Dating Portlandia: The Surprise Ending

I should have taken it as an omen when he wanted to meet at Space Room.

Space Room isn't just a dive bar in Portlandia.

It's the kind of dive bar where you're afraid you're gonna catch the clap from using the bathroom. 

The walls are black, the gambling machines are neon, and I don't even want to think about what's making the benches so sticky. 

BUT--

I am nothing if not open minded (and judging him shamelessly while being so) so I said, Sure, let's meet there. 

Because who doesn't love a scary dive bar to set the mood.

I went for a run before the date.

Yeah. I can't believe it either. I've always HATED running. Any woman with DD breasts will understand why running sucks. But I discovered a way to securely strap the ladies down--three bras to be exact, one underwire, one sport, and one sport that's too small--which basically created a corset for my boobs and voila! I can run! It's a miracle! It also gives me fabulous cleavage which is great because who doesn't love a sweaty redhead with cleavage up to her eyebrows. 

But dive bar or no, I didn't want to wear my running clothes on my date. 

My dresses are soooooooo much cuter.

So I got to the bar a little early so I could change in the bathroom.

Now I use the term "bathroom" loosely as it was the size of a closet and not even wide enough for two people to fit in the entryway. 

I nearly tripped on a girl waiting to use the one stall.

Though in her drunken stupor she graciously let me go ahead of her.

While I changed the two ladies loudly discussed their evening thus far with the kind of slur usually reserved for sorority girls.

Then the bathroom door went flying open and some guy started yelling at the Delta Nu pledges.

Now I am all for a good bar brawl.

I will probably even film it and turn it into a vine. 

But not while I'm naked and trapped in the closet bathroom of ickiness.

The girls managed to leave the bathroom with their pimp and I went flying out of the bar with gusto.

Gusto? Does anybody ever actually say gusto?

I immediately texted my date and informed him that since I was nearly a casualty in a bar fight I was going to mosy -

Mosy? Seriously why am I talking like a southern grandmother?

mOsy over to the Sapphire Hotel, a bar that was the Dom Perignon to the Pabst that was Space Room.

Thankfully my date was adaptable and he joined me at one of my favorite bars in Portlandia.

Conversation was fine and he was cute enough.

But truthfully?

I felt like I was on one of those dates where he just wasn't that into me. 

No bother.

You win some you lose some. 

So as we walked out I prepared myself for a hearty handshake and a fare thee well.

But to my surprise he leaned in and kissed me. 

A long, hard kiss.

If my life were a movie that would have been the moment I gasped, "Oh!" like a cartoon and then burst into song with the chorus something like, "He likes me! He really likes me!"

But since my life isn't a movie I just stared at him. 

Dumbfounded. 

"Where'd you park?" He asked. 

'Um. Over there.'

We walked towards my car while I tried to process what parts of the date gave me any indication that he'd want to kiss me. 

We got to my car and he kissed me again. 

Actually he kissed me a LOT.

If my life were a movie this would be the post prom teenage make out scene. 

He kissed me with that same level of desperate intensity. 

Then I started laughing. 

Like, stupidly, incessantly laughing. 

"What are you giggling about?" He asked me.

I hesitantly started to speak. 

Then I blurted out, 'I don't know your name!'

I didn't realize until that moment that I had no idea who I'd been on a date with.

I am SUCH a whore.