Well, It's Happened...

I broke my Cardinal Rule.

I allowed myself to kiss and be kissed on the first date.  And guess what, dear reader(s)?  It came back to bite me in the butt.

I believe I may have mentioned this in a previous post, so forgive my potential redundancy.  I have rules, guys.  Rules to help keep me from getting too attached, from over-thinking, from emotions.

I broke one of my rules.  And it's not the "No Facebooking" rule, because that could be easily managed ("Oops, I must have misspelled my last name."  "Oh, I didn't realize that was you, Tonsil Hockey!" "I don't really use Facebook all that often."  "My pet panda must have gone through my Friends List and deleted everybody AGAIN."  The excuses for not accepting someone's FB invite are limitless if you're creative enough.)

No, it wasn't that rule.  Couldn't have been the one I broke.  It was the No Kissin' on the First Date Rule.

I know myself, you guys.  I. Get. Attached.  And easily, to boot.  Part of this experiment has become a mission in decidedly NOT getting attached to anybody, especially the closer I get to The Big Move.  So, believe me when I say that this is the Number One Unbreakable Rule.

Naturally, I couldn't help myself after a couple of beers and a Really Cute Guy.  Let's call him... Skirt Man (details to come later.  Promise).

Skirt Man is another of the OKC victims dates.  He lives up in Annapolis, which made meeting up somewhat difficult, but after a few weeks(!) of texting back and forth, lo and behold, somebody had a work meeting in Old Town!  I already had dinner plans with family that night, so we decided to meet up for some Happy Hour adult beverages close to my house.  He was quite the gentleman, and I found myself having a great time.  Excellent conversation (primed by the aforementioned weeks of texting) was combined with a physical attraction and probably more beers than recommended for this kind of occasion.  He walked me back to my house- I told you he was a gentleman- and came inside for a few minutes, since someone had left the front door open (no intruders- yes!).  And he kissed me.  And I kissed back.  It was great, and probably a really good thing that I had Family Dinner that night, since he was very forward with his intentions, both vocally that night and via text over the next fortnight.

Okay, so Fast Forward a couple of weeks to the next opportunity we have to get together.  I was up in Baltimore to have dinner with one of my very best friends and his parents, so Skirt Man and I met up for a couple of beers.  Oh, right.  The skirt.  He texted me a picture of a skirt he'd bought and he was really excited about wearing it.  Did I mention he was actually wearing the skirt in question in said picture?  Maybe I did dodge a bullet here... ha  Turns out it's a kayaking "skirt," made of some material that allows for him to do barrel rolls or some other craziness without having water get in the craft.  Who knows?!  ANYway... so we met up at a bar, got a couple of beers and chatted for awhile.  Then we went to an art museum since I still had some time before meeting up with my friend.  Hand-holding commenced, which was pretty cute (at least I thought so!).  The time came for me to see my friend, so I drove him back to his car.  We got there, and before getting out of the car, he looks me in the eyes, leans in and...








hugs me.







Seriously, dude?  You knew my rule (yes, I disclosed the rule prior to the kiss), broke my rule, and then nada??  Talk about some poor manners.

I think I covered my initial shock well, but over the next couple of days, I found myself getting more and more irked by what went down, or rather what didn't go down.  I texted Skirt Man later that week, and was informed that he didn't want to start anything with me leaving so soon.  SO THEN WHY ASK ME OUT AGAIN??  Needless to say, I haven't contacted him since.

Ugh.  Boys.