Added: Laurice Button - Date: 02.07.2021 00:25 - Views: 43481 - Clicks: 6526
We were sitting in the Grapevine bar, in Oak Lawn, sunk low into two comfy, gloriously ratty old armchairs near the front.
The place had a low-lit carnival feel, skuzzy and seductive at once. I loved it.
Frat boys. East Dallas and Oak Cliff progressives like us. I stared at a Dallas beauty queen in a tiny black dress and stilettos. The woman next to her at the bar wore a tank top, jean cut-offs, and boots. Click for more about this remarkable story.
It gave me the feeling that everyone belonged. How materialist, conventional, uncreative Dallas could be. His personal profile had bite. Old jeans and a T-shirt picked from some pile. When we met at the bar, he hugged me as I went for his hand. I ed the dating site about a year ago, a few months after I moved back to town.
Most of the guys were pretty much as advertised. They were attractive and smart and funny. I liked them, but not enough, and I was growing frustrated by the come-ons that arrived in my inbox from another random dude holding a cell phone up to a bathroom mirror. The dating site let me select for the eccentrics: in a band, getting my Ph. One night, I sat at Cafe Brazil in Deep Ellum with a tattooed academic who had legs like chiseled stone. We sat on the patio, watching women walk by in dresses like neon Band-Aids, and he told me about his recent experiments with bisexuality.
That guy kind of fascinated me. We argued about bike lanes and female orgasms. Dating worked so much better with an open mind. In my 20s, I dismissed men for such minutiae: listening to the wrong music, wearing the wrong socks.
I got mad at a guy in college because he liked porn. I mean, what planet was I living on? At 38, I give people more wiggle room. You never know who is going to lunge from the bushes and throw a canvas bag over your heart. Maybe it was being older, maybe it was living at a moment when people were having deep, challenging conversations about marriage and sexual orientation and the meaning of fidelity, but it seemed like the men I dated were having the same midlife paradigm shift, reconsidering the old maps, blazing new trails for themselves.
I just kept nodding and sipping my venti mocha.
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My Search For One Decent Dallas Man