Dating Me

As I stared at my reflection analyzing my fourth outfit change, I groaned in frustration. What the heck are you supposed to wear on a casual first date. I was facing the classic date wardrobe dilemma; I didn’t want to look like I tried too hard but I also was trying hard to impress my date. What did I know about my date? Well my date loved Star Wars and we were going to see the new Star Wars movie. The obvious choice was a Star Wars shirt. I had narrowed it down to my four favorite Star Wars shirts. (My excessive collection of Star Wars shirts might be a contributing factor to my single status.)

After spending far too much time taking on and off clothes, I decided on a pair of khakis, a classic Star Wars shirt with a TIE fighter, to show my bad side, and topped it with a denim button down to dress it up a bit. I looked in the mirror for a final assessment. I’d date me. Which is good, because that’s exactly who I was going on a date with. Yes, I was taking myself out on a date. I figured that the best way to find out more about what I do right and wrong on a date was to date me. I have heard a wide range of reviews about my date performance. And the only solid conclusion is that results may vary. Besides, I deserved a nice night out, and who better to treat me, than me.

The first thing I was noticing was that I was way more nervous to be my own date than I ever had been for other dates. I rarely spent this much time choosing an outfit. Why was I worrying so much about whether I’d impress me or not? At the end of the date—I had to come home with me, regardless of performance and I would definitely have to see me again. But here I was staring at myself in the mirror, worried about whether this was the right Star Wars shirt or if I should have chosen the blue sweatshirt instead. I checked my watch, it was time to go if I wanted to be on time. I wouldn’t make a very good impression if I was late.

We (Me, Myself, and I) arrived at the movie theater on time and headed to the correct theater after picking up my ticket. This was one of those movie theaters you get an assigned seat and they bring you food and drinks while you watch the movie. I knew myself so well! What a perfect date! Dinner and a movie, all in one. Once in the theater I found my seat. It was easy to find, as it was the middle seat between…two families…grrrreeeeaattttt. I scooted my way down the row of seats to mine and sat down, making polite-yet-uncomfortable smiles at both strangers seated next to me.

Now the big question was: what to order. What was good date food? Nothing too garlicy—didn’t want to have to deal with my garlic breath later. Nothing too messy—don’t want to spill things down my front, that’d be embarrassing. As for what to drink, nothing too boozy—I do have to make sure I can drive me safely home at the end of the night. In the end I ordered a pizza, a pretzel, warm chocolate chip cookies, and a beer…two beers. Perfect date food for when you are on a date with yourself in a dark movie theater where no one can judge your choices.

As for Rogue One? (Spoiler Alert) It was great. Go see it. Do yourself a favor and take yourself on a date to Rogue One. Even if I had been a crummy date, the date would have still been awesome because of the movie. I gave myself points for the movie selection. I also awarded points to me for the t-shirt selection, the food & drink choices, and ten points for not being one of those annoying movie-goers who talk and ask questions throughout the entire film. All in all, I was doing pretty damn good at impressing me. I had all the right moves.

Walking out of the theater, I realized I didn’t want the date to end quite yet. I was having a really good time and wanted the night to continue. I knew just the place to take me! I drove a few blocks and found a parking spot. I got out of my car and crossed the street, smiling while I took in the lights and falling snow. The park was lit up with Christmas lights and it had just begun to snow—I felt like I was in a romantic movie scene. I strolled through the park giddy to be in my company. I got my phone out to capture a selfie of this moment. As I looked past my phone I saw a guy drop to his knee. Was he hurt? A woman screamed. Was she hurt? Something was wrong. Then the knee guy got up and lifted the screaming girl and they were kissing. She jumped up and down as he pulled something shiny out of a box.

Are you kidding me?

A marriage proposal. At the end of my first date with myself. A nearby crowd applauded and congratulated the newly engaged (as in a few seconds ago) couple. I turned around and walked away to the other side of the park. Of course I end my date walking into a marriage proposal. That is my life. Moments ago I was catching myself falling in love with myself. The lights. The snow. Christmas time. It was all so romantical. I’d propose to me right now. I’d propose to get the eff out of this cold. It was freezing. I skipped (yes, you read that correctly) through the candy cane tunnel and took in the lights and falling snow one last time, before laughing and running to my car.

I drove myself home, smiling ear to ear. I’m a great date, for the record.

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