Meet the Meat

I have a date tonight.

This is a date date. Hanging out with male friends, my brother or male colleagues does not qualify as a date. I am meeting a new person, who is not part of my social circle and worse, have not met previously. So this is in essence, some weird version of a blind date.

Date in question shall henceforth be referred to as Spooner. Before you get any weird ideas, Spooner is a nickname he had been previously bestowed with by his soccer buddies for the ability to 'spoon' the ball over the crossbar instead of into the goal. Doesn't speak much of his goal-scoring abilities but well, that's not really of much concern to me. But since he plays footie regularly, I am going to check his ass out. (I have a this theory that all soccer players have nice butts. So far,I have to yet to be proven wrong.)

Apart from my intention to do some top perving, I am horribly nervous. Yes, I know you're raising your eyebrows going, "Whaaaat? You? Nervous? Pffft." Truth is, I am. Despite having skin like buffalo hide, I am capable of suffering from the odd bout of nerves. Weirdly enough, the logical part of my brain tells me that I should have no reason to be jittery because I am quite capable of holding my own in most situations. Okay, so I don't look like the female version of Frankenstein's monster. Good. And I can make conversation with a bunch of cacti if I had to. Bonus! And Spooner has not met me in person before so technically there should not be any prior expectations that I need to surpass. Therefore, I should go there with an open mind, minimal expectations (whoever says there are no expectations is a fucktard), and be my usual, charming and witty self. I kept the slightly insane part of me on the shelf at home today. Clever me.

It's probably a good thing that I freak out over this now instead of freaking out later. I am going to intentionally turn up 20 minutes earlier than the set meeting time at the rendevous point, order meself a nice cold Heineken and pour it down my throat before Spooner arrives so that I won't be a total basket case. Plus it will give me a chance to mentally prepare a list of possible things to chat about. Bloody hell, I sound like I am preparing for an interview!

The last time I went on a proper date I ended up in a 3.5 year long relationship with that person. That date started with lunch on a weekend and ended two days later. Needless to say I don't want that to happen again, at least not in the near future. Call me paranoid and I won't blame you because I am.

So Spooner and I have been communicating via email over a couple of weeks. Between the first email and latest one, there has been more than 80 mails flying back and forth. I have no idea if that's a good thing because we could end up having nothing to talk about later. On the other hand, it has been established that like me, he is the eldest of two children, has a younger brother that gets on his nerves, and is a DVD junkie. Other random bits of information - 1.8 metres tall, plays football, is a marine underwriter and gets hit on by gay men regularly. I am not quite sure what to make of the last part. Far be it from me to judge considering the number of times I have been hit on by lesbians. (Don't ask.)

Regardless of how tonight turns out, I suppose I have something to get out of the experience. I have to slowly start re-initiating myself into society by learning how to interact with new people again. I am not saying that this can only can be accomplished through serial dating. Of course I can meet new people by picking up a new hobby (not knitting), like uhm... joining a Alcoholics Anonymous group but I'll save that for after I get sick of being part of the 'Singles Meat Pool'.

In the meantime, wish me luck and I'll post-mortem the date tomorrow. (Yes, I know you people are damn kaypoh!)