So, the date.

I was nervous, y’all. I changed my clothes no less than fifteen times, and decided on a pair of black pants and a somewhat cleavagey red top that needed to be pinned*, lest I show the girls in all their glory and look like a fi’-dolla’ hooker.

*He wound up totally noticing the pin. But only because he was staring at my cleavage like a dirty boy.

He was late, due his daughter being bitten in daycare. I could empathize with this, because some little miscreant once bit the J-Man in his face, leaving a perfect circle of teeth marks and a large welt. I won’t tell you what I said to the kid’s parents, but it involved using a muzzle.

He showed up about a half-hour late, looking remarkably like Ed Norton. (Score!) (He shall henceforth be referred to as “Norton”.) Norton was not wearing tennis shoes on the date, which you all know is a pet peeve of mine, but Doc Martens. Score two for Norton.

We went to a local lunch place I had never been to that seemed OK, sort of expensive for a sandwich joint, which made me balk a little, but not bad. The waitresses were wearing tiny booty shorts, and we joked about that. I didn’t notice him ogling the plethora of ass on display, and that was nice. Another point for Norton, for not being a blatant ass-looker.

He was cool. He seemed pretty laid-back and funny, and when he talked about his ex-wife it wasn’t all OMG BITCH FROM FUCKING HELL, so that was a good thing, too. There’s nothing worse than being on a date in which someone continuously rails on their ex. We talked about our kids, music, movies, etc.

Then we finished eating, and came back to my house, which made me nervous, because A – my house was not in the most pristine state, and B – what the fuck were we going to do at my house, anyway?

We ended up talking and looking at photo albums and stuff, and after a while he looked at me and said, “Can I kiss you?”

I thought about it for a second, and then decided to go for it.

We ended up making out on the couch for a good twenty minutes, because I am a dirty whore.

Seriously.

I don’t DO that on first dates, kids. I really don’t. I am not THAT dirty of a girl. I can generally keep my bad bad little hormones in check, at least for a while.

But he was such a good kisser, and he was so cool, and… and… well, I just said fuck it.

Because I am a dirty whore.

He had to leave at three, because that was the deal – there was no way in hell I was introducing him to my mother and son on a first date, dirty whore-ness notwithstanding – and we made plans to go thrift shopping on Monday, because we both like to do so.

All in all, it was very cool, and I’m excited about seeing him again.

I gave him a copy of the little book I published a few years ago – some of you might have this – because he seemed interested, and I guess he read quite a bit of it yesterday afternoon, and he called me last night to discuss it.

He said that he really enjoyed it and that he could see himself in a relationship with me (!).

Shock and awe.

I didn’t quite know what to say to that beyond “I like you, too.”

So that was my day. Intriguing, to be sure.

I’m interested to see what happens with Norton. Obviously this was only a first date and he could still wind up being a serial killer/social tool/stalker, but things are looking good so far.

And did I mention he was a good kisser? Score another point for Norton.

Happy Weekend.

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