Real Date #1 was tonight. And, so as not to disappoint, it was very much in the style of Sunday’s meet-and-greet. Our evening started as I met him at the train station in his part of town. He held up his hand, not in greeting, but to show me a slightly bloody cut and asked me if I minded if we stopped at Walgreen’s for some bandages. I did not mind. After a careful bandage selection, we went to this odd little Moroccan/American diner. I think we might have been the only patrons of the day, or perhaps ever, ’cause the guy was more excited than he should have been to see us. He checked on us half a dozen times and brought us free soup before our meal. Anyway, good conversation; great french fries. Afterward we went back to his place (a phrase used perfectly innocently, but sounds bad) and he did some laundry. Oh yes. He had started it before meeting me (that’s how he had cut his hand apparently) and threw his clothes in the dryer. Well, okay, he didn’t throw them. He sorted them into lights and darks in separate dryers. I did not know that guys actually did that. I don’t even do that.
Nothing terribly bizarre happened after the laundry. There was a some piano playing and some kissing involved (but not at the same time like in Pretty Woman, though that would have been cool) but… eh. I don’t know. He’s nice.
Him: “What is it you do exactly?”
Me: “I basically sit at a computer all day and input numbers.”
Him: “But your ideal career would have you sitting at a computer all day inputting letters. How did that happen?”