evening, I'll call you sometime." And then what are you, when you're walking back to you car alone in the beautiful, cold streets of Georgetown? You're a sucker, pally. Rejected, 4-F, don't call us we'll call you.
On Tuesday I met a girl at the comic shop. A drop-dead gorgeous Brazilian named Gabi who bought a book of Battle Royale.. That's promising right there. We struck up a conversation about Beat Takeshi and similar things, we flirted, and long story short, we exchanged numbers. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Heffie was on and all was well with the world. We set a date for dinner and a movie for tonight.
Now, in the time before I learned that I could actually potentially be considered sexually appealing (we call this period "Pre-Misty" as any reputable textbook will say. Trust me, they will ten years from now), every single one of my dates were never actally dates. No matter how I tried, they all seemed to end up "hang-outs" between "friends" who loved being with me because they could tell me anything. So yeah, I was the gay friend. In fact, I was just talked to my friend Nicola, whom I still love, and was a little uncomfortable by her graphic descriptions of her sex life. "Uh, Nicola, you do know I have strong feelings for you, right?" "Of course, that's part of our relationship!" Guhhhh.
Any fears that Gabi was mistaking this date as a platonic hang-out between friends were dismissed when I saw her tonight, dressed very nicely (far nicer than a college student would normally wear), hair done up and her face all made up. No, this was a date, baby, and she knew it.
I treated her to Clyde's, a restaurant of some note as any Washingtonian will attest, and afterwards we went to see Good Night, And Good Luck, which I'll talk about in another post sometime maybe. Sure, she kept her body to herself, there were no friendly brushes or anything like that, but man, the way she hung on my every word and how she would ever so slightly nibble her lower lip as she looked at me, dude, I thought I was in. The evening went off without a hitch.
I walked her back to her dorm, utterly dumbfounded by the gorgeousness of the Georgetown University campus. When the time came to depart, I asked, in the polite and cool way that I do, if it would not be too forward for a kiss. I asked this with Kristen on our first date, to great success. I asked it again tonight for the same reasons: One is that I'm a polite guy. The second is because I want to avoid the utterly crushing humiliation of a girl wincing and turning away from my attempted kiss.
And thank god for that, so that instead I got "Uhhh... yeah it would be too forward. But I'll give you a hug!" which is plenty bad enough, believe you me. I imagine the students wandering the campus were probably wondering about the strange sweating man, hunched over and muttering a stream of self-loathing embarrassed obscenities on his way back to his Losermobile.
Now. Mommy Go has supposed that perhaps Gabi doesn't want to rush things. First date and all. If this is the case, hey, I'm all cool with taking my time with such matters, especially with such a lovely lady as Gabi. But on the other hand, I know the "just friends" signals too well by now. And besides, she's Brazilian, for God's sake! These people invent whole dance routines because sex just isn't good enough. You think if a date was flawless she's turn down a simple goodnight kiss??
So in the course of a week, I've lost a girlfriend, been basically given the old "I don't wanna lose our special friendship" by another girl, been stood up by my ex, and now this.
But I ain't gonna let it get to me, no sir. You know why? Cuz Johnny Go don't need no dames. They just muddle things up and drag the beat down. All Johnny Go needs is a Jack on the rocks and a mike in the hand. C'mon, Bub, tickle those ivories and let's blow this joint sky high. Can't stop the rhythm, pally. Let's swing.
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Date: 2005-10-31 03:52 pm (UTC)so be a gentleman. in a few days (i think 3, maybe 4 is standard), call her. say you had a really nice time, have an andectdote (a short one) ready and be prepared for some small talk. at worst, you'll have a good reputation in a women's dormitory in georgetown. at best, she may ask to see you again. if you feel it's going well you can ask her out again. at least you'll have a yes or no that way.