No. I Cannot Grab You a Beer While I'm Up.

I went out on a date with GPG last Tuesday, because he was leaving the next day for a week's vacation.  Initially, I didn't want to go because I didn't want him to think that I was the kind of girl who was available to go out on a Tuesday with very little notice.  I asked my friend and she said that if he was trying to hang out with me on the one night he was in town before he left town again, it was a good sign.  She told me not to make everything into a moral dilemma and to just go have fun.  But making everything into a moral dilemma so that I can feel superior to others is fun.  But only the former involves wearing high heels.  Oh yeah, the heels.

GPG texted me to make sure that I wore a skirt and heels.  I was a little relieved because at least that meant I wouldn't be sitting around on the couch with him while he tried to save his energy for traveling.  I was kind of impressed that he was making the effort to go out on a weeknight.  I spent a lot of time getting ready and decided that his effort was worthy of the coral Gucci heels and my Irresistible Sundress (it has never failed me). 

What followed was out of every woman's worst nightmare.  Yes, it was THAT cliche. 

I go to knock on his door and can see him sitting on his couch.  I can also see that the door is open, but I still knock and wait for him to come open the door.  The way polite people do.  He tells me that it's open.  "I can see that," I want to say, but refrain.  I enter.  He is lying on the couch, drinking a beer in his shorts, watching football!

OMG I HATE FOOTBALL SEASON

I see that he is also hooked up to some muscle shocking machine (pulled groin, indeed), which he explains is the reason why he couldn't get up to let me in.  He pats the empty spot next to him on the couch.  I flounce over and plop down.  My boobs almost pop out of my Irresistible Sundress.  He tells me I smell like candy.  I'm not sure if he's talking about my new Dove Pomegranate deoderant (good stuff!), my Missoni Acqua perfume (discontinued!), or my Frederick Fekkai  shampoo(lifesaver!).  I think it was probably my deoderant.   I can see him trying to look down the front of my Irresistible Sundress, so I get up. 

"While you're up, can you grab me a beer?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, I'm hooked up to this machine and I can't move."
"Did you just ask me to fetch you a beer?"
"Haha, come sit back down and I will be finished in two minutes and then I will get up and make you a drink.  Does that sound better?"
"Yes..We're going out right?"
"No way!  I'm exhausted. It's Tuesday! Why would you think we're going out?"
"Because you said to wear heels and a dress!  Why would you say that if we were staying in???"
"Because I'm a pervert?"

Well, this wasn't exactly how I envisioned my night unfolding.  But, to GPG's credit, he got up and made me a drink.  (He is good about remembering how I like my drinks and coffee. Except that 90% of girls order vodka sodas and not too much cream in their coffee.)  I noticed that he was sticking to beer, so I knew that meant he was planning on putting forth more effort during sexy times.  This made me happy. 

The "restaurant" that he picked did not.  Actually it wasn't that bad; he just lives in a not-so-nice part of San Diego.  And I always like to go out of my way to pretend that I'm scared every time we go out in his neighborhood so that he will avoid taking me to gross places in the future.  But we had a fun time and he makes a point of telling me how much we have in common.  That is a tactic for suckers and people who believe in psychics.  I will not fall for commonality banalities.  He says he thinks it's funny when I call him on his shit, like the beer fetch attempt.  I express how sad it is that my Gucci heels had to step in this icky establishment.  He laughs.  We make it home without being mugged.  Although I did mention the possibility several times.

He tries to pull out all the stops during sexy times.  I appreciate the effort.  I still sleep on the couch.  Sleeping on the couch really sucks because the blanket only covers one half of my body, so I have to alternate covering body halves every hour.  (Tonight he admitted to giving me a small blanket so that I'd get cold and come back to bed.  This is cute.  I think?)  I decide not to be polite the next morning and bolt when it's convenient for me.  This works for both of us.

And being bitchy is working for me.  But I think it's really just because I'm being myself.  I will admit that I almost got him that beer because it was the nice thing to do.  So glad I resisted the urge!  But just in case that book is working some kind of voodoo marriage magic, I brought up the two subjects you are to NEVER bring up:  ring shopping and marriage.  I mentioned how my roomie had decided to get engaged and how she and her long distance boyfriend skype about what kind of rings he should buy her.  The whole conversation made GPG very uncomfortable.  Good.

I'm tired.  I will update later.