A night of restoring the faith...

Wednesday night Ninja Princess canceled our plans for the evening, leaving with a wide open schedule for the evening. That night I managed to fall into a house party, a Wednesday night house party.  Keeping in mind that I had to be up at 5:30am, I almost canceled several times before my ride arrived at 8:30pm.  There was one thing that kept me from throwing on my pajamas and snuggling into the sofa for a little quality time to myself. One very large thing. 


About three and a half weeks ago I met a man in a bar.  This man is a friend of a friend: extremely tall, entertaining, sweet with reddish blond hair and 100% Icelandic. Did I mention tall? Oh, yeah, I did...
He was still taller than me in my black kitten-heels the night I met him for the first time!  He bought me a drink that night, we went outside for fresh air several ties so we could hear each other talk (and make out a little).


At the end of the night, while we waited for my cab, I gave him my number and while we locked lips and talked about fishing (yes, fishing, I love fishing) in the chilly air he told me he wanted to see me again.  He called me a couple of times that week and we had several long conversations about books, television, Aboriginal rights, family...long conversations short, he turned out to be more intelligent than I had initially imagined, funny and extremely easy to talk to!


We made plans for getting together on that Friday night, but then his work scheduled changed and he couldn't make it into town to take me out (he lives about an hour or more north of the city). We rescheduled for a bite to eat on Sunday instead.  


Needless to say that never happened.  I didn't even get a call, and when I called him I was told his was sleeping every time (he had been working graveyard shifts, so it wasn't hard to believe).


To be honest I was a little pissed that I didn't get a phone call, not because I like him so much, but more so because I was left hanging for the evening, something I don't appreciate (and has happened to me a lot lately).  I sent him a message via FB saying that "maybe we shouldn't try to make dates. You don't seem like you have time for those types of things" and also letting him know that "a girl, especially this one, doesn't like to be left hanging."


Now, back to this past Wednesday while I was being encouraged to join this impromptu house party, I happened to notice on a mutual friends Facebook wall that he was also going to be there.  I figured "why not", I wanted to see him again and I know some of our mutual friends have been trying to encourage our coupling. I also figured that the reason I was invited to this event was due to the match making attempts of the people involved in our introduction.


That night I was greeted with even more surprises from the Icelandic Giant (yeah, that'll be his name...he doesn't have a steady enough profession to use my normal labeling method). 


It started out normal enough, exchanging glances and smiles across the table, laughing with friends and taking peeks out of the corner of our eyes at each other.  


The guys decided to play poker and when he split the pot at the end of the game, knowing that I had to cab it home, he gave me his winnings because he wasn't going to be able to drive me home.  I teased him about his lack of luck regarding that, making him pull the silly hat he was briefly sporting over his eyes in embarassment.


Later in the kitchen he grabbed me and we slow danced to a song that I no longer remember the name of. I do remember how romantic the gesture was, even in a smoky house filled with people, and how well we could dance together, as he twirled me and brought me back against him. 

He spent the evening apologizing for messing up our dates, told me how he had told his friend how he had f'd up the entire thing and hoped that I would give him another chance. I responded by looking him in the eyes, smiling and with all seriousness in my tone said: "You know how it's the third time and you're out....with me you get two times" and I held up two fingers.  He laughed but realized I was not kidding. 


As he walked me out the door to wait for my cab he complimented my sense of style and I thought to myself how perfect he had played the evening.  While we waited he pressed me up against the picket fence between the yards and we exchanged some heavy lip lock. He reached for second base and then quickly pulled back saying he didn't want to skip a step.  Restraint.  I find it both arousing and frustrating. 


It was a fun evening, and even though I got all of four and a half hours of sleep before I had to drag myself out of bed and onto my bike, it was totally worth the restoration of faith in the men of Manitoba. Just in time.