Too Comfortable for Comfort

I suck at this game-- and it’s my own game. I went out with The Hunter for the fourth time. Four is way too many. I’m beginning to get comfortable. Not comfortable like I would burp in front of him, but comfortable like when I see something funny on TV or have my car die in the middle of a parking lot (I hate you, Pathfinder), one of my first thoughts is to text him and tell him. 

The problem is that once I get comfortable with one guy, it gives him a completely unfair advantage over the rest. I will be comparing each of the next nineteen dates to him without even being conscious of it. This “comfortable” thing is just a sneaky form of settling that I didn’t see coming. I don’t want to stop seeing him, and I can’t undo “comfortable”. I can’t be like “Oops, sorry. This really nice, relaxed thing we have going here is just not what I’m looking for. Will you take your flowers back?” 

I’m going to have to come up with some sort of solution for my inner turmoil. Maybe I’ll tell him I have multiple personality disorder to scare him away. At least it would be a guilt-free, clean break.

On the Chaco front, things are looking up. He looked up a few dance studios and emailed me their schedules. The only time that worked for both of us was Saturday evenings, which will seriously interfere with the overall goal of The Mission. But I love to dance. I love to dance like Nathaniel loves to dance (if you did not get that joke you need to youtube “Nathaniel loves to dance” immediately). So I’m going to spend four Saturday evenings learning to west coast swing with Chaco. I wonder if he’ll wear the sandals to dance class. That would be epic. I might step on his naked Chaco toes. Here’s another interesting factor: we have not touched... at all. I hope Chaco knows that you have to actually touch your dance partner. 

My date prospects are waning. I’ve been sick and have let a couple of emails and texts fall through. I’ve decided that today I’ll be a little more proactive and try to add a couple of new dates to the calendar. Tonight I’m going to sushi with The Archeologist. You remember, the one that used to look like Shawn from Boy Meets World? Sushi is a tricky date. The more I think about it the more I realize it’s a bad idea. If I eat as much sushi as I can, I risk scaring him. If I eat too little, I appear incapable. I’m hoping I decide I don’t like him. Then I can eat six orders of upside-down shrimp, get sauce all over my face, and not give a shit.