Realizing that you found someone so special and so soon can send your mind for a tailspin. For someone like me, that doesn’t happen. For a guy like me, it doesn’t happen that fast. It’s almost impossible because I am a reigning “in your head” champion. Anything and everything that goes on in my life I am constantly doing pro and con lists in my head, worst case scenario’s, what if’s, etc. It’s to a point where I can get in my head about what to have for dinner.
Then I met her.
We decided that a good first date would be going to the State Fair. If you ever have the chance to go to your State Fair for a first date, do it. First, you are constantly moving. You always have something to look at to keep the conversation going. Secondly, oh the stuff to look at. The people. I can’t stress the people watching factor for a first date. So much material to make yourself that much more desirable. “Well, at least I don’t look like THAT guy, right?” Lastly, you’re not at dinner or at the movie not getting to know your date. Okay, sidenote: Too many first dates die in the middle of some rom-com simply because the guy thought it would be smart to invite Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams to the mix yet dumb enough to totally spend the first few hours with your date not talking. State Fair. Turkey legs and mullets. It works.
We walked around questioning our general likes and dislikes. Watched miniature pot-bellied pigs race. Looked around inside some sweet mobile homes. I’ve always wanted to act like I had found my dream home and act a fool inside one of them; making the seller all excited and whatnot. I didn’t think that was first date etiquette, so we just looked at all the laminated walls. Classy.
We of course looked at all the hot tubs and walked by the one exhibit of the lady that supposed to be like 2 foot tall. I saw it once before. It’s creepy. Trying to get your first date to go look at a 2 foot tall woman is hysterical.
Fun fact: corn dogs are just magically different at the fair. It’s probably the community mustard container. THAT mustard is the best mustard.
Mullet after mullet, braless boob after braless boob, the fair folk provided much appreciated laughter and eased the anxiety and anticipation of our first date.
It wasn’t until the drive home that I realized how I didn’t check in with my head the whole night. I was just me.
And this is just the beginning.