Average Jane



My New Dating Policy: Swine Flu (H1N1) Part 2

I got home after my treacherous trip to the gym and frantically tried to make plans for Saturday night. If I had plans, I wouldn’t be bored, and his note said, “Gimme a call if you’re bored later.” Really, at that point the decision would be made for me. Unfortunately, my attempts to make plans were futile and I was left… bored. I consulted one of my few single girlfriends on what to do about the boy. Do I call? Do I just let the offer expire?  But in her typical no-bull way, she told me to go. Call him. I opted for text.

“Did you end up making plans tonight? It’s Jane. From the gym.”

“No plans yet. Did you have something in mind?”

“Not really. Have a favorite spot to get drinks?”

At this point, I know I have reached the text-message-conversation limit. If it can’t be solved in 4 texts, pick up the fucking phone. When I got his response, “My friends try to drag me to Ned’s all the time, but I don’t drink that much.” I decided it was time for the call.

No drinks was fine with me. Ice cream was WAY better. 8:30pm. Cold Stone. It was on like donkey kong. (Side note: The mental debate over whether I should mention the coupon I had for Cold Stone was brief, with “oh hell no” triumphing in the end.)

There was no hug when I arrived. We each paid for our own scoops. We walked and talked awkwardly about nothing in particular.  But after 45 minutes we had run out of both ice cream and strip mall, and he asked if I wanted to go somewhere for a drink. I said OK. We picked a pool hall with darts — my perfect date.

On the drive over to the bar (we drove separately — stranger danger!), I noticed a tickle in my throat. I felt fine, but my sinuses had opened the flood gates and I was starting to feel the wrath. Ignoring it at first, I proceeded to the bar and we ordered the first round. I won a game. He won a game. I won a game. We took a break. Second round of drinks. Two more rounds of darts. He came out victorious. I needed some water before heading home, and I was starting to feel worse and worse. Without realizing it, I drank out of his straw.

I freaked out. People were getting sick left and right, my boss included, and I was NOT going to be responsible if he got the plague. I made a beeline to the bar, grabbed a new straw and thrust it into his glass apologizing profusely. Completely confused, I explained that my boss was sick and I just didn’t want to take any chances. It was at that point I realized I had just saved the night. Her possible (but not actual) case of swine flu got me off the hook for any sort of good night kiss. Not that I didn’t want to kiss him, but I didn’t even have to think about it.  It wasn’t going to happen.

And thank fuck it didn’t.

I woke up with a 100.2 degree fever.  I wanted to die. Achy and hot/cold, I swore I had been hit with the plague. I canceled all my plans and then hunkered down to figure out my plan of attack for Gym Boy. Do I tell him I was a possible germmonger? I felt obligated. As the Cultural Contributor mused, “Did you maintain a 6′ sphere of sanitation?” No. I had not.

So, in the most awkward post-date-follow-up-communication EVER, Gym Boy got this note from yours truly:

In the interest of full disclosure, I spoke too soon about my boss having the plague. I woke up this morning with a 100.2 degree fever. I don’t feel like death, necessarily, but I feel 100% deathier than I felt last night. This is the most embarrassing post-hangout-date-type-thing I’ve ever had to write but heaven forbid you do get sick, I want to apologize in advance. 😦 I’ll be online throughout this rainy, awful, deathy day. Perhaps I’ll talk to you soon… In my sexy sick voice. – Jane

I held my breath and hoped for the best. A while later, I got this response:

By all means, you don’t have to apologize for maybe possibly giving me a chance at getting sick. I almost never get sick- in fact I would say I have a propensity for health (throw salt over shoulder). ha. But seriously, I hope you feel better soon… ASAP”

And later, I got a text: “If you feel better later this week, maybe we could get dinner or drinks.” Looks like honesty was the best policy after all.

Joe Biden was wrong, though. I didn’t get the plague/Swine Flu/H1N1 afterall. Too much Ibuprofen and a long nap later, the fever was gone and I was back in good form. Now, one date does not a happy ending make, but it was not just a date, it was a good date. And apparently there will be another date. And a no-pressure date at that.

I gotta be honest. I liked the whole No-Kiss-On-A-First-Date thing. And my shrink is into the no-sex-for-a-really-long-time thing. I can get into this. I think there’s something to taking it slow. We’ll see how long it lasts. A girl has needs, you know…

Advertisements

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. This date wasn’t worth the calories « Average Jane pingbacked on 8 years, 3 months ago

Comments

  1. Good luck with gym-boy, darts and ice cream sound like a charming first date.

    | Reply Posted 8 years, 3 months ago
  2. * Realist says:

    This is what I’ve been saying all the time: don’t panic over the swine flu–enjoy the day as usual and meet new people.

    | Reply Posted 8 years, 3 months ago
  3. Yes! Finallyy something about community.

    | Reply Posted 2 years, 10 months ago


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: