I know everyone is ready to chop off my head to hear about this date, so I guess I'll get it over with.

It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't so great. Here's the sad details:

I spent about two hours getting ready. I flatironed my hair, put on make-up, did my nails and went through a ridiculous oral cleansing routine (yes. I thought I might need it). I was wearing (because I know that some of you care) a purple knit shirt, satin cargo pants, rainbow socks and my new platform Sketchers sneakers. Frankly, I looked fucking good.

So I was totally prepared. I had my directions to his library, some "in case he doesn't decide to pick up the check money" that I bummed from Leah, my purse, my DVDs I had to return later and all my cold supplies. You see, I have a nasty ass cold, so I wanted to keep the hacking under control for this event. The main detail you need to know was that I was fucking excited.

I drive up to his library ten minutes early wait in the car for five and walk up to the door of this gigantic and beautiful library. I casually walk around, with my coat open and my scarf around my neck, looking for the guy.

Then, I spot him at his reference desk. In the sunlight, he was still VERY cute, but looked somewhat older than my original guess, which is fine. The problem, however was with what he was wearing. I was somewhat excited at first, to see that he was wearing a suit jacket. I got mildly nervous that I was underdressed, and then he turned. Oh man...I don't even know how to describe it. The shirt under the jacket was yellow. Yes. Yellow. And it said Tommy Hilfiger across the front. In red. He was wearing black cords and black shoes. The cords were nice, but that's mainly because the legs inside of them are phenomenal.

I walk up to the desk when I see that he has no patrons. "Hi," I say. "Oh, hi! You're early. I've got about five minutes," he said. "Oh OK, I'll look around," I said. So I did. I browsed this immaculate library's perfectly arranged bookshelves, just trying to be cool and relaxed. When I popped out of the stacks, he was looking for me. It all went very smooth on my end. He asked if I'd like to look around a little and I said yeah. He showed me a couple of things and asked if I had eaten yet. I told him that I had had some nachos that Leah had made. He suggested a little Greek place and I (being more agreeable than I have ever been in my life) said that sounded great.

So we made our way out the back to his car. It was a decent, non-descript car. On his passenger seat was a straw hat covering a tape recorder. This made me smile at it's mild weirdness, but then I remembered that he writes music, so I gave him some slack. He moved it and I sat down. We chatted a little on the short drive.

The restaurant was a small family owned, relatively inexpensive place. I wasn't expecting anything special so this was nice. We ordered our drinks and talked.

Here's where it starts to get a little odd. When I ordered, he ordered the same thing. Not because he liked the same thing, but obviously because it was less stressful to pick something out himself. Too bad for him it was a fucking chicken finger pita with no lettuce or tomato.

He tells me that lots of the staff and some of the patrons come here, and then proceeds to point out a decidedly insane looking patron. Unfortunately, the guy saw, and my guy just had to say hi. This turned into what I think my dude thought was a funny little bit. What it was was awkward. My dude was laughing the whole time this guy was talking. When he left he said, "I like how he didn't bother to ask if he was interrupting something." I felt like saying, "Because you fucking said HI to him!" But I didn't. I was like fucking butter the whole time.

As we talked over our pitas, I began to compile some observations about him. First of all, he was remarkably concerned with safety. Continually worried about me living in the ghetto. I would find out why later. He was also very nervous, but I'm not sure if that's just how he is normally, or only on this date. He was using space filling phrases a lot. It was getting kind of irritating.

Let me just say a couple of nice things to offset this obvious bitchy rant. His eyes...Amazing! Green and sparkly and nice. His body, also wondrous. When he got up to use "the John" I watched him walk away and the legs just made me want to swoon. Politeness was generally off the scale which is nice. He also picked up the check, allowing me later to get gas with the money that Leah lent me.

Now I will get to the end of the date. We got back in the car and he drove me to mine. We sat chatting for a couple of minutes, and then he literally announced that he was gonna "give me a little kiss". He did so on the cheek and then said that he didn't want to get sick. Ugh. Come on, dude. Just kiss me on the fucking cheek, that would have been nice.

The last irritating thing he did was give me a video of something (I'm trying to be vague in case he's a crazy internet stalker like I am). Now I have to see him again.

I did give him my email address so that I could hear the end of the "I would really like to read some of your writing" prodding. Suit yourself, dude. I'm anxious to see how he deals with my crapass poetry without being mean.

So all in all, not terrible, not great. It caused me to come home and want a drink (which I'm sure he'd frown upon). I'm gonna give him one more shot because of the fantastic time we had at the dance place.