I had a horrible night last night with the Brit. A disaster of a date. Ug.
It started out well enough. We meet up, head down to chinatown. He'd never been down there. We walk around, get some dumplings and tea, look at everything. Get offered fake bags like 200 times. We're having fun, we're walking through Little Italy, then head up to the village. Stop at McSorleys for a beer. He's impressed by my knowledge of pubby NYC bars. He makes some joke about going home with him--well, kinda. I get uncomfortable, blush, turn pink, but am not knocking the idea. We both agree we need to drink more.
We walk some more and end up in this German restaurant on 3rd Avenue. We're having more drinks, sitting at the bar, laughing. Having a great time. Teasing more. He mentions something about when were dating before, like in September--we have a disagreement about the timing. I tell him I keep a journal, I'll check the timing. He says "You don't have a journal. You have a blog." Haha, I laugh. "Sure I do," I say, referring to the "public" blog I keep that everyone knows about. "No," he says. "You have a dating blog."
At this point I think I begin to hyperventilate. The bartender seems to notice that I don't look happy. I down my glass of wine, and order another. The Brit handles this very well, though, tells me he's never read it, that one of his friends had found it, back in September, when we were dating before. Tells me what his nickname is, which confirms that it's the right blog. He assures me that he won't read it. Tells me that everything will be fine. It takes him about an hour to calm me down. When he takes a bathroom break, the bartender asks if I'm in trouble--and I tell him the situation. "Uh oh," he says.
Of course, my solution to everything is to drink more. (Regular readers will remember that this solution almost always ends in disaster for me. You'd think I'd learn.) Exclusivity is discussed, and agreed to. ("Yippee!" I think. "I have a BF!!") But then all the extra alcohol kicks in. Basically we both get too drunk, and I tell him all my deep dark secrets. Nothing too horrible, but it was waaaaaaaay too early to share that kinda stuff with him. And then, of course, I can't stop referring to the bartender as "the cute bartender" and of course, that annoys the Brit. We end up having a mini argument, but he clears things up. "This is our first argument," he jokes. But yet, we can't seem to recover from everything I said.
We left things very up in the air.
Still nothing physical between us.
I'm not sure he ever wants to see me again--and of course, he's probably reading this now.
Larissa's posttoday is all about the good and bad of keeping a blog. For me the bad has been far outweighing the good. I've met some fabulous new people because of it, including Larissa herself, and it's been great to have an outlet for my thoughts and feelings. But the anonymity thing isn't working. This will be the 3rd guy that I've dated that's found the damn thing--and no one I'm dating needs to know every thought in my head--I sure wouldn't want to know theirs! Perhaps it's time for me to retire?
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