I wore heels for this?!?!?!

I have a pair of fabulous high heels. They are purple and sparkly with high, thin heels. They make me feel like a rock star when I wear them, though my ankles tend to feel slightly weak and sore a day or two after I wear them. Last night I pulled them out of the closet for a date that I thought looked promising. It was not.

*Not my actual foot.

It's not that it was a horrible date. We went to dinner at Brewzii and caught Michael McDonald at the Improv for free. The format of the date was sound. However, when someone of the opposite sex admits (halfway through the date) that they could have lined up an out phone call with a friend, it kind of puts a damper on things. When they further admit that they experimented with every drug out there and ended up in Florida to go to rehab, that's an even bigger red flag. And when, after 3 and a half hours of conversation and 2 hilarious stand-ups, your date says the highlight of his evening was watching the manager of the Improv chase a guy who walked out on his bill, you pretty much know you've seen the last of this particular gentleman.

After a goodbye that consisted of "See ya" as he pulled out his cell phone and walked away, I wandered in the direction of my car, thinking to myself that I was leaving yet another bomb of a date, about to pay $9 for parking, walking in the painful yet hot shoes that I had chosen to go with a lavender silk shirt and jeans for this particular debacle. I decided I was not going to slink home with my tail between my aching legs, and made my way to the gelato shop at City Place. The adorable 18 year old boy working the counter scooped me some double chocolate gelato and as I paid in cash, he said,"We always appreciate singles at this hour." I said, "It's that obvious that I'm single and just had a bad date?" Confused, the young man handed me my change and said, "I meant the dollar bills." I grabbed the chocolatey goodness and ran. My sore tootsies directed me towards Barnes and Noble, where I grabbed Tina Fey's new book, thinking that my dating woes would help me be more inspired in my professional life.

As I checked out and wandered towards my car, I realized that this was all I needed. A good book, chocolate anything, and good friends to text when my evening didn't go as planned. I'm sure there is someone out there for me. Maybe not on PlentyOfCreeps.com. As my best friend said, it may be time for me to take a break so that Mr. Right can fall into my lap. I'll have to move Bossypants, the show that I'm producing, the web comic I'm writing, and a whole host of other things out of the way to make room for him.

Romantic Comedy...or my life?

My faith in humanity and men in general has been redeemed fully, and it's all because of a British man named Dave. I don't even know his last name.

I was supposed to go to dinner after a high school production of Hairspray with my friends, Maria and David. This quiet British gentleman had been quietly pursuing me via international texting after our profiles connected us on Plentyoffish.com. The evening before I had been painting at a BYOB art studio with my wonderful, amazing girlfriends, and could not meet up with him. I received a text query about meeting up on Sunday evening, and I was sweaty, broken out, and inappropriately attired. I was about to turn him down when a thought occurred to me. I am always so ready to go out and try new things when it comes to my friends, but what about my life and the potential Mr. Right that this lovely man could be? So, I looked at Maria in my passenger seat and said, "I'll drop you off. I'm going to meet him."

I texted that I would meet him in 45 minutes at CityPlace, where I had just had a non-alcoholic beverage with Maria and our friend Susan. I ran into my house, apologized to my parents for being gone all day and making even more plans to be away from my dirty room and piles of laundry, and tore through getting ready. I put on a lacy, girly dress with cowboy boots and chunky pink jewelry, and raced to CityPlace. I told him to meet me at the fountain.

There are 5 fountains at CityPlace.

He texted that he was at the one by the theater. I ran to Muvico, and there was no one there. Worried he had fled upon seeing me arrive, I lingered, until EPIPHANY! The Harriet Himmel Theater has a fountain in front of it. Feeling as if I was in a movie, I ran down the stairs, crossed the street...and there he was, illuminated by the twinkling lights and cascading water. He's about my height, handsome and put together, and the accent...the accent was lovely. As I approached he smiled at me and said, "You look absolutely stunning." Melt.

We proceeded to Brewzzi for dinner, and had a conversation ranging from performing arts, emotional concert reactions (my Bryan Adams sobbing came up), and religion. We had so many things in common it was startling. He studied theater and dance as a child and went into producing music for a while. His dog's name is Cassie...the main character from my graphic novel is named Cassie. He was respectful and excited about every word that was coming out of my mouth, and I was hanging on every sentence, laughing at all his jokes. We talked and chatted, and decided we did not want the night to end there. We walked and stopped by my car. I played a fun game of "Which car is mine?" where he proceeded to freak out that I owned a Mini Cooper. I dropped off my leftovers from dinner, and we walked from CityPlace down to Clematis under twinkly lights and tree limbs. We stopped at the corner of Clematis and Rosemary, and sat at a fountain with a giant globe sculpture, and just talked for an hour. He then walked me to my car and as we were exchanging pleasantries and saying goodbye, he gave me a peck on the lips in farewell. I gave him a hug, and he grabbed my face and kissed me again. And again. It was sweet, romantic and amazing. As he began to walk towards his car, he turned and said, "Thank you so very much for the lovely evening."

This morning I woke up to a text message. "Good morning, Lauren. Thank you again for a lovely evening. X."

Too bad he's going to Dusseldorf for 3 weeks. But it was, to quote my new favorite Brit, a lovely evening. Just lovely.*

*As an update for this post: The Englishman has been sent by work back to his native land, and will not return for at least a month, at which point he will pack his belongings and go back to the UK. At least we had a wonderful time together, and I now have an e-mail pen pal.