I took a month, and I sat back. I just let things happen. Broker did end up asking me out on a third date, and I had nothing really holding me back, but no real reason to go either, so I said no. It was for the best, really. I mean, he's great, but I'm just not excited about him.
And then my computer died. Work was so busy in the month of June and then I started a summer course, so I still haven't had an opportunity to get it fixed. (Case in point: I just broke into my sister's house and am using her computer to type out this blog). There were a couple guys that I was talking to, but having no computer made it extremely difficult to be a reliable communicator, and they all ended up losing interest; including The Comedian, I'm pretty sure. Haven't heard from him in a couple weeks.
But one exciting thing did happen in the past month: Gilbert has come home. It took him a few weeks to contact me after settling back into his Toronto life, but he eventually came through, and we planned a date. For this evening. We just said goodbye.
Now before I tell you about the date, I must remind you of how Gilbert and I began talking in the first place. He sent me a message, latching on to the whole cemetery thing (I've mentioned that I say in my profile how much I love a certain cemetery in town, right? Well, I do, and guys always seem to gravitate towards that as a point of conversation). This message, the very first time I ever heard from him, said that he lives very close to the cemetery, but that he's never been and he thought we should go for a walk. Our conversation sprung from there, revealing the fact that he couldn't actually go for the walk yet because he was in the Czech Republic, yada yada yada... So every conversation we've ever had about meeting each other has been just as much about the cemetery as the meeting itself.
Next important piece of information: Gilbert works long hours. He often doesn't get home until around 7 or 8 PM. That means that the earliest we could plan to get together was 8:30 PM. Yes, that's right - we planned a walk through a cemetery at 8:30 PM.
If you're wondering if I have loving, supportive and protective friends who take care of me, the answer is yes. As soon as they heard about the date, they became rather concerned. I was given specific instructions regarding how light it needed to be to be able to remain in the cemetery, as well as a lesson on street lights and how they are a good indication of how late is too late. They also suggested I bring a rape whistle in my purse... ridiculous...
So this afternoon, as I was getting ready for my date, I started to panic. I've spent so long building Gilbert up in my head, I was almost afraid to meet him. I took about an hour figuring out what to wear (my first date outfit was no good as it's no longer winter and the green shirt is long-sleeved. For the record, the second date outfit will need to be re-thought as well. So much work...) I settled on black flip flops, a cute skirt with a maroon print, a ruffly, sleeveless black shirt and curly hair. Silver hoop earrings and Celtic cross necklace. (I should also say that I scoured my apartment for the whistle I'd been given back when I was an orientation leader in University. That's right, my rape whistle. I found it and put it in my purse. Better safe than sorry, right? Right. Guess my friends weren't so ridiculous after all. Or, at least, if they are, I am too.) I still wasn't sure about the outfit as I left the house, until a guy came out of a store right in front of me and made up a song on the spot about how my name was "Cutie." Thank you, Store Man...
I suppose I should let you know at this point that my mind has been elsewhere lately. I met a real life man last weekend who's actually pretty wonderful. We were clearly both into each other, but he doesn't live in the city (or the province, for that matter), which complicates things. He has my number, email address, everything, but definitely hasn't contacted me yet. So I'm thinking about that.
Gilbert was late for our date. He texted at 8:33, saying that the bus hadn't shown up. He was actually pretty close by and I had driven my car, so I offered to come pick him up. His directions were, "Head down the street and you'll see me walking towards you, wearing your favourite colour." Amazing. As if he purposely took note of the silly comment I made one time about how my favourite colour was brown! Sure enough, I drove down the street and there he was, brown shirt and all.
We drove back to the cemetery, found a parking spot and headed out for our walk. By this time it was 8:45. I tried not to think about my friends and the looks of disappointment and apprehension I'd be receiving if they knew what was going on. I started walking at super speed (only slightly faster than my regular pace - for some reason I'm a very fast walker.) We walked around for a bit, and I could feel the sky growing darker and darker. As soon as I realized that it was bats circling our heads and not birds, I decided that we should head towards the exit.
The thing about cemeteries, apparently, is that they close at night. The exit was locked, the gates too high to climb. I panicked for only a moment, and then decided to try another exit. Even if this second exit was locked, I seemed to remember the gates being rather low. I was pretty confident I could climb them, even in that stupid skirt.
It took us a while to navigate our way through the cemetery in the growing darkness, but we enjoyed ourselves in the meantime. We found a willow tree and Gilbert suggested we swing from its branches. Done and done. We finally found the second gate, locked just as the first. I took my shoes off, threw them over the fence, and tried to climb as expertly as possible while still clinging to my skirt for modesty's sake. I made it over in one piece. Thank the good Lord.
With the night still young, Gilbert suggested we get some gelato. We grabbed the car and relocated.
He swings his arms a lot, kind of like a monkey or a second-grader, and he sometimes walks with his head down as though he's got something to be ashamed of. But he's got beautiful, rich brown eyes and he's a good height. For those of you from my hometown, he kind of looks like Eric, but skinnier. Oh, and he didn't remember all the time, but you could tell he was trying really hard to remember to be a gentleman. He made me walk on the inside once, rather awkwardly, and it was totally cute. And he always held the door.
He got Raspberry and Pomegranate/Blueberry gelato and I got Pomegranate/Blueberry and Lemon. Both in sugar cones. He asked if he could treat me. It was sweet.
Gelato in hand, we decided to stroll around the neighbourhood and look at houses. He likes to do that almost as much as I do, apparently. He even understood my sentiments about the majestic power of the Red Door. At least, he said he did...
We only got lost once, and it was only sort of lost. Disoriented, really. By 10:40 we had found our way back to my car. I drove him home and we said goodbye.
Ten minutes later I received a text:
"Thanks again for the wonderful evening. You're super cute and I really enjoyed your company!"
He actually said, "Your super cute," but I'm deciding not to hold that against him.
So that was my date with Gilbert. I think I had a pretty good time. I'm not smitten by any means, but this one seems like he's a pretty alright guy. I think, if he's willing, I'll see him again. And in the mean time, maybe I'll try not to sit by the phone and wait for a real life call from a real life man. Oh jeepers...
