The Guido

Before I even get started with this story… I first want to apologize to anyone that might be offended by my use of ‘Guido’. I think that stereotypical names and ideas are funny and not to be taken seriously. I mean no disrespect, and I have no hate towards anyone. And now, with that said…to the date!

I met the Guido (drum roll please) at a restaurant. Not at a bar or online… and it still didn’t work out! What the heck!

I went to an upscale seafood place in north Scottsdale with some friends. Seafood is not my cup of tea, especially upscale seafood, AKA expensive seafood. But I have to say it was a cute restaurant with an even cuter server, even if he did turn out to be The Guido. So I ordered the chicken and shut my mouth… about the location.

I may have accidentally flirted with this cute server. Maybe. My friend kept egging me on. He said he would pay for my meal if I wrote my phone number on the check. I chickened out. I had already blushed eight times from just making eye contact with the Guido. So I paid for my own meal.

When Guido was about to take my check, he said “did you write your number in there?”. In front of everyone. I was speechless! My friends jaw dropped, there was a second of silence, and I was blushing. The Guido is not lacking in the “balls” department. And I realized that I really just lost out on a free meal!

So, I gave him my number.

Now, when I met him, I was sitting down.  I apparently wasn’t aware that I was as tall as him, in fact taller, because I pretty much wear 4 inch heels at all times, especially on dates. Lets be honest, heels make you look thinner, and I will take any help I can get to look thinner, even if it means that I am almost six feet tall.  The good news was that I could rationalize buying a new pair of shoes. Truth be told, I really have a talent for rationalizing shoe purchases. I have cute little feet!  So, I bought a pair of flat boots, the ones that go over my jeans. These are now known as the Guido boots!

He called me, and asked me out. We went to a trendy restaurant in old town.  When I walked in, I realized that not only was I as tall as him, but actually a bit taller, even with my flat Guido boots. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with short men…I just happen to be a thick girl, so the chances of you being short and thicker than me as a man are slim…unless you are just really fat.  I bring enough meat to the table…but I also don’t want to crush anyone.

After our awkward hug, we sat down to eat. He was actually pretty funny. We had a good time! Even through all the “yada, yada, yada”s.

He is your typical Italian American guy that’s into cars and pasta. Hence, the Guido.(again, I apologize if I offend anyone). Although if you are an Italian guy…or any guy for that matter, I would like to thank you for reading this?

The date ended well. He asked me out again. I accepted.

Next date, same Guido boots, a car show, and a really horrible kiss later… I lost a little interest.  I know the first kiss is almost always a bit awkward, but eventually you can get into the swing of things. Not with the Guido. It was awkward and just bad.

Because I had a decent time with him, and because I was pretty desperate, I would have gone out with him again. Make him practice kissing his arm for a bit. But he got progressively more needy by the day. He would text, and if I didn’t respond immediately, he would ask if I lost interest.

So eventually, I did.

Ugh, Dating!