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We met at a cool Downtown speakeasy-style bar that had glittery cocktail tables and beautiful model-esque waitresses and appetizers about the size of three whole almonds. Let me break it down for you: As a woman with massive cleavage and big chandelier earrings brought me over my date's table, I kept thinking, "SHIT, do I hug her? For the second date, I was far less fixated on myself, because I wanted to see if I liked this girl. I learned that she hailed from glam Long Island, her parents divorced when she was sixteen and her screwed-up phase was when she was 17 when she had a brief flirtation with an eating disorder (OMG, me too! As I walked four miles back uptown to my little six-story walk-up apartment I thought about HER. Because I was so curious in figuring out she was, I hadn't let myself feel any chemistry."Oh you're going on the third date?
This time I met her right after work and was in a very tame costume -- a black cut-out onesie and violet lipstick. We met at an underground cocktail bar, the kind of pretentious place that refers to bartenders as "mixologists" and pours egg whites into alcoholic drinks.
And suddenly I knew what my co-worker meant by the "third date shift."I wasn't teeming with social anxiety because I already had spent one date doing that and I had spent another date listening to her story. I was able to be present with the blue-eyed babe, able to get lost in the heat of the moment.
I wore a backless black leotard and lace stockings and a short tulle skirt, because I like my women to know that I'm a shameless freak right off the bat (I was also in a big Black Swan fashion phase). And I fell into the rabbit hole of fascination with this mystical creature. But let me hear YOUR story 'cause tonight ain't about me, honey). " my co-worker asked me during a lipstick bathroom break.
The girl in question had blue eyes and a direct gaze and a stylish haircut. I did what every nice young Jewish lesbian does on a second date and I grilled her with a gazillion and then some personal questions."Where are YOU from? She painted her pout with bright red lacquer and blankly gazed at her own reflection with big hazel eyes."That's when the great shift happens," she said, clicking on her heels like Dorothy in the "Wizard Of Oz" and strutting out of there before I could even ask what the hell she meant by "third date shift."But I went on the third date. I was ready to let myself I was ready for the butterflies to penetrate my body.