In a perfectly trendy place.
In a great neighbourhood.
It went well.
I can be a pretty sparkly conversationalist haha.
So we did the usual chat about things.
Definitely less chemistry than MrBrit (read here).
But nice enough.
Better practice at least.
And enough to allow me to go out on a date to try and just get the wheels turning away from the Jacob fiasco this weekend.
We had funny discussions of other girls he met on dates via the internet.
Some that say they are 30 but really are 35 or some that say they are nonsmokers and then proceed to chain smoke outside on the way to the subway.
Heck it made me feel like my drama dark secret maybe isn't half bad.
Because at least I'm honest about my age (30 gulp!) and I'm a nonsmoker.
And then something funny happened.
We got up after he picked up the tab (bonus point for him).
And as we walked out of the restaurant and toward the subway entrance.
I noticed something...
His profile read 5'7".
I didn't want to stare because something didn't seem right...
At the conclusion of our date/different subway trains to take.
I went to hug him and...
I was the over hugger...do you know what I mean?
I'm 5'3.5" (the .5 is important).
I'm the girl...and usually a total underhugger.
Like this chick
|Pic from here|
And OBVIOUSLY he wasn't 5'7" not even close.
And the fact that if you lie about stuff like this...who knows what else you are in store for.
It made me giggle the whole subway ride home.
Because all I could think about was this Sex and the City episode (Season 3 Episode Two).
You know the episode where Samantha dates a boy that wears a jacket from Bloomingdales Boy's Department.
I don't think there will be a second date.