39. April 2011: Gabe, Mr. Pants-on-fire

After a few weeks of flirty texts, that guy, Gabe and i scheduled an actual date for that 'sometime' drink. I'm not going to lie - I was excited for this date, a feeling i haven't had since date #4.

Maybe I felt this way because i already knew we had chemistry from the first time we met. And as we know chemistry has been that elusive thing I've been striving for since this project began.

At a bar in my neighborhood, Gabe and I sipped delicious bourbon, leaned in close, and got to know each other. He was a good listener. He complimented me on my shirt and told me I looked pretty (smart man!).  We laughed at each others' jokes. Hours passed. We got hungry. We changed venues to a sushi and sake place. On the way to dinner he held my hand. More hours passed. He walked me home. I invited him up.

We kissed on the couch and cuddled. I told him about my back injury (do I really know how to turn a guy on, or what?) and he offered to give me a massage (kind of amazing considering my thoughts the day before). It was lovely. I invited him to sleep over (it was G rated, I promise) because it was late; he doesn't live near me; he had to get up at 5am for work; and because i liked the cuddling.

The morning was a blur, but he gave me a quick hug and said 'thanks'. The rest of the day I felt happy.

Gabe is unpretentious, honest, open, liberal-minded, loves traveling and food, is smart and funny, and doesn't seem to be addicted any illegal substances. Oh, and he's tall too! "Check, check, check" went the ideal-guy checklist in my head.

We both confessed that we felt an instant connection when we met. We both admitted how comfortable we felt with each other. We both shared personal stories and facts about our lives.




Or at least i shared facts...him? not so much.

Like any smart single girl, one day after our date I decided to do some serious internet reconnaissance on Gabe. I don't know why, call it women's intuition, or a 6th sense, or just life experience, but something felt off.

The first time we met i'm pretty sure i asked him his age. I'm pretty sure he told me 28. But I was drunk, so I asked him again this time at dinner. He said 30. I quote: "i'm 30. I'm turning 31 in June." I'm 32, turning 33 in July, so that all sounded great to me.

My google recon mission revealed three things:

1. He is 24 years old!

2. He lied!

3. To my face (twice)!

I texted him immediately

Me: "Why didn't you just tell me the truth about your age when I asked you?"

Him: "Because I'm an idiot, clearly"

Him a few minutes later: "But you aren't. You're pretty great. My apologies. I'll understand if you don't want to speak to me again."

Since then my feelings have vacillated between angry, disappointed, sad, angry.

I still haven't responded.


So I ask you faithful readers, help me out on this one.

What do you think i should do? Does chemistry trump age? Has this ever happened to you? Am i on the road to cougar-town if we continue to date?

I would love to hear from you! Comment below or email me at onehundredfirstdates@gmail.com

with love,