So, I survived the weekend. Both dates and all. And I have to say, that one in particular went quite well.
Friday night was fine. The guy was nice, but a little on the difficult side to talk to. We met at a pub for a beer and were there for about 2.5 hours. A nice little goodnight hug at the end and we were on our merry way.
But Saturday. Oh, Saturday. I'd been talking to this guy for almost 2 weeks, and I could tell that we likely would really hit it off. The date started at 4 with a friendly competition of mini golf (and by friendly I mean cut-throat, because there's no such thing as a friendly competition.) I lost though and that makes me sad, but I'll just say that my focus wasn't where it should have been.
Then we headed to dinner where we sat and talked until 9, which is about the time the waiter started rolling his eyes. So then we hit up Starbucks until they kicked us out at their 10PM closing time. THEN we headed to Penn State's campus, where there was a little overlook and sat there to talk (and alright, maybe there was a kiss or two) until 12:30. If you're doing the math, that's an 8.5 hour first date.
We texted that night, the following day and made plans for this week. But the kicker? Oh man. About 1:30 PM on Monday at work, I get a call from the front desk. "Heather, you have a package I'm pretty sure you're going to want." Which I literally thought nothing of, since I frequently get packages of non-fun items at work.
When I headed downstairs, I saw these beautiful flowers. Opened up the card, which said, "Because I know Mondays can be a drag, especially after the weekend we shared. Looking forward to more times with you."
I mean, really...amazing. I couldn't stop smiling. So maybe some first dates aren't THAT bad.