I had a 42-minute date tonight.
I may have spent more time cyberstalking him to make sure he wasn't a serial killer than we actually spent on the date.
We went to a natural history museum at BYU. (If you've never been, I highly recommend it.) We talked for most of the time about school, work, life plans, etc. It was fairly standard first date conversation -- nothing particularly mind-expanding, but I enjoyed it. I laughed. We joked. We made a girl who was drawing a picture of a bobcat laugh. He teased me a little bit about the way I said rhinoceros (rhinoceraws instead of rhineroceris).
And then, after we'd covered the whole museum, we walked into the parking lot, talked for about a minute, and then he said, "Well, nice to meet ya" and walked to his car. He drove right past me walking to my car on his way out.
I feel like if I'm so willing to castigate the goofy guys I go out with, I also need to occasionally castigate the goofy girl the guys I go out with go out with.
I think some of tonight was me. At one point, he sat down on a bench. I sat down for a minute, but we weren't done with that floor of the museum, so then I stood up to look at the rest of it. Was that my unintended cue to him that I wanted out of there ASAP?
Stupid body language. You shouldn't be allowed to speak it if you don't understand it.
Then, in the parking lot I mentioned I was moving and he asked if I'd asked people to help. I said I would when the time came. Was he somehow volunteering to help and I shot him down?
Maybe I should talk less along the lines of law school and leaving. Maybe telling him that I move every six months led him to believe that I don't settle down. (Well, that's true.)
Argh! I finally go on a date with a guy with whom I have stuff in common and doesn't make me mentally curl into the fetal position and it lasts the same amount of time as an hour-long sitcom with the commercials taken out.