Our conversation had lagged, but it picked up in regard to Wonder Woman. Those who know me in real life know that I am just a tad bit in love with Wonder Woman, so this was an excellent way to really pique my interest.
I had started a conversation with him a few days prior, sending him a list of items in response to his profile as his profile had a list at the end of it.
One of his first sentences on his profile caught my eye, given my participation in protests as well as my research interests: “Dissent in the streets, consent in the sheets.” I had nearly told myself not to send out messages any more, as I had planned to get new profile pictures taken and I didn’t think anyone would respond. I took a chance anyway.
I’m too lazy at the moment to do the massive amount of scrolling it would take to find out who asked out whom, but I’m thinking he did.
We decided to meet at a restaurant called Rock Bottom in Pittsburgh, then go to the Three Rivers Arts Festival.
I should note one thing – he found my blog (and admitted as such) before we met. Despite having the same username for WordPress and OKCupid, this had not occurred to me. Hell, I had even done similar searches for guys. I know my blog itself is not searchable through Google. In any case, this was a surprise. I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve written here. It was even somewhat of a relief because he said he knew I’ve lost a lot weight. One awkward conversation avoided! Huzzah!
We met at the restaurant and took our seats. Much of our conversation was about social justice stuff and bad dates we’d been on. At one point, he stopped and said, “Your profile pictures are shit; they didn’t prepare me for how gorgeous you are.” No doubt I blushed. I really hope it wasn’t a line he uses all the time.
At the end of our lunch, he presented me with a bus pass. He had already filled it. I was amazed by the planning and thoughtfulness! As we walked across the parking lot to the bus stop, people called him out by name, which I thought was pretty cool. We rode the bus to the festival and he told me stories of his time in Kenya. My stories from Ghana could not really compare. He also pointed out landmarks and places that were important to him, like where he got his glasses.
We got off the bus and walked to the festival. He walked on the outside of the sidewalk, a leftover from having been raised in the South, he said. At one point, he slowed his pace across an intersection. I called him a turd, thinking he was purposefully trying to hold up traffic. He was… but it was because there was an older woman with a walker, not just for the sake of holding up traffic like I thought. Oops.
We visited many booths. Being very broke, I just admired and lusted after pieces of art. Eventually we started saying what we weren’t big fans of, like pieces that were just photoshopped art. We joked about how there was just no Pittsburgh-related art around there (in reality, there was a ton). He bought a piece that was an octopus screenprinted on old newspaper ads, specifically ads about maritime-related things. He fell in love with a sculptured wall hanging of Medusa, but delayed purchasing it until we had seen every booth. I bought a small book called Penguins Hate Stuff.
There was a booth taking pictures for people to put on a mosaic of Pittsburgh. We got our picture taken and added to the mosaic.
At one point, he spied my back tattoo and asked what it was. I said it was Kermit and invited him to take a peek by pulling the back of my shirt collar down slightly. He said he wasn’t going to pull down a lady’s shirt in public before holding her hand. I thought that was sweet.
He purchased the Medusa and I put his octopus print in my bag. Then I held his hand and we walked away from the festival.
On our walk back, he saw a 7-11 and said we needed to stop to see if they had cinnamon-flavored Slurpees. They did, and we both got one. Along our walk in the cultural district, we talked about The Book of Mormon musical and how Beetlejuice could potentially be a musical. We paused in a little park and he pointed to a “special kind of tree that blooms year-round.” I said it looked like a statue. It was.
We stopped in a comic book shop that was just about ready to close. So much random stuff, including an N*Sync Barbie.
He offered to show me the architecture in what was formerly a public train station, but as it was already getting late and my dogs had been left in their crates, I declined.
We walked to the bus stop, passing Pittsburgh’s Kwik-E-Mart. I told him I needed to use the restroom and he generously pointed to a drain and offered his handkerchief (haha). I declined.
On the bus ride back, he talked about his work history and how he came to live in Pittsburgh. I talked about how it is I became interested in being a professor. He put his arm over my shoulder – that was nice, even if it was just to stretch out.
After we arrived back in the Target parking lot where we had left our cars, I ran in to use the restroom. He brought in one of the kid’s carts (since they don’t fit on the cart trolley). He waited for me and we walked out together.
I leaned against my car and we talked about when we could see each other again. He then said, “Hopefully you won’t slap me after this,” and he leaned in and kissed me. I told him I wasn’t going to slap him. And I can’t really remember what was said after that, though I think it was probably stuff about how we each needed to be on our way, or directions or something. Then he told me he was going to kiss me again, and he did. I’m pretty sure he said that.
I called my mom once I got to a part of Pittsburgh I recognized enough to not need my GPS. She said I sounded the happiest post-date that she’s ever heard. She was impressed that he’s a progressive from the South.
And that’s how my first date went. I think he shall be known as Steve (’cause Wonder Woman).