My Mumbling Thoughts

I went on my blind date this past Saturday with Lora and Mel. I know what you're thinking; "It's not much of a blind date, Sam, if you go with your sister and best gal pal." But it was a date, I promise.

Here, I should back up a little bit so you get the whole bit.

Friday was the actual day that I was supposed to go out and meet Robin during happy hour, but since I had to take Mel home and I wasn't even technically invited to go to this particular happy hour, I really wasn't in the greatest mood to begin with. Mostly I just wanted to go home, get in my jammies and then spend the rest of the afternoon in bed watching Vh1. Sad, but true.

As I was laying in bed, my cell phone began to ring. Lora's name popped up on the caller ID and I figured she was calling to tell me how lame happy hour was because of all the losers that were there and she was extremely bored because I wasn't there. I was halfway right.

It wasn't Lora's voice on the other end when I answered. It was Robin, who apparently didn't know either that Lora had called me. She had simply dialed my number and handed the phone to him saying, "here, talk."

We did talk briefly and he asked when was the next time I'd be going out with Lora and perhaps we could hang out then. So of course I had to tell him that we'd be hanging out the next day when we would be doing some serious hardcore shopping at Tyson's Corner and the Galleria. He could come if he wanted, but we were going to all girl stores, except for the Apple store. The "girl stores" part didn't really excite him, but then I could hear Lora in the background talking about lunch. At the Olive Garden. Before we go shopping. He could meet us there.

After that it was pretty much final. If I dug him, then maybe we could extend the day into a shopping date, but if not then a little shopping therapy afterwards would be perfect.

Fast forward to the next day around lunch time. The three of us girls were hanging out at our usual table in the smoking section at the Olive Garden, talking about our "code words" we would use if I thought he was cute, annoying or alright. He was running a little late, but it was fine. We were sitting comfortably sipping our peach tea and eating every last bread stick that they were giving us.

Eventually he did arrive though and we ordered our food.

We made small talk which grew into a conversation which then turned into story telling and only had one or two minor silences. It was nice. Easy going.

There definitely weren't any shooting stars in my eyes though. Right off the bat I got the "friend vibe" and doubted that we would/could be anything more. I'm sure that doesn't really sound fair considering I barely know the guy, but it's true. I don't know about other women, but I know for me, I can tell almost immediatey whether or not I can have a romantic relationship with a guy. That doesn't mean I don't like them, it just means I wouldn't want anything more then friendship.

He was sweet. Almost too sweet. He was also extremely nice and made me feel like he could be a really good influence. Not just with me, but with anyone. He also seemed like one of those people I could randomly call up and say, "hey, lets go to Croatia" and he'd say yes without hesitation or asking why. That is a beautiful quality to have.

The thing that really put me off though was his goal with children. I'm not sure if any of you know this, but I'm not a big fan of children. Really. I think some kind of Mother Gene is missing from me because I don't like them. Okay, some of them are really cute, make gurgling baby noises and are the most precious things on the planet, but when I think of babies (preferably my hypothetical babies) I begin to freak out and become all jittery.

Maybe it's because I'm so young, but even if I look ahead in the future ten years, I still don't like the idea of me with two chaps swinging off of my hips, crying and screaming for cookies. It's not appealing.

Now, you take my fear of procreating with Robin's Children Goal.

He wants to start a new family tradition and have six in six.

That's six kids in six years.

Did you get that? SIX. KIDS. IN. SIX. FUCKING. YEARS.

Conflict.

So, considering I see myself with zero kids in six years, I thought that we would probably be better off as friends. Travelling comrads. It's for the best in the long run.

At the end of lunch, we parted ways but said that we should definitely get together again to hang out. And we should. He's awesome company and I love his positive energy. We just won't be having kids on the side in our spare time, which is perfectly fine with me.