The Universal Language
So I've said it before, I have this second date problem. We'll call it... Second Date Problem. I am totally Non-Second-Date-Committal. Not always, but most of the time.
If a boy isn't a You-Make-Me-Wanna on the first date, then I'm ambivalent about going on a second, even if he's a Maybe and not a Potential or a Totally Fuckable. Know what I mean?
So, while I had a fun time getting my snowed out smooch on with the SuperRock Boy on Sunday night, by the time yesterday rolled around, the eve of our planned second rendezvous, I was Super Cranky and close to cancelling. But I didn't have a good enough reason to cancel. What was I supposed to say? "Hi, um, Rock Boy? I know we had plans for tonight? But I'm sorry. I won't be able to go out with you because I'm having A Mood brought on by Second Date Dating Disorder (SDDD)"? ..."You didn't make me want to tear my own clothes off the first time I saw you so, can I have a rain check which I may or may not ever cash? Yeah, it's totally that SDDD thing again..."?
Lord. I can't remember what it's like to meet someone for the first time and be so Superexcited to see them the second time. Where have all the Superexciting men gone? Where are the ones who light up the room upon entering? Where are the Supersexified Can't Get Enough Of You Babies? Where have all The Bakers gone? Do you know? Do you know, do you know?
Well, I didn't cancel. I met the Rock Boy for dinner last night and then drinks at one of my favorite Dark Red Dives. It was rough-going at first. He was shy and nervous which made me nervous and something just short of annoyed. Maybe impatient? Uncomfortable? I don't think he noticed. Anyway, a few drinks in us and we got a little looser. Funny how that works. Though I sorta sadly did not spend the whole night trying to touch him dirtily, nor was I fighting any serious urge to mount him right on that bar stool (wait, I think my temperature's rising), he is super-cute, super-tall, super-skinny, has super rock star hair and, you know, a funny thing starts to happen when I listen to his rock band.
I get Super Horny.
I don't care if I sound not unlike a 14-year-old Itty Bitty Titty Committee Member writing in her pink lock-and-key diary about how she's obsessed with the 19-year-old guitar-carrying motorcycle dude who lives next door because he offered to take her for a ride sometime. SHRIEK!
This band... this band... they're like Devo slash David Bowie slash Black Sabbath slash The Who slash Blondie slash The Ramones slash Def Leppard. They're electro-glam-punk-cock-rock. They have a smoke machine.
They're on supertour now and I am superwet just thinking about it.
