Welcome to 29 Dates, where we explore the weird, wild and sometimes wonderful world of dating — one date at a time.
We met via Twitter.
He was good, though. He asked me to lunch and then in the middle of the meal, interrupted himself and said: "Can we hang out again? And can it be a date?" If I’d ever been asked out in person, I don’t recall. I was thoroughly charmed.
Before the date, my anxiety — which is quite high anyway (I chew three pieces of gum at once) — was above average.
I'd never had to get through a date sober with a guy I wanted to impress.
I didn’t need to worry, though. He made me feel comfortable right away. Not by being smooth or overly confident, which makes me uncomfortable because I can’t keep up, but just by being himself. It meant I didn’t need to act, either.
We got tacos and watched a movie in the park. He could tell I was bored of the movie, so he invited me back to his place. I assumed that meant sex, and I was scared. What if I farted? I’d never farted sober during sex with someone I'd just met. Because I’d never been sober.
Again, I didn’t need to worry.
He’s an artist, and let me play around with his supplies for a while. He asked if I wanted to make out. At that point, despite my sobriety, I felt good. I wasn’t an awkward weirdo. I mean, maybe I was, but I didn’t feel that way around him. I was also aroused. I don’t think I’d ever given myself the time or attention to see if I was actually turned on by someone before sleeping with them — usually I just agreed.
He didn’t want to go further than making out, though. At first I was thrown but then I relaxed. It was even less pressure.
We don’t live in the same place, so there was no break-up. We amicably continue to retweet each other from time to time.