Golden Gates And Egg Drop Soup

It’s your typical, bustling Tuesday afternoon in downtown San Francisco. Seventeen pedestrians on every corner, horns honking at bikers in the intersection, and lines for lunch out the door. I’m smarter than all the downtown lunchers because I call in my order 20 minutes in advance, plus I don’t bike. Score!

As I strolled into the closest Chinese buffet, I stood in line behind at least 3 other “smart” people who phoned their order before me. Crap. So I’m stuck in line after all. Just as I get ready to have a bitch-fit about why my Egg Drop soup isn’t ready (don’t they make it in the morning then just scoop it from a bucket anyway?), three handsome men get in line next to me. Let’s call them Bachelors #1, 2, & 3.

Bachelor #1 looks about 28, 6’1″, and caucasian. If you know me, then you know I’ve been wanting to date a White guy for a while now. I heard they’re obsessed with natural-haired Black women, and well…you get the point! But this guy wasn’t making the cut, not smooth enough. Bachelor #2 was handsome, looked 34-36, but I could already tell that he had whispered something to Bachelor #3–the one making eye contact with me. He was my type: wide shoulders (gets me every time), great smile, and the haircut Beyonce sang about. I saw #2 giving #3 these little signals, ya know, the she’s-cute-but-I-can-tell-you-like-her-more glance? Homegirl caught it, and Bachelor #3 was probably gonna approach me.

Bachelor #3 looked 30-33, a bit more handsome than #2, and wasn’t as scrawny as #1. Plus he went all in for the 3 entree special like me! I love a guy who likes to eat.

So I batted my eyes at him a few times while trying to figure out what I would say to give him some “I’m single” aura. But I had a really stern look on my face since my damn soup still wasn’t ready. I came up with this–

Me: Do you come here a lot?

Him: (laughs) I was just about to ask you the same question. Actually, we do, we work close by.

Me: Oh right, I work close, too. But I usually don’t have to wait on my food. Like, ever.

*blah, blah, small talk*

Him: So do you have a number where I can reach you? Or, here, I’ll give you mine and you can text me.

GOT HIM!

After the initial text where we established names/numbers, I was confused on what to do next. Clearly, we’re both now back in the office barely busy, but I usually prefer a phone call over texting on a first encounter. Can’t call. At work. Fast forward to the first time I did call him (let’s just say ‘later that day’), we were able to set up another lunch date. Now I feel special. And I like Bachelor #3 because he’s thinking like me…or has something more important than a dating life to fill his evenings with. With my luck, I’ve probably snagged yet another woman’s husband for the ___ time this year.

I was looking forward to this date. I wore leggings & made sure my toes were non-ashy. If it’s one thing I’ve learned in male/female relationships, guys can’t say no to a woman in leggings. We opted for a cheap fulfilling meal (aka Chipotle), but when I asked him where we were eating, he said, “Follow me.” WHAT?! This guy actually planned something in advance? Alright Ashton, I’m already ready for you to jump out with the cameras.

We strolled to a nearby park that, oddly, I’d never seen before. I didn’t tell him, but I was completely opposed to dining outdoors because downtown San Fran smells like pure ass. Around every corner. Seriously. But whatever. We grabbed a bench, he stared at my thighs (#winning), and I began to yap about my excitingly stressful job. Then he told me some things, and we had basic sweet conversation. It was quite refreshing to not have to pry decent communication from a guy…we’ll talk about that another time. After a slight pigeon attack and some unruly dog smells, it was time for us to split. And the verdict on Bachelor #3 is: iLike.

But before we parted, I told him that I was only in town for work & would be leaving in a few weeks. Insert his sad face. Now here’s where things got interesting. From then on, our communication was based on the fact that I won’t be here for long, “so we’ve gotta speed things up a bit.” Hold on brotha, where the did Sweet Convo Guy go? Is that my cue to pull down my pants or simply plan a dinner/movie date? I’m confused….or am I? In real life, I basically want the same thing he wants anyway, right? Sooooo what’s REALLY wrong with speeding things up?

Fast forward to our next date, and then another, and then…well if I told you everything, then I wouldn’t be a good girl because we don’t kiss-n-tell!! But I will confirm that wearing leggings gets women in trouble. After a while, he’s going in for a feel. Or maybe a grasp. Or maybe I should just stop typing now.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. lcooksmarketer1
    Jul 19, 2012 @ 01:58:22

    Haha. This is great!

    Reply

  2. Trackback: Drive-Thru Relationships « Rhonda Mae

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