We did the group date last night at the wine tasting, as I posted yesterday. I will post later about the wines. The date was successful. No one ran screaming from the room or tried to leave early to go home to "wash their hair" or "walk the cat". They seemed to like each other. I doubt it was love at first sight or that anyone swooned but I think that this was at least a qualified success.
The woman was easily as advertised. She was blond, athletic, tall, pretty, smart, and interesting to talk to. The total package. A lot like my wife, actually, except for the tall part.
We drank and compared wines and they all made fun of me for being a wine nerd and actually taking notes on the wines and trying to taste them in flights. I didn't mind since it immediately gave them something in common to share -- teasing me.
Once I was sure that conversation was flowing, I tried my best to flit off for long periods to give privacy and allow them the opportunity to get to know each other. Also, I had a bunch of friends at this thing who I wanted to catch up with.
My wife and her friend had arranged a signal in case the date was going poorly. So, when I felt that 9 glasses of wine constituted an elegant sufficiency, I asked whether people wanted to go have dinner. I know that I needed something to eat after 2 hours of drinking. The signal was not passed and we adjourned for dinner.
Dinner was fun. Buddy and the girl shared an appreciation for bad old television and movie trivia. The girl did her best Muppet imitation and Buddy replied with his best Muppet. It was just that kind of evening. Both of them have cats, did I mention that? It seemed significant to them that they each had a cat.
We broke up to catch a 10:00 train home with the girl joining us as she lived farther up the line from us.
I await a report from my wife as to whether her friend would welcome further contact from Buddy, at which point, I will bow out.
Sorry if this post lacked it's usual polish, but, I am feeling every syllable of the immortal advice of Dean Vernon Wormer, in Animal House: "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son". I'd have been ok if my daughter had not favored me with a 2:10 wake up call this morning to go to the bathroom and then a 3:00 request to fix her blankets, which were all twisted.
Posted by Random Penseur at May 21, 2004 08:59 AM