The Ukrainian and I had a cute date last night, but I'm kind of being evil/unfair by indulging in things that remind me of Love Affair. We were perambulating through the Village and passed by the Chess Shop, this awesome little spot on Thompson and W. 4th where you can pay $1.50 an hour to play chess. It's a little serious business inside, but it's fun if you can grab a table outside.
Love Affair reintroduced me to chess. We would play at home, before we started dating. I loved playing with him because he would let me take back moves in a way that didn't seem generous at all. After a while I got better.
So after getting a few beers at The Peculier Pub--a chill spot with a quirky beer selection and a name that seems misspelled--and some very decent sushi rolls at Miyabi--The Ukrainian and I played chess last night, and of course he beat me because he's got that Russian blood in him. I did pretty damn well for losing my queen so early on.
This was our third date, and I kind of felt like we would probably kiss at some point that evening, and for some reason I was worried that it would happen too early in the evening, and then he'd try to make out with me constantly. So all night I was smoking like a fucken chimney to discourage him from kissing me. We had a final drink at some joint that turned out to be a Red Sox bar before we went down to the train and parted ways on the subway platform, where we awkwardly kissed each other goodbye. It was fine, because now we don't have deal with it anymore.
Isn't it weird that I just called our first kiss "fine?" Let's just let that one pass.
The problem came today. In my second email to The Ukrainian, I warned him that (a) I am a smoker and (b) I run away from guys who show too much interest in me, in an itemized list of disclaimers about 'j' items long. Well, kind of like Boy, The Ukrainian decided today to kind of tell me how interested he was in me, in an email. Why go through with that? I know it wasn't spontaneous; it can't be because it just fell out of your mouth. You thought it, typed it, and then pressed send.
For some reason, I just really don't want to have your premature emotions e-mailed to me after a few dates. Maybe some would find that charming or cute or even honest, but to me it makes me think that this person is worthless. Whatever happened to playing a *little*hard to get, or at least not making yourself SO attainable that it seems like you'd just fall for anyone? I guess that's my problem with these guys who are so completely available. I kind of want to win a guy over and not just feel like he would fall in love with just about anyone.
Am I so Groucho Marx?...
"I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member..."
I came home from my date and thought about Love Affair as I fell asleep. I've come to the conclusion that I've been thinking about him so much just because we never had the chance to let it all play out. That, and he symbolizes everything I left behind in San Francisco.
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THIS IS THE HARD PART:
"For some reason, I just really don't want to have your premature emotions e-mailed to me after a few dates. Maybe some would find that charming or cute or even honest, but to me it makes me think that this person is worthless. Whatever happened to playing a *little*hard to get, or at least not making yourself SO attainable that it seems like you'd just fall for anyone? I guess that's my problem with these guys who are so completely available. I kind of want to win a guy over and not just feel like he would fall in love with just about anyone."
We have to tread lightly, but not so lightly so as not to be noticed. We have to be interested, but not too much, because of what you just described. Speaking as a young man, it's a delicate balance I usually break immediately. Dating to me is confusing because I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, but at the beginning, all signs point to being guarded with your feelings and not being totally honest. As someone who hates to feel disingenuous or dishonest, maybe we should just shut up and not talk about it? But you're right, no one wants somebody completely available... except me.
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