Awkward Moments in Dating: The First Move

(image via wikimedia)

When I was dating, making the first move was always difficult.  I wasn’t smooth or super attractive or wealthy or of high social status, so I had to work patiently to attract the women I was interested in.

I couldn’t just yawn and stretch my arm so that it rested on my date’s shoulder.  I had to be more subtle.  I’d lean in just a little to see if my date retreated or maintained her position or leaned in too.  I learned early to move slowly.  I had tried a smooth talker tactic when I was in high school, and it had backfired in front of a bunch of people.  Public humiliation is a great teacher.

I’ll write about that awkward moment sometime, but I’m not ready yet.

I wasn’t even going to try a first move with Jenny because the date had gone poorly.  She had chosen a restaurant that her ex-boyfriend managed.  The food made my nose runny.  I had made a joke that she misinterpreted.  She covered up her cleavage with a large sweater and had asked to go home early.  That was it, I thought.  I was disappointed, but at least there was no uncertainty.  Then when I had parked my car outside her apartment, she asked, “Do you want to come inside?”

“Sure,” I said.  Despite everything that had gone wrong earlier, I wasn’t stupid enough to say no. I thought maybe she just felt safer with a guy walking her up to her door, and I was a pretty safe guy.

We didn’t talk much as we walked to her apartment.  The apartment complex was surrounded by a bunch of other complexes spread out for several blocks.  It was meant for young professionals, but there were some large families stuffed in there too.  I lived in a similar complex, and it was an interesting mix of loud parties and loud family arguing.

“Do you like living around here?” I asked as we went into her apartment.

“I’d like something quieter,” she said, leading me inside.  She had already shown me around a few hours earlier, so I was familiar with the layout. “I’m thinking about getting a house.”

A single person buying his/her own house?  I hadn’t even thought about that.  I could buy my own house, I thought, instead of wasting money on an apartment.  Why didn’t I think of things like that?

“Pick something to watch,” she said as she walked into the short hallway to her bedroom.  “I’ll be right out.”

I flipped through the television channels.  I avoided music stations (back then, music channels played music) because she liked country and I liked everything except country.  I found a baseball playoff game and thought it might be a good choice.  We’d met at a football watch party in a bar, after all.  I didn’t want to be presumptuous by sitting on her couch, so I picked her small recliner.

Her apartment was well furnished.  Mine still looked like I was a college student, with old furniture and too many random books all over the place.  My own apartment smelled like an antique store and was probably a fire hazard.   If I’d had a house, I’d have more space to put the books.

Jenny came out in a white t-shirt with a local bar’s logo and tight shorts.  From my perspective, that was better than the baggy sweater and jeans.  And she smelled good too.  As soon as she entered the living room, I’d caught the scent, whatever it was.

“Why are you sitting there?” she said as she took the middle position of her couch.

“This is a comfortable recliner,” I said.  I didn’t want to seem too eager.

“This is a comfortable couch,” she said.

“You don’t mind sharing the couch?” I said.

“That’s the point of having a couch.”

I liked her logic, so I sat next to her, placing my right elbow on the armrest but leaving my left arm to my side.  I wasn’t going for the shoulder move yet, but I liked my chances.

She scooted closer to me so that our sides touched.  “Do you care who wins?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.  Then I remembered the baseball game on television.  “No!  I mean, I don’t care about the game but I like baseball, but we can change it if you want.”

“I like baseball, but it’s boring,” she said.

She leaned away from me and slid her legs onto my lap so that tips of her socks touched the armrest.  There was no place to put my left arm/hand without something touching her bare leg.  As far as first moves went, this one wasn’t subtle.

“You look comfortable,” I said.  “You about to take a nap?”

“There are a couple ways to keep me awake.”

That freaked me out a little bit.  I wasn’t expecting things to move this quickly.  I was relieved that I didn’t have to make that risky first move, but I felt like we were skipping a few steps in the process.  I believed in steps.  There was a reason steps existed, even if she was attractive with great cleavage and her legs draped on my lap.

I never planned for things to get intense on a first date.  It can happen, but I didn’t plan on it.  Women I dated weren’t the type to get intense on a first date.  I think the earliest for me had been a third date, and even that had been too early (once I looked back upon it).  I mean, I didn’t think a couple had to get married first, but there should be some trust established first.  As much as I was fascinated by Jenny’s cleavage, I wasn’t sure I trusted her yet.

And that meant I was about to do something really awkward.

*****

To be continued in Awkward Moments in Dating: The Bailout!

And can start reading Awkward Moments in Dating right here.