The Computer Wore Dancing Shoes

Dear Swing Enthusiast,

I’m in trouble.

I have agreed to go on a date with NORMAN NURMAN tomorrow!

Yes, this is the same Norman Nurman I revealed in my last letter as,”so-boring-I-keep-forgetting-to-tell-you-about-him.” He’s been hounding me for over a month to go to Dancing Under The Stars, an annual swing dancing festival extravaganza here in the city. He emailed, facebook messaged, called, and texted me in his quest for this date; it was a full artillery assault.

I’ve never been a big dater. I have always fallen for friends. Before last weekend, I had only been on two real let’s-see-if-we-hit-it-off dates in my life. The first was with a guy we’ll call GIDEON DICK. Charming, talented, and smart, Gideon Dick had it all and seemed to really dig me. Yes, I asked him out, but only because he was too shy to go for it himself. At dinner, Gideon went on and on and on and on about my many outstanding qualities, only to stamp on my ego and dub me a “Screwball” at then end of the evening. Apparently funny girls intimidate some guys…

However, Gideon Dick has nothing on IAGO DE THESPIAN. Shakespearean actor Iago de Thespian had been enamored on me for almost a year prior to our date. Finally, I convinced myself it could work. We were slated to go to a free classical play in the park. First, we had to wait in line for the tickets that morning, which went smoothly. Iago then ran off to the airport with his best friend, who was returning home to China on that very day. He ended up not calling me for dinner as planned and not showing up until the second act of the play that night! I took a good hard look at him upon his arrival, only to discover he was covered in hickeys he did not have that morning. The conversation then went something like this:

Me: Are those hickeys?

Iago de Thespian: (dramatically looking down in shame) Yes. They are.

Me: I see.

Iago de Thespian: You know what the worst part is?

Me: What?

Iago de Thespian: She missed her flight.

Me: You were at the airport for a long time; how long does it take to miss a flight?

Needless to say, I was offended. The careless pig actually tried to ask me out again at the end of the date. Six months later, Iago got drunk at a party with a bunch of my friends and cried about how he’d ruined his chances with me by “ending” one relationship on the same day that he tried to start one with me.

Sooooooo not my problem.

But, ladies and gentlemen, my luck seems to have changed. I recently went on a date for the first time in a long time, and actually had a lovely time. This guy (yes, guy) didn’t abandon me, marginalize me with belittling nicknames meant to give me the brush off, or suck face with some foreign girl in the middle of our date. (Have I accidentally found myself in a secret feudal war with Asian girls?) He even checked to make sure I made it home safety. In my book, this date is the first ever success story!

Of course, he doesn’t live in the same city as me and hasn’t contacted me since our date. (it’s been whole days, people!) So when Norman Nurman asked me out this week using every communication weapon in his arsenal, I felt I had no choice but to give the guy a chance. I mean, why is it always the ones that pay attention to you that you take for granted and the ones that barely notice you that make your heart skip a beat? When someone goes out of his way to show you he thinks you're special, it’s worth overlooking a few dweeby flaws, right?

You see, Norman Nurman is more like a robot than a person. Sweet? Yes. Good looking? Yes. (And Asian! Ooh-la-la!) Smart? Totally. Rich in personal intrigue? Hell no. He works with computers and volunteers at an animal shelter. The latter point is a very pleasing quality, but it doesn’t make up for the fact that my heart flat-lines whenever he’s near.

But maybe I’ve misjudged Mr. Nurman.

It turns out Dancing Under The Stars is exclusively Salsa on Friday night, so Norman asked if we could make alternative plans. I rather reluctantly agreed. He then sent me the following oh-so-sexy text message:

I will send you details in forthcoming correspondence.

Yesterday, I received that highly anticipated correspondence in the form of a text with the time and outdoor meeting location of our date. I then asked:

What’s on the itinerary or is it a mystery?

Norman Nurman: If I tell you, I’d have to, well you know…

Wow. Ding, ding! Maybe Norman Nurman has a few tricks up his sleeve. He then quickly followed with:

Oh hey, do you eat meat?

Enter my roommate, Parker, the Will to my Grace. Parker brilliantly proposed that I play into Norman’s little innuendo game, so I responded with a cheeky…

If I tell you, I’d have to, well you know…

Quickly followed by:

P.S. Yes, I eat meat.

Parker and I felt sure that whatever his response, it would be a sign of whether or not he could really handle a sweet but truly sassy woman like myself.

And his response was:

Good thing you’re cute Miss Smarty Pants! ;-)

Uh- fatal error. Disappointing at best. What does that even mean? Well, golly gee! I’m gonna gitcha, Miss Smarty Pants! Wow, Norman. I'm really shakin' in my boots.

Some might say my standards are too high. He’s just trying to be witty. …and failing. Suggestive banter is far from the key to my heart. I’m an outgoing girl. I am highly compatible with socially awkward introverts. I guess I’m just hoping for a feisty, passionate heart underneath the timid façade. I love a geek! I am a geek! But I guess I love it more when my beloved geek doesn't push to be something he or she is not. When you try to act so much cooler than you are, it usually rings false. Regardless, I have it on good authority that one thing can be said for Norman Nurman and his tame breed.

They’re tigers in the sack.

Wish me luck! I think I’m gonna need it…

Yours Truly,

Sara