Oh, how my friends laughed at the Opera and (no) chill story! “Poor guy. You’re evil, Vanilla!” No, no I am not. I am sometimes trapped by my insecurities, especially when I care about the outcome.
I sent Beaut the link to that post. He loved it. And then he was silent. I was miserable: I’d put it all out there. This was completely outside of my comfort zone: asking a guy out, writing about him, acknowledging that I’d wanted more that a simple kiss on the cheek and that I needed more time before letting my guard down. If he didn’t follow up, I couldn’t possibly continue pursuing him. I was exhausted.
Luckily for me, 24 hours later Beaut invited me over for supper. Chez lui. He would cook for me. If that isn’t charming, I don’t know what is.
Yesterday was the day. I was nervous. I was extremely nervous. I hadn’t heard from him all day – why was he being quiet? Maybe Beaut had changed his mind. Maybe he was going to cancel on me. Maybe he had found somebody better. Maybe he was a player, and he’d decided I was simply too vanilla. I couldn’t concentrate. Vulnerability was overrated. Here I was, facing disappointment, an evening alone, and risking starvation. I was done. No more dating for me: I was ready to embrace my life as a cat-less cat-lady.
As I was about to take a vow of chastity, Beaut messaged me to let me know that he was about to go grocery shopping for our dinner. He was looking forward to it. He also admitted that being a total bachelor, living alone, he’d never bothered investing in a kitchen table. Solemnly, he listed our alternatives: picnic on the bed, picnic on the floor, eating at his work desk.
You guys. Cute. Inviting someone over for dinner with no table is cute. It also struck me as something only a guy would do. In his shoes, I would have never invited anyone over. Ever. I would embrace a cat-lady lifestyle rather than allow anyone to witness my unorthodox interior design.
I was doubtful as to what supper would taste like. I correlated absent kitchen furniture with absent cooking skills. Very ironic, since I have a fully stocked kitchen, and I can’t cook to save my life. Well, I’d underestimated him. Beaut had planned a 3-course meal. A healthy delicious 3-course meal. I assumed those 2 adjectives were mutually exclusive. I was amazed; he was confused about my amazement – he was just cooking normal food. Wrong, sir. Wrong.
We ate picnic-style on his living room floor. The walls were covered in hand-written notes, organized in batches. He explained that, since the age of 16, he’s enjoyed drafting outlines for novels. This was his most recent attempt, organized by character groupings: each page was a character description, below an overall summary of their character arc. There was a camera tripod; Beaut takes an interest in photography. He likes to sew. He’s pursuing a university certificate in a field dramatically different from his current career because he “needed mental stimulation”. His dream is to one day open a restaurant.
As the conversation flowed, always funny, never boring, I realized that my frequent surprise at his stories and opinions was driven from a deep-seated conviction that a beautiful man such as Beaut must be a narrow-minded douchebag. Sure, I’d always been intrigued by his reserve, but then again, I’ve always made the mistake of assuming silence means substance. I’d agreed to his supper invite expecting him to confirm my bias at some point or the other. I’d been all wrong. Thank goodness I didn’t take that vow of chastity!
After 2 hours of good food, unexpected conversation, and respectful distances, I told him that if the night ended and he hadn’t even TRIED to kiss me, I’d be pissed.
Beaut happily obliged. 🙂
Boom. Opera and no chill: it is a thing.
Discovering ratchet 
Omg, AMAZING!!! I’m so totally psyched for you and hope that you and Beaut get together again soon, he sounds like an incredibly kind, intelligent and insanely talented guy, in other words perfect for the amazing, incredibly kind, intelligent and insanely talented you!
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Deeeeeeeeeep breaths. Yes, he is pretty sweet, but keep in mind who I’ve been comparing him against: total trainwrecks. Of course he’ll seem amazing!!
I hope we see each other soon too, but really, to me, the point of this story was that I stepped out of my comfort zone, took a few risks, and it paid off. THAT is what I’m super pumped about.
#vulnerabilityisabitch
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Sounds like an absolutely great date! Maybe, as things progress, you can give him your kitchen furniture and then he can make all your meals 😉
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I like how you think!
Instead I am having him over, and will attempt to cook for him.
This will only lead to a disaster.
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He is definitely unique. Intriguing. Odd, but not in an off-putting way.
Fascinating that a beautiful man wouldn’t be full of himself. I haven’t met any yet who seemed like they weren’t, although many beautiful women who seemed down-to-earth.
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He is all of those things. And I agree – I am so prejudiced against beautiful men, that I have trouble accepting he isn’t a douchebag!
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Yes. It is not unreasonable to suspect handsome men might be guilty of even more egotism than the average man–who, for instance, overestimates his attractiveness to the opposite sex. It would take some time to relax.
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Yeah. I was nervous because he was beautiful, I was nervous because I liked him and I knew it (I’d been basking in the glory of my crush for months), and I was nervous because it felt like it counted. I was nervous about being chez lui. I was nervous because it felt I was taking a risk – and I had spent YEARS avoiding risks whenever possible!
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I automatically discount and dismiss extremely handsome men. In my age group, I am, frankly, stupid, not to at least speak with any non-odiferous decently-groomed male who expresses interest. Instead, I have turned away, while having the following self-affirming thoughts:
1) D-Dang!
2) He’s gotta be a stuck-up jerk.
3) I’m not in his league. If he thinks I am now, he wouldn’t when we undressed.
4) He can’t be interested in me: He’s too good-looking. Even if we dated, he’d drop me fast, or cheat.
5) Hey! He was smiling right AT me!
By that time, I turn back. Five minutes have passed. He is gone.
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3 and 4. Yes. YES. ALL THE TIME.
In fact, 4 is still a problem. The internal dialogue in my mind is pretty intense, and I have crippling insecurities when it comes to Beaut even though he has done nothing, NOTHING, to deserve them other than have a beautiful face (and body).
Its a pity, bc if I am not careful, these insecurities will sabotage wtv this thing with Beaut is. He cannot be held responsible for assuaging MY baggage and insecurities. But boy oh boy, is it exhausting, dealing with the paranoia and the doubt.
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Yes. With Fang, I learned he approached all pleasures with mindfulness: Just enjoy. Worry is fruitless. What does it serve?
You are best off assuming the best. At the same time, since I was married to a highly-duplicitous sociopath who hid mistresses, businesses, and bank accounts, I will always keep myself protected financially, and be less accepting of any and all feeble excuses for multiple “absences”.
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Yeah. It is tricky navigating assuming positive intent without being naive or gullible. It is hard to be savvy and practical without being paranoid.
Men. they give us baggage.
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