I made lasagna. It was pretty good. E came over just after 7. The roomie, S, and another friend (who was drunk from drinking the alcohol all day) were still there, but leaving to go to a party eventually. We drank some wine and ate some cheese. Dined on lasagna while S and drunkie were loud and hanging about. But then they left and we were able to go relax in the living room.
I ran to the bathroom and then he said he had to tell me something. Christ. Really? What? Arg! So scary. Then he said it was kind of weird and that a similar situation happened on Seinfeld… Umm… Ok… Heart is now beating uncomfortably rapidly. What is happening? Did he steal a mail truck? Is he in the midst of litigation with a coffee company? Are the library police after him? Then he told me. It was his birthday. Relief. I hadn’t remembered that episode (Jerry ends up on a first date with a woman who reveals it’s her birthday), but can see how he thought it would make me uncomfortable. He said that he had been out for drinks with his buddies the night before and they were maybe giving him a bit of a hard time about it. But that he really doesn’t do much birthday celebrating and he would rather have dinner with me than do anything else. Melt. Puddle on the floor. 
Then we watched a bit of a movie and chatted and laughed and made out a bit and generally had a lovely time. I was weird and awkward. He was gracious and normal. For the most part. Maybe he’s really super-weird and I just don’t notice because I’m busy trying to be normal. Hard to say.
No next date set up yet specifically. He has the kid this weekend, so I don’t necessarily expect that we’ll see each other. We were texting a bit last night, though, and might try to figure something out for Friday night?
Dating is a Disaster 