Showing posts with label date local. Show all posts
Showing posts with label date local. Show all posts

Sunday, September 5, 2010

Date Local

So, I can't really throw stones at Eyebrow Guy (see last post) as Friday night I had a stellar line of my own: "How old are you?" Yes, Lola in Ireland thought that this line was the perfect way to meet hot, young Dubliners.

Although this line didn't particularly "work," I did meet a young, Irish man that night. At the bar, he used some line about my American accent, and that was that...I was his for the night.

For about 1.5 to 2 hours we made out on the dance floor, chatting periodically. To be honest, it was rather filthy. I'm surprised we didn't get arrested for public indecency. Something I noted about Irish bars was the excess of PDA. People making out everywhere! Granted, there are clubs and pubs in American where this happens, but I tend not to frequent those establishments (maybe I should?). However, it does seem that most pubs in Dublin lend themselves to this type of, um, overt sexual behavior. Not a criticism. Merely, an observation.

Irish Bloke asks me on a date for the following night. I decline, as I will be going to a birthday party at a pub and--though I don't know it yet--I will be making out with Colin Farrell (see previous post). We decide to go to out on Monday.

And it is lovely. As it is my last day in Dublin, I pick what we do. In a surge of romanticism, I ask him to take me to the former jail, Kilmainham Gaol. Despite the fact we are touring a jail, somehow, Irish Bloke makes it a wee bit romantic. After the jail, we walk and talk in the rain, grab lunch, and scope out some professional photography. The conversation is easy. I am ridiculously happy. At the end of the day, he has not-so-sneakily steered me to St. Stephen's Park, where we make out like teenagers. Once again, I am concerned we will be arrested for public indecency. Irish Bloke reassures me that "it is just a park" and no one cares. I walk him to his car, and we say a sad forever farewell.

It was the best date I've been on in a long, long time. Clearly, it was enhanced by the fact that I was on vacation, leaving, and we didn't know each other long enough to piss each other off. All of this seems ideal. The sad part is that I actually liked him. But, as Alejandro and Slate point out: long distance romances are not good for the environment. Date local.

We write. It is still lovely.