Traveling 30

Traveling 30; 30 years old.

            After losing Mr. 30 to an apparent better right swipe I was on the hunt for a potential Mr. 30 2.0. Preferably Mr. 30 2.0 would be less of an ass, drink more, have better stamina and know the definition of black tie but be the same height with the same killer abs (did I forget to mention that part of Mr. 30?). Enter Traveling 30, a consultant who travels for work…did you see that one coming?  He has an interesting name that would probably sound weird if I ever had to yell it but he has a nice smile and he’s 30. He just barely passes the swipe right height test at 5’10. Scheduling a date with someone who is only in my city for 3 and a half days during the week is a nightmare but we settle on Tuesday. I’m not sure why these traveling consultants drop off the face of the earth when traveling in other cities…well I guess I do, those bumbles in the other cities need attention too, right?  I let him choose the restaurant and of course he chooses the same place I had my first date with Mr. 30 and where I started drinks with Fort Worth.  I’m a little concerned by the choice but I’m confident it’s been long enough not to be recognized.  I always confirm the time with my dates right before I get in the shower because I want to make sure I actually have to start getting ready.  No girl has time to shower and start this process only to have nowhere to go.  Text sent, text received; he wants to push it back an hour due to work.  Due to the apology and admission he doesn’t want to cancel, I agree.  Pushing back a date is dangerous because the pregame has already started and now you’re just making it longer. 

            Time out: You might be asking yourself right about now, “does she ever see any of these guys sober?”  The answer is no. Actually, I saw Mr.30 sober a few times but that is only because my 25-year-old liver works like a charm and if you’re waking up in my bed in the morning; I'm sober. It actually might be the worst time to be sober because yours truly now needs to figure out how to get him out by 6am so I can go work out. I’m convinced that Mr. 30 never knew I was always drunk when I saw him because he only ever saw that glazed over look in my eyes and probably assumed that twinkle glaze needed some time to set-in in the morning.

Time in:

            Even with my extra hour, I was late and didn’t beat him there. He’s already standing at the hostess desk getting our name on the list and the first thought in my head is that Traveling 30 and I have different definitions of “5’10”. There is no backing out now but that pregame is coming in handy at this point. 

            Dinner is good, the conversation is keeping me somewhat interested (which is harder to do when I’m drunk) and I even laughed a few times. You know those moments when you’ve been spaced out a little and then come back to reality and wonder what the fuck is going on? That also happened.  I come back to full attention to this conversation and for some reason we’re talking about the age of getting engaged, how dating 29 year old girls is hard because that’s what they’re looking for and also the most forbidden topic, babies. First, I think to myself, “did your drunk ass bring this shit up?” but he is definitely too into this conversation for this to have been my idea and I know I need to shut this down quickly (remember, he’s 30). My best attempt to shut this down was saying “I’m 25 and drunk most days; I’m not looking to get engaged soon”, followed by the most charming gesture framing my uterus while saying “and this is closed for business at the moment”. He seemed to think that was funny. Instead of moving on to a better topic somehow I now found myself talking about student loans, job salaries and future parenting; Traveling 30 isn’t getting hints to change the subject.

            We both made it through dinner like champs, I’ll give myself two gold stars for surviving talking about children. The date ended with the same old pleasantries as others; both saying we had a good time, a hug for good measure and I threw in a high five because I'm drunk and awesome like that. We’ll see if Traveling 30 gets a second date, but we all know what that will be. Yep, testing the limits of that 30-year-old liver with sake bombs and all you can eat sushi on a Sunday.