In keeping with my new and improved dating outlook (ie wont complain about it constantly, but rather stick to only solid, bitter recriminations intermittently), I decided to put all suggestions into play for my return flight to Los Angeles. Not only did I put on the lipstick battle armor, but the mascara and concealer. Quite clearly, I was a woman on a mission.
I even gave that positive affirmation thing a go—well, you know, mostly.
So, when fate intervened on my behalf, I was thinking this is it… I’m going in.
You see “cute boy” had a ticket for 18E. But he got mixed up and sat in 19E instead, which landed him right next to me. He could have moved when the other guy showed up, but instead the other guy just took his seat.
Fate doesn’t get clearer than this. There was practically a big neon arrow pointed to “cute boy” saying “if you don’t talk to this boy, you are officially hopeless and should just start interviewing at convents now”. Ok, it would have been a really big neon arrow to fit all that writing on it, but you get the idea.
Without even speaking to him (well, he was watching the movie and napping at first, it would have been rude to strike up a conversation right off the bat), I knew we had the potential for being very happy together.
He had the sacred set of pluses:
SSP#1: Despite him not being able to figure out the tricky plane seat numbering, the boy reads. He took out a book when he sat down. Not a “How to Shoot Your Own Girl’s Gone Wild Video” kind of book, but an honest to goodness award-winning novel. Seriously, my palms got a little sweaty when he took it out of his bag.
SSP#2: He has a job. He works for an investment bank, which means he’d understand my schedule. At least, I think he works for an investment bank. He pulled his laptop out from a bag stamped with a well-known IB’s logo. He did look young-ish, I hope it wasn’t his dad’s bag. Hmmmm Anyway, I’m going with employed.
SSP#3: Had the combo of cute and polite. He said all the appropriate please and thank you’s. Boys with manners… yum.
SSP#4: No ring. No ring tan line. Yes!
So, we shared a meal. Well, ok, he had his airplane food, and I had mine, but we were sitting right next to one another and did occasionally exchange words. This qualifies as one of my better dates, actually. In fact, it may fulfill my resolution for the year regarding dates with romantic intent. Mwhaa haa haaa
As we got closer to landing, I realized that I didn’t have much time to launch the plan. I had decided that “employed, reading, single, cute boy” was going to get one of my best moves (ok, I only have 2 moves, but work with me here).
I like to refer to this as the “clutch, and blush winningly”. Basically, I take advantage of any significant turbulence or rough landing to desperately grab my arm rest, but I miss and land somewhere on unsuspecting “employed, reading, single, cute boy”. Then, realizing my mistake, I quickly release him and blush, etc.
This has the potential for starting conversation for two reasons:
1. I am a brilliant actress, and have missed my calling.
2. I genuinely loathe flying, and tend to actually grab my armrest whenever there is turbulence anyway.
At first, I thought it wasn’t going to work—we had an unnaturally easy descent into Los Angeles. Every other time, we’re bouncing along like the wind is playing catch with the plane, but nooooooooooooooo today, smooth sailing. And you can’t just throw the move in without motivation. Then you just look like you are having a fit or something, opening yourself up to assault charges, or a serious conversation with an air marshal.
But then our landing came, and I threw the move. Success! I clutched and blushed. He laughed. I laughed. We were Mr. and Mrs. Incredibly Charming. What a great “How We Met” story for the kids.
As we taxied in, he pulled out a cell phone to let his buddy know when he’d be out. I was working on my next set of “Golly, do you work at that IB? Do you know xxxx (which would have been a completely made up name, of course)?” when he finished up his call with “See you soon. Love you, Sweetie.”
Huh? Dudes say that to other dudes, right? Could still be a buddy and not a winsome blond girl right? Right? No? Seriously??
I wasted my best move on a guy with a serious girlfriend.
There needs to be a new rule. Guys who are dating someone need to be marked in some sort of obvious way. Another kind of ring… perhaps through the nose. A tattoo on the forehead. Something obvious, and impossible to remove. No wonder he was so neat and clean—no bachelor there. I should have known. No man with that many SSPs going for him could still be in the wild roaming free.
Seriously! Hands up for the new rule!
Kate, positive dating affirmations my ass, in LA
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