So , going back to last Friday….
I am supposed to meet Mr. DWTS at 6:00pm at a local dance studio for a West Coast Swing lesson. I adore dancing and as a single mother on a rather fixed (often fluctuating) income, I rarely get out to dance other than the occasional Zumba class. So I was excited to learn a new dance. Sam was spending the evening with some friends and needed to be dropped off by 5:45pm in order for me to get to the studio on time (which I had to google because I am still rather new in town so a little more wiggle room on time would have been nice but schedules matched this way). Around 4:45pm I begin the process of choosing my outfit. in answer to a Facebook plea for fashion advice earlier in the afternoon, my friend Jeanine suggested jeans and a nice top as a good “go to” first date outfit. I decided on my white jeans which I washed earlier in the day and a sleeveless silky ruffled necked top both from J. Crew.
Here is the outfit I put together:
At 5:05pm I start to get dressed and realize that all of my nude and white panties are in the dirty clothes hamper. AGGGHHH! I really hate the thought of any indication of colored underwear underneath white pants so I freaked. I had to wash some nude seamless panties in the sink then toss them in the dryer in hopes they would dry in time. I put on make-up, tried to create an alternate outfit which was a dismal failure and checked the dryer which seemed to be almost completely ineffective at this point. How long can it take to dry one pair of panties on low anyway? Apparently longer than 20 minutes because at 5:28pm I grabbed the still slightly damp panties out of the dryer and sucked it up and put them on, jumped into my jeans and headed out the door with a slight grimace on my face as I felt the cool clammy feel of my underwear.
All in the name of propriety, right?
I made it to the studio about five minutes late and the lesson started. When I got there it really hit me how little I know about this guy. I met him once and barely know anything about him, including his last name. He made more than one comment about my “dancing” shoes (the only pair of slick soled shoes I own are highish heals with leopard print and patent leather pumps) which made me uncomfortable. He also seemed a little nervous and wimpy as a dancer at first but about half way through the lesson started to ease up a bit and get into the groove. Dancing was fun. I learned a tiny bit about West Coast Swing and enjoyed the safe interaction.
Afterwards we drove separately to a nice restaurant downtown. Here’s were I panicked. As we sat down to chat I really REALIZED for the first time the implications that this man reads my blog. Suddenly all the posts came flooding into my head and the relationship between us seemed way off balance. I said something about how awkward that was and he said, “I already know everything about you. You had a bikini wax three weeks ago and you have on nice underwear.” (The irony here is that I have on an ancient, ugly, rather worn out racer back bra and icky 95% dry panties.)
I guess I had never truly considered what impression someone might have of me if they knew me only from my blog. It was certainly interesting that these were the things that stood out about me.*
We had a wonderful meal with excellent service and a nice conversation which revealed to me that we have too little in common to be romantically compatible. I would like to dance some more though. Maybe he would consider a dancing partner type of relationship until he finds someone else who is a better all around partner for him?
*NOTE TO SELF: Do not give out blog info to potential dates.