Date 1: Crash and Burn

Let me start by stating that my dating philosophy is that if you throw enough shit aginst the wall, eventually something is going to stick.

I met D1 at a bar in Georgetown one night after a long day of apartment hunting. This was before I actually moved to DC, so I don't recall the name of the bar we were at. D1 was a summer intern, and was meeting her brother (I later confirmed it was her brother) for a drink after work. We chatted for a bit and I got her number before I left.

D1: D1 was extremely cute, about 5'7", with long blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. She was very thin, with a great butt, and a smallish chest. She was from one of the Carolina's (does it really matter), so she had a slight southern accent, which I love. She was smart, fairly quick witted, and bordered on overly sarcastic.

Fast forward 3 weeks to Saturday, the day before I move into my newly rented apartment. I texted D1 to see if she wants to get together that week for drinks or dinner. She agrees, but would like to do it Sunday. OK, fine, no problem, I can swing this. I had a 25' U-Haul filled with all my Earthly possessions and planned on arriving in DC around 1pm Sunday. I figured one hour to unpack, settle in a bit, shower, and we would be good to go for drinks by 8ish. I confirmed that I would pick her up Sunday around 8pm.

I am sure you can see where this is heading.

My drive took 4 hours longer, and cost $400 more than I expected (Drive:9 hours, Gas:$800). My building wouldn't lock off an elevator for me, so unpacking the truck turned into a two hour affair, made even more aggrivating by the fact that my dog learned how to get out of my apartment in all of 15 minutes. So, when I got to my floor with my second load of junk the dog was laying in the middle of the hallway...great start, the neighbors loved that. By the time the truck was unloaded it was 7:30 and I was wiped out.

I sent D1 a text seeing if she was still up for drinks? Reply: "yup, still at 8?". I said "Yes, looking forward to it." I took a quick shower, threw on some jeans, and scribbled her address on a piece of paper. I usually ride a motorcycle, so I took two helmets off my floor (where everything else I owned was arranged in huge mounds) and hopped on the bike.

I arrived at 6th and C Street NW (not real address) right at 8 and instantly knew I was in the wrong place. I was surrounded by office buildings, restaurants, and closed parking garages, nothing looked residential. I called and asked her to confirm her address. I received my "quadrant lesson" sitting on my bike downtown that evening, and I can tell you that it was very humiliating. With hat in hand I fired up the bike and raced to her address. When I was out front I called and sheepishly announced "I'm here". She said she would be right out. It was now 8:20 (I got lost in DC's web of one-way streets and Capitol Police barricades).

While I waited I figured my Magellen-like navigations skills would at least give us something to talk about. A few minutes passed and my phone rang "Where are you?", she asked. "Right out front." Nope, wrong quadrant again. I was in SE and she lived in NE. Back on the bike and headed for my third 6th and C Street of the night. I think D1 had already given up on me for the night because she was inside and let me stand in front of her (brother's) house for a solid five minutes before answering the door. She looked really hot, and I was glad I hadn't given up and gone hom eafter the second wrong quadrant like I wanted to. I was also lucky because I hadn't told her about the motorcycle, so she was a little surprised, and didn't break my balls about being almost an hour late. We hopped on and headed to Old Siam on Barrack's Row, her suggestion.

Dinner went fine and conversation was pretty easy. We talked about the usual BS, and had a good time. After dinner I drove her home and parked in front of her (brother's) place to let her off. I turned off the engine, but it turns out that wasn't going to be necessary. We took off our helmets and she handed me hers as we said good night. I leaned in for a kiss and saw a look I can only describe as pitty. She gave me a really weak kiss and said good night again.

The next day, my first at my new job, I sent her a text message saying I had a great time and that we should do it again, minus my solo tour of NW, SE and SW. I never heard from D1 again.

Months later, while standing on the sidewalk after an open house of a property I liked, I crossed the street and looked up. It took a second, but I began to laugh when I realized I was standing in front of D1's (brother's) house.