El Politico

I have officially made my way through the trifecta of DC dating.

1. State Department (aka Mr Perfect for his girlfriend)
2. Aspiring Businessman (aka Dick MacDickerson)
3. Capital Hill (aka El Politico)

If this isn't a current trifecta, I'm making it one.

In this great moment of my life, I would like to thank all those that got me where I am today... Except for Dick MacDickerson, because he can bone a goat for all I care.

But I'd like to know when can I stop? Seriously, no, but really. Where does the love metro stop? How many lines are there and shouldn't I be able to transfer from the crazy train to the nice train, again,
or the devilishly handsome train...?
or the swarthy millionaire train?
I really hope I didn't grab the unlimited fare card when I boarded... because I'm seriously tired of dating right now...

A couple of weeks ago I went out on a date with a guy I had drunkenly (You don't have to confirm that I'm a superstar) kissed several times in Madhatter (one of my finer moments as proved by the thumbs up of my friends).

To admit that I was wary of the date would be an understatement because need I remind you (1) I was inebriated when I met him and (2) He met inebriated me before sober me and inebriated me likes to talk more than sober me... so he was up for some sincere disappointment if he thought I was about to chit-chat his ear off, but since he was a friend of a friend of a friend OR a friend of a girlfriend of an acquaintance depending on how you look at it... and since I realized I'm not getting any younger and this might be the prime of my life... I went.

Now, I have gone out with some choice people that I've met in bars, we have Dick MacDickerson,
Mr. Perfect for his Girlfriend,
Mr. I'M SO FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU (ask Blair, this was an experience way beyond our years, and I'm so sorry she had to listen to this all the way back to the metro),
then there was Mr. Continuously on a Diet,
MMA Fighter of Everyone else's dreams,
and Sir SigmaChi (This list is about as long as my legs, and while they're not Rockette length, they're not short either so I'm cutting myself off - kind of how I cut the majority of these men off after date one).

The date went quite well actually I'd give it a 4 out of 5 even though I awkwardly chose Pizza as my entree and used my hands at a pretty high class restaurant, when he did not have pizza and therefore I looked like a picky child who didn't want to eat grown up food. I'm not sure whether it was done to make me look less like an infant or if it's an actual etiquette thing, but he ate his asparagus with his hands, which he insisted was the proper thing to do..

And for the first time, of dating someone I've met in questionable origin.. I'm gonna say that El Politico is a decent bloke. A right ole good chap. One of the good guys.

And we have a lot in common for the most part...
I'm Quirky; he wears pastel animal pants and admits it.
I like singing Shania Twain songs; he suggests country songs to his rock band (actual band not xbox).
I like food; he likes food.
He likes to party with his homies; I like dancing with my homies.
I love my family; he loves his family.
I play scrabble; he appeases my addiction.
I drive a car; he drives a car...
You get the point, right?
On and on and on like Alice's Restaurant (if you don't know what that is, look it up).

But what makes this fellow stand above the pack is his ability to admit his flaws from the get-go, his tendency to take my well-being into account (instead of taking me back to his place the night we met, where I'd be horribly drunk and vulnerable. He sat with me till dawn in Dupont Circle letting me sober up, allowing me to get in a taxi, to get to my car, to sleep in my car for a few hours, to drive home - Yes. I am classy.), as well as, his civility and the fact he wore a suit on our first date.

Hello, I think I hit the big leagues. Up until this date, my dates either wore khakis and a polo or blue jeans and a button up. One extremely classy yay-hoo actually wore athletic shorts and a cut-off t-shirt, so I'm going to take a moment to pat myself on the back for the little step I made in my dating life.

.
.
.

O.k. done.

So as I see where the last piece of my trifecta leads me, I'm not sure. I know we have future date plans, but I'm actually pretty nervous due to my inability to deal properly with my Mr. Kryptonite (aka a really long blog for another day) and how he always shows up at just the right moment to mess up all my current plans and have me sitting there at home, alone at the end of a few months saying, "Shit!" to myself over and over again, while I shove cotton candy ice cream down my trap.

Sometimes I just wish Mr. Kryptonite would stick around, but bizarre elements from another world rarely stay around...