Fausto had gotten my attention by sending me a very thorough e-mail via a dating website. He made cute, funny comments about a few things I had mentioned and asked questions that delved further into my interests listed. He also shared with me a bit more about his likes and dislikes that expanded upon what I could’ve learned from his profile. From this initial email I could tell he was a very attentive person, which I guess comes with the territory of being a lawyer. We exchanged a few e-mails that weren’t too personal, but personal enough to allow me to feel completely comfortable that, yes, indeed he is a good person and no he is not after a wham bam get in my pants kind of date.

He was clever in giving me just enough information to pique further interest by writing cliff hangers like “I went to Ireland to learn the art of story telling, but it is better I tell you that story in person. Perhaps I can take you to dinner sometime?” Story telling in Ireland? How could I resist?!

When I agreed that I would be happy to go on a date, he responded immediately with links to three different restaurants he recommended.

I really, really, REALLY like when guys do this. When a guy takes the initiative to ask me on a date I always expect him to also plan it as well. When he plans it, but also makes it a point to ask for my opinion on which restaurant would I like to go to (or what movie, or what coffee house, etc…) out of a LIST he has compiled. I feel as if not only has he taken the time to actually make the date special, he is truly interested in making me happy.

To be clear, this is different than a guy asking to go on a date, not choosing a place and making me choose, everything. I can see how some guys would think this is a good idea, but on my end it’s a bit unnerving for a first date because I worry I might pick a place/event he hates. Also, it give me no insight into his tastes and makes me feel like he’s being lazy and insecure. Insecure because maybe he’s too afraid he might pick something I don’t like and he just wouldn’t be able to face it so he takes the easy way out.

He gave me the following list:

“This is my favorite sushi place: http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/sushi_yasuda

In Brooklyn, I love this Italian place:
http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/al-di-l/ “

I chose Blossom because it is the most convenient for me to get to after work. He made the reservations for 6:30. When I arrived at 6:30 on the dot, I was greeted by Fausto at the door (he had reserved a cozy window table and had seen me walking up the sidewalk before I even knew I was at the restaurant). He was wearing a suit and tie, held open the door for me and showed me to our table. A suit and tie! He had dressed up! A dinner reservation! A table by the window! With candles! I was charmed. Completely charmed. It seriously had been a stupid amount of time since I had been treated to a date like this.

After X amount of first dates where guys show up in jeans and t-shirts and take me to great pizza places they know of where we have to wipe the crumbs and sauce off the table before sitting down and look at each other under harsh fluorescent lighting, I had started to forget that as a full fledged adult (whatever that really means) it’s ok to want dates where you can encounter other full fledged adults instead of broke college kids and teenagers.

Conversation flowed effortlessly. Fausto is one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. He loves his family dearly. He is two years younger than me (and just a hair shorter-which is a fault since he had stated a height on his profile that would have put him about two inches TALLER than me) and already moving up on the rungs of the ladder at his law firm. He is extremely attentive and picks up on subtle details. He didn’t let me do all the talking, but did allow me to go off on a tangent about the things I’m passionate about- and he didn’t even mind that I was talking about some of the most boring things ever (not boring to me but easily boring to someone else). When I stopped myself to apologize (and to take a breath *gasp*) he responded:

‘I didn’t mind your rant at all! I find that when someone tells me about something they are passionate about, even if I have no experience in it or have never found an interest in the same thing, it becomes interesting. It’s nice to meet some one who is as driven as you.” I silently cheered to myself. “Yay! I can let my inner nerd come out!”

We shared the “Black-eyed Pea Cake” appetizer because we happened to both have chosen it as one of our top two choices. When our dinner plates arrived (he ordered “Feijoadinha with Smokey Tempeh” and I the “Port Wine Seitan”) he immediately offered me the first bite of his entrée and I returned the favor. This is another quality I really like in a guy- the ability to share as a reflex. He didn’t wait for me to stare longingly at his meal or to ask him how it was, or as a response to me offering him a taste of mine, before offering me a taste. It was almost reflexive and immediate that he offered me a taste before he even began eating it himself. Yes, this particular interaction of sharing food is a case by case deal. Sometimes, I really DON’T want to taste the other person’s food or even risk an exchange of germs. But there is always a polite way to say “no, thank you” if needed.

At one point I pulled a hair tie out of my purse and pulled my hair up into a sloppy bun to keep it from falling into my food while I ate. He was in the middle of telling me about why he had once gotten fired from Borders and mid sentence he paused to watch me pull my hair up.

“You look lovely with your hair up. Really lovely.” He blushed, smiled, shook his head and couldn’t seem to find where he had left off in his sentence.

“Thank you Fausto.” Not going to lie, one of my faults is taking compliments seriously. My gut reaction is to respond with something self-deprecating because there is a part of me that believes guys dish out compliments because somewhere along the line they have learned that it is a sure fire way to win a girl over. So they learn the lines and repeat them when necessary.

Fausto’s comment was different. He didn’t plan to say it. He said it as if the force of him thinking it caused the words to slip from his brain out into the open. He himself seemed a bit surprised and flustered at the sincerity of his words, even a bit embarrassed perhaps. The painfully shy lonely and awkward nerd he had been throughout high school and college (his description of his past self) was still a part of him and briefly showed as he struggled to get back on track with his words.

“I really appreciate the compliment.” I don’t know why, but I felt the need to let him know that it had been completely okay for him to compliment me. I wanted to tell him further that it is always, ALWAYS ok to tell a woman she is lovely even if it exposes that he might be genuinely attracted to her. I didn’t though because that would’ve made the moment awkward. Maybe I read too much into his mannerisms but I simply pictured him thinking he had sounded too eager and attached. Whatever it was that went through his head, he visibly relaxed after my comment.

We shared an apple cinnamon dessert (unfortunately desserts aren’t listed online so I can not share with you the exact name of this heavenly treat) and stayed at the table sipping hot tea and talking, and talking, and talking…

He paid for the whole dinner, even the tip which I offered to cover. While I am a bit “old-fashioned” and do not mind when a man pays for the whole date (I actually prefer it when he is the one who did the inviting and planning) I also realize that in this day in age, a few extra bucks can go a very long way. I always come prepared with enough cash to cover the whole tab (worst case scenario) and always, ALWAYS ask if we should split the bill. Whatever the answer is I never push the matter or insist otherwise. And no, I do not think poorly of the guys who say, “Sure, let’s split it”. It just is what it is.

We shared a cab to the subway (he covered that as well even though I already had my debit card out) and made plans to meet for a brunch sometime next year (because our schedules don’t mesh until after the holidays).

Yes, yes it was a perfect date. Except not. I KNOW!!! WHAT?!?!!? WHY?!?!? Believe me I’m slightly tortured by this as well. I mean c’mon! He was basically a perfect gentlemen. Smart, funny, attentive, charming, well-established career goals with a very steady job, genuinely nice, a happy disposition, we share so many similar interests in music and art and literature its uncanny! We could probably talk forever and not get bored with each other!

Ugh.

But on my end there was no chemistry. No spark. No physical interest. Man, that seems so shallow, but you and I both know that physical attraction is important to a relationship. It’s not the most important thing, but its got to be there. He only has two pictures on his dating profile and I couldn’t really, REALLY, tell if he was attractive or not. He was just a decent looking guy with a seemingly great personality.

In person his curly dirty blonde Irish hair, round cheeks, clear blue eyes, sweet smile, shorter than expected height (no, height isn’t that big of deal to me-I’ve dated guys I end up towering over when I’m in heels and as long as it doesn’t bother them it doesn’t bother me), and lean but kind of squishy body type were absolutely adorable. I just wasn’t attracted to him as a potential lover should be. In fact, I felt more like I had found a potential new best friend or surrogate little brother.

Fausto isn’t out of the running yet though. I am looking forward to our brunch next year. Perhaps he will grow on me?