Mr. Unavailable #118: He's Got Wheels

See The Five-Year Time Warp for the background on this one.

Pre-Date: #118 Facebook-messaged me on a Wednesday and we settled on Thursday for our date. He seemed iffy on the planning and I began to wonder if he was a little clueless about dating. It made me miss #111, who was an excellent dater. I shared my concern with Kevin and he said, "Well, [#111] may have been a great dater but he was a shitty boyfriend, so I hope this guy is the worst fucking dater ever because that probably means he'd be the sweetest boyfriend in the world." He had a point.

First Date: I slyly avoided a potentially awkward Black Swan date (a "psychosexual thriller" for a first date? not so much) and opted for dinner. It turned out I was wrong about his dating abilities. He called me the day of the date to let me know what he had in mind. He'd chosen a restaurant in the West Village and said he'd pick me up. At first I thought that meant he'd take the subway over from Brooklyn and come get me, which impressed me. And then I realized that he meant he was going to pick me up in his car, which impressed me even more.

He called before he left to say he'd call when he got to my place. And then he called when he got stuck on the bridge to say he was stuck on the bridge and would be late. And then he called me from downstairs to say he had arrived. I went outside and, when I couldn't get over the snowbank and started to walk ahead on the sidewalk, he followed me in his truck, stopping when he saw I'd found a place to walk through. It's the little things like that that make a difference. When I got in the front seat, I said, "I was thinking, 'I bet he has a truck.'" I gave him a kiss on the cheek and a sidelong hug across the front seat, which he held onto extra long, and told him it was good to see him. And it was good to see him. No one was more surprised than I was.

I wish I had a more clever way of putting it, but driving across town in the front seat of his truck felt, well, really good. And, as we talked, each time I glanced at him from the passenger seat, seeing him in his black knit hat and scarf, which emphasized a pretty attractive profile, I thought ever more emphatically, "He's cute!" We found a parking spot in the West Village about a block from the restaurant and...

[OK, I've been resisting comparing him to #111, but I can resist no longer... It took #111 more than a month into our dating for him to have the courage to even call me on the phone and here #118 had called me four times before our first date. And #111 couldn't even figure out how to rent a car let alone figure out how to own one, drive it across town to pick me up and then find a parking space without freaking out or without acting like it was somehow my fault that he was freaking out...]

Anyway, why hadn't I seen how cute #118 was five years ago? (Oh, wait, I know. Probably because I was still experiencing the horror of being crushed by #88 and couldn't see the forest, the trees or anything remotely rustic, which, judging from the fact that #118 has a truck and an assortment of thermoses on the dashboard, he is.)

We got out of the truck and walked to the restaurant and my Seinfeldian critic kicked in: He was of smallish stature. (Which, I told my inner critic, was fine.) We sat down and I could tell that well, he's a little different ... socially. A little awkward ... maybe. In a friendly way ... certainly.... Certainly not asocial or anything... (Which, I told my inner critic, was fine.)

It turned out he'd worked at the restaurant 20 years before and two people who were there then were there now, so he said hello. One of them, our waiter, who was a bit balding on top, asked him if he still had hair and he took his hat off and shoved it around, leaving it a bit lopsided, showing that he was clearly not vain in any way. (Which was fine...And, not only was it fine, I reminded myself, but it was completely the opposite of #111, who was extremely concerned about how he looked to others.)

At dinner, we talked so much that every time we'd start on something (books, work history, being the middle child) we'd veer off into tangents, so, now, as I sit here writing this, I'm thinking of all the unfinished threads of conversation. The food was good and, obviously, the conversation was good. At about the third hour, as I started to feel tired, he said something like, "So, what do you think?" A little awkward, but I knew what he was getting at and admitted I was getting tired. He said he was, too, and said he'd get the check. I took out my wallet and he shooed it away.

When we got back to his truck, he opened my door for me--and then closed it for me. And then drove me home, asking me when we got to my building if I wanted to see Black Swan, saying, "Not Saturday because you're going dancing, but maybe SundayMondayorTuesday..." He said it just like that, all smooshed together. His interest was adorable. "Sunday, Monday or Tuesday. Or Wednesday, Thursday or Friday," I teased. I said good-bye and went to give him a hug and kiss and, like any smart guy on a first date, he went for the lips. I let him succeed just a little. And when I pulled back after the hug, I could tell he wasn't so eager to let go (Which, it turned out, was totally fine. And no one was more surprised at that than I was.)

Signs of Hope: So many. Like I said, I was impressed from the start. I can't even remember the last time I was picked up for a date in a car. College? High school? There's just something about being driven around by a guy you like.

Red Flags: He exhibited some dissatisfaction with his work life and admitted to a mid-life crisis, which, in my experience, often indicates--but, of course, doesn't guarantee--that a guy is a runner.

Otherwise, as usual the red flag with most guys who appear available at first is me. There's a strong chance that I'm not going to like him on date #2--and probably date #4, too. I have to promise myself to hang in there until at least date #5--assuming, that is, that he wants to hang in there, too.

Diagnosis: He seems interested. I feel interested. Here's to date #5.