See Could it Be?, It's Not Him, It's Me, The Recovery, We're Just Not That Into Each Other and The Continuation for the background on this one.
Date #6: The Secret in Their Eyes at the Angelika.
Background: According to the curse, I didn't like #111 on the even numbered dates, so this one was set for failure. I still tried to determine the formula, however, and noticed that on the dates where I liked him, he always got there first. So I did a couple of errands before arriving at the theater.
Signs of Hope: Walking up to him, sitting there reading (always reading), I realized I was instantly attracted to him. The curse was broken.
I'd forgotten how fun watching a movie with a guy could be: His hand, my leg; my arms, his arm; my head, his shoulder. After the movie, we made out on the street for a while trying to figure out what to do. He suggested my place. I told him it was a mess and said he could take a walk around the block while I threw things in closets. I had him go for skim milk and he came back with skim plus and two cupcakes. "I didn't want to come empty-handed," he said.
The date didn't go into quadruple space, but it was the date where you let each other know how much you like each other. "Adorable" and "seriously pretty," he said. ""Handsome" and "muscle-y," I said.
I asked him at what point when dating someone does he usually call them. He admitted he doesn't like talking on cell phones and then joked about getting a land line if I played my cards right. Although I was going away for the weekend but he asked about my availability Monday. He sent me a few messages over the weekend and all seemed well.
On Monday, I got the first train back from Hampton Bays and sent him a message asking if 7 p.m. would work. He said to call or text when I got there. His reply was fishily brief.
Red Flags: I wound up getting a message from him around 4:30 that said, "I hope you won't be too heartbroken but I'm going to have to cancel. I wasn't sure if we had definitive plans anyway. let me know what other day this week might work."
I was furious. For obvious reasons. I waited until he contacted me--more than 24 hours later in the form of an email: "Hey there, sorry about yesterday. Can I make it up to you?" I waited until the next day to respond: "Sure. What do you have in mind?"
Diagnosis: It's like we took four steps forward on the date and three steps back with the cancellation, but the three steps feel much bigger than the four. I wasn't sure what his deal was. Fear? Indecision? Married? Dating other people? It was tremendously disappointing. I polled my friends over what to do. One camp said to play the game better: be less available, don't lift a finger. The other camp said not to play games but to demand an explanation. I took the middle ground and we set up a date for a few days later...
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