You call this what?

About a week ago at work, I was listening in on a coworkers conversation. I know no one there yet, and have no life of my own to speak of, so I sickly live vicariously through those around me that don't know I am doing it. It's my own twisted version of Sex in the City suburban style.

She was talking about the evening before. I was shocked to find out, she was talking about a first date with a gentleman. They had met at a coffee shop and then went to a movie. She got there first, bought a coffee than sat down to wait. About ten minutes past when the gentlemen was supposed to arrive, a text went off in her hand telling her he was running late, and could she buy him a latte for when he got there. So she did, telling her friend with a smile of contentment as if instead of buying him a coffee since he was late, he had told her he was late because he had just saved a group of kittens being thrown into a trash compactor by his neighbors evil son.
So after their coffee, the gentleman, instead of taking her to the afore mentioned movie, asks if she would like to go back to his place. Once again she says this with a look of sick adoration that can only be described as hopeful oblivion. More to my own shock, she went. Huh? Okay well anyways, they go back to his place, apparently they fool around some, and she goes home.

Wait...did I miss something. Where is the date in this date? Best part of all, they met through a mutual friend and when he asked her out...it was over text messaging. Does anyone besides me see the wrongness of this picture? Is this really how dating goes now a days? This can't be it. Did I really leave a very bad marriage for very bad dating?

Okay, so the other night, as an experiment, I went on my first date after the divorce. Don't get me wrong, I have no intention of dragging some pour sap into the conundrum of my own melodramatic divorce saga, but I really had an itch and I had to scratch it. Fortunately I scratched it with someone I was only mildly attracted to and had no actually interest in knowing past a few unsatisfying hours of bad flirting and cheap wine.

See I had to know what it was like to go out on a date after 4 some plus years of not being on the market. I had to know if things had changed, if it was done differently. Oh Nelly, was I in for a big surprise.

Okay so this one didn't start out as bad. He did ask me out over the phone. But here's a question for you...does "Hey my roommate is going to be out of town for the weekend, want to come over?" actually qualify as a date? Ugh! I have been out of the game too long! Okay so I give him the benefit of the doubt. He offers to buy dinner and rent the movie himself, so hey, at least he has buying a meal on the schmuck who took my coworker out, granted it was Pizza Hut. So I show up, fashionable late of course. He takes my coat, asks if I would like a glass of wine. Wow, not bad, this might not turn out so bad, I think to myself. Really though, the first sign should have been, when he took my coat, he felt the need unbutton it himself.

So I take the wine, and sit down on the couch. We're talking as he pours some for himself, about the weather, what movie we want to watch and when to order the pizza. Things seem to be fine. Finally we pick a movie, and he sits down next to me. The movie starts and everything is going okay...wait, did I just feel something on my ass? No, couldn't have been. Brush it off. Movies funny, and the wine is going to down smooth, so he asks if I would like another glass. Sure, not much though, have to drive you know (and also do not have any desire to be even slightly intoxicated with you since I am pretty sure you grabbed my ass but I can't prove it). Comes sits back down, wait again...you weren't sitting this close before, and by this close now I mean, I didn't know that drinking wine with you meant we had to share a liver. Ever heard of the personal bubble buddy? "Um, I have to use the bathroom..." Otherwise know as "I need to get away from you since you seem to be breathing down my neck right now and maybe you will get the hint to move away you big moron." Come back, sit back down FARTHER AWAY. Start watching the movie, and damn that Chris Rock, I was too distracted to see 'my date' sneak up on my again! Good heavens, do I have a sign on me that says "Please I want to sit on your lap?" Then in a surprising move of gall and agility, his arm finds it way round me and the next thing I know I am tucked so close into his body I need the jaws of life and a tub of butter to get me out. His arm firmly clamped around my waist, the seconds tick off as I try to figure out how to get out of this one since I left the mace in my purse across the room. Note to self: keep small pocket size mace can available on first dates.

The doorbell!!!! Pizza! Thank God! I have never been so happy to see a pizza boy in my life. We start to eat, and thankfully there is some space between us. Then in the greatest feat of human ballsiness I have ever seen, when the man takes my plate into the kitchen he literally traps me with his arms and plants his lips on mine (I hesitate to call it a kiss since the term usually includes the mutual agreement of said act). Arms on both sides of me, as he stands and I am sitting trapped between him, a large red wall and a couch that would have made Al Bundy proud I can think of nothing besides the sheer shock factor. And I am not just talking a peck on the mouth, I am talking I didn't have time to close my mouth and he definitely used that to his advantage. No joke, I was mouth raped. About twenty-two seconds later (since that is how long it took me to get my coat and purse), I was out the door.

All I have to say is, things have definitely changed. Since when did the purchase of a cheap bottle of wine, even cheaper pizza and the acceptance of these items all of the sudden equal the invitation of bodily contact that would have made a porn star blush and an assault on the mouth that I think bruised my gums? Wow, I feel old.