… I don't know how to talk to a specific person and connect. I just think you have to go to person by person and do the best you can with people in general." – Jason Schwartzman
I had a date a few weeks ago. This is a new guy whom I'll be calling Preston because he works in printing (printing press, get it? I don't really care if you do because really, it just makes me giggle calling him that). We met online (imagine that), emailed for about two weeks, progressed to texting for another week, and went out on a Saturday night.
It's amazing we actually made it to a date because in all honesty, I had a number of failed suicide attempts that day. I fell in the shower, right on my tailbone, and hit my head on the ceramic shelf on the way down. Then I tried to electrocute myself not once but twice! Okay, so that part is a bit of an exageration considering I simply tripped the circuit breaker twice when I was trying to blow dry my hair and my mom was steam cleaning the rugs at the same time. The third time I just went into my sister's room to finish the job.
I digressed again, didn't I?
Anyways, got ready, got in the car, and went to meet Preston. Whom I have to say was MUCH cuter than his picture. And he was bald. *Sigh and dopey face here*
Yeah, he was THAT cute.
Met at a bar, had a few drinks, good conversation. Went to leave, and a good night kiss turned into several good night kisses. Which in turn headed into the hot and heavy territory. But before we could get there, Preston extracted himself and said he had to go home to let his dogs out. Which was followed up quickly with an invitation to follow him home.
Not going to lie. I totally took him up on his invite.
Fifteen minutes later, after arriving at Preston's house, we were snogging (Urban Dictionary is your friend if you don't know what snogging is) and the dogs were outside in the backyard attached to their leashes. Which by the way, his two dogs were rescue boxers. Tear, right?
Anyways…. Just as things were getting interesting, there was a terrible yelping outside.
I'm tossing my usual modesty aside here and completely bragging: You know you're a good kisser when it takes a full thirty seconds for the guy you're kissing to register that not only have you stopped kissing him and are poking him in the ribs, but that there's a tremendous racket going on outside.
"What in the hell is that noise?" Preston asked angrily.
"Preston, I think that's your dog!" He had a dazed and confused look (bragging again, I know) and then all the sudden it registered.
I have never seen a man move that fast.
No sooner had Preston gotten outside when the yelping abruptly stopped. I was in the midst of untangling myself from a blanket (it had been on the back of the couch when we started, no idea how I got tangled up in it) when Preston came charging back in carrying the dog.
I kid you not, I have no idea who was shaking more, Preston or the dog. It took about five minutes for Preston to calm the dog down. It took the dog and I more than 20 minutes to try and calm Preston down in turn. "She tried jumping the fence," Preston explained while rubbing the dog down. "The leash got caught and she was hanging there…." I began rubbing his back in turn.
I had realized immediately that there was no recovering our night, but I finally found an exit point and went into the bathroom to straighten myself out and fix my hair and make up to the best of my ability. Which was a good thing because when I came out of the bathroom….
"Ma'am, ma'am! Are you okay?"
I spun around and came face to face with the Wyandotte Police. I looked at Preston with a "what in the hell" kind of look on my face.
"My neighbor called the cops," Preston explained.
"Ma'am, are you okay?" the cop demanded again.
"I'm fine. The dog tried to jump the fence while attached to her leash and got hung up on the fence," I answered.
"The neighbor said it sounded like a woman was getting beaten." There was definitely a suspicious tone in his voice.
"I'm fine. It's the dog who you should be asking." The dog came and sat in front of me and I leaned over to pet her and Preston stepped outside to wrap up the conversation with Wyandotte's finest. A few moments later, he came back in, shut the door, and was leaning against it. We stared at one another for a moment and then we both started laughing. Admittedly, it was slightly hysterical and maniacal, but it was definitely laughter.
"I gotta hand it to you, Preston," I said. "You sure know how to show a girl a memorable time."