So yesterday, I finally went out with ILG. After having a minor freakout in my mother's house over not having brought anything that is pub-appropriate to wear (thank you to Megs and Kate for emailing me through my fashion freakout), I settled on dark jeans, Tory flats, and a white Lilly top with a black cami underneath. Because really folks, nothing says "casual" quite like an outfit that costs more than some people's rent in the Midwest does. (Of course, this is true of most of my outfits, so I'm not one to talk.) The place we were originally supposed to go to had cancelled pub trivia because of March Madness, so we ended up going to another bar in Murray Hill. We were doing so well there in the beginning, and then by the end, we got our rear ends handed to us on a platter. We got to talk a lot and I had a great time. He has an amazing sense of humor and I really like him, but I got the feeling that it isn't mutual. (It was nothing that he said or did, he was so nice and friendly the entire night, it's just my woman's intuition.) I would really want to go out with him again, but if he doesn't call again, I won't be shocked. Considering some of the other dates I've had, I'm just glad that this one didn't work out because we don't mesh, and not because his only hobby is watching porn or he can't read or whatnot.
Actually, what didn't help was my 50,000 or so sorority sisters texting me every 5 minutes to say "how's it going?" He thought it was funny. I was so embarassed. At some poing in the night, I just gave up and turned my phone off.