First dates are hard... second dates are something else...

Date 7, Guy 6 (my first second date- I was starting to get worried).
The bar was a fantastic mix of upscale old English pub and bordello- high backed seats in candle lit booths; velvet wall paper and strong drinks. Had it been a 3rd or 4th date I might have been tempted to lean in over the table and run my finger over the rim of my martini glass in an attempt at luring an unsuspecting gent into any number of naughty thoughts but as it was a 2nd date I decided to be modest.
Ok the truth is Mr. Burly is pretty darn funny and my martini glass seduction doesn’t go over particularly well when I’m snorting with laughter.
It was a good date. It was a second date.
It may even lead to a 3rd (knock on wood, don’t tempt the gods, praise be to Allah…)
There was one little thing though.
So in my head first kisses fall into two categories. The First is blissfully romantic- harts, flowers, city lights, violins- the kind that happen in Broadway musicals, the kind that happens with a crescendo of music and is followed quickly by the last few notes of a duet the kind that make a girl sigh and dance off stage with her skirts floating behind her. It’s a cross between Disney and the cover of a romance novel- Fabio strictly optional.
The second category of first kiss is dark and steamy- it’s a kiss so hot you can’t feel your face by the time it’s done. It’s a gasping for breath battle of teeth and tongues and clutching fingers. It’s the kind of kiss you have to jerk yourself away from only to go back for more. It leaves you raw and edgy and trembling.
Of course these are unrealistic- But I’m a romantic, I have certain expectations.
I turn to face Mr. Burly. He turns to face me…
I’m slightly tipsy, standing on the street in the middle of the Tenderloin at 2am. There is a very loud guy strung out at the corner screaming about karma to what I can only presume is a close personal friend of his on the other corner. She is a strikingly tall lady with a bit of facial hair.
There is a very awkward pause…
Not exactly Broadway but I can work with it.
He shrugs (yes he actually shrugged), leans in and kisses me.
Then we both step back and look at each other.
Huh…
“That was umm…awkward…”
“Well… yeah…”
I can tell he’s as confused as I am so we both decide to pretend it didn’t happen.
So much for second dates being less awkward than first…