Date #3 with Mr M happened today. We originally were planning on going out to dinner Friday night, but uni was a killer this week with a few late nights up to 2am reading long winded Harvard Business Review case studies, so I pulled the pin on the date early Friday morning. I hate doing that to someone as I really hate people bailing on me at the last minute, but I was spent!
I had a ripper weekend last week for the Australia Day long weekend so I was already planning a quiet weekend and was pretty free, but he has family here from interstate, so a daytime date today was in order. We have discussed at length how I like to find random fun stuff to do, so when we spoke to line up the date yesterday he said he wanted to check out a few things and let me know.
Later in the day he told me that he’d found something and that I should ‘dress sporty’. Cue, the SeriouslySingle freak out! I do not ‘dress sporty’. My best attempt is probably wearing my black Nikes that have fancy white and fluro coral trim on them with jeans – and I still feel a bit Jerry Seinfeld doing it even though they are black!
So I reply ‘how sporty is sporty?’ He replies ‘well you don’t need a fluro headband, but you may get a little sweaty’. Okaaaaay…..
I was kinda excited by the idea of a surprise though and thought it was cool of Mr M to run with it, but it raised so many questions for me. Should I wear makeup? It’s a date so I think yes, BUT on occasions where I’ve stopped off to do the bay run on the way home from work, I often return to the car after an hour of huffy puffy and see Alice Cooper looking back at me in the rear view mirror….
Should I wear a sports bra? Ladies, we all know you gotta fight the bounce and as Serena puts it ‘avoid unexpected turbulence’, but sports bras often give your boobs a VERY unflattering shape….
But turns out the answer to that question should have been yes. I meet him at his place (out the front of his apartment complex) as its on the way to our secret activity. He is dressed super casual (including lily white legs, yay we both have ‘corpse’ coloured tans…) and comments that I look ‘very pretty’ (with my perfectly straight and bouncy hair which typically magically morphed into ‘best hair day ever’ standard on a day where it will just go to waste…)
We drive a little and he navigates from his phone rather than putting the address on my sat nav in the car to keep me in suspense. He soon tells me to turn right into a big business complex and that we are ‘here’. All I can see is an Officeworks and I ask him if that is where we are going. He says ‘yes, I hope you like stationery’. Actually yes I do! Kikki K and Typo rock my world just a little….oooh how I love a good highlighter!
But no, he says to keep driving. I next notice a Jaguar dealership. One of my most perfect ‘day out’ things to do is test drive hot cars that I have no intention to buy….but I know this guy is into motorbikes, not really cars unfortunately, so I highly doubt that that was even on his radar. He did tell me he liked my car as soon as he got in it though, but I presume that was just because he knows I love my Black Betty dearly.
Further along there is a Harley Davidson dealership. Oh no. My last Harley experience was a joy ride around Uluru a few years back and I hated every single moment. Right up to when in attempting to dismount the bike at the end of the ride, I accidentally kicked the bikie in the back of the helmet, we both fell off and the bike ate the red desert dirt….. Honestly one of the most embarrassing moments of my life! And there have been so many to choose from….
But no, we keep going and wait for it……….we are going trampolining. Yep, I should have worn that sports bra damn it!!! But it’s a pretty cool idea! I’d not even mentioned it to him, but I had been talking about going with Ms K a few months back and we never got there so I was keen to try it out. He has prebooked and already bought us both the special jumping socks, so we sit down with a drink to catch up before we head out.
I do have some hesitation about this as a date activity though. I am not all that coordinated. Ok that is a complete understatement. I once broke my ankle. Walking. It needed immediate surgery, a metal plate, a pin and about 5 screws. Ok, I was drunk, but really I was just WALKING. But on a positive note, that sucker is so reinforced, nothing can stop me now!! Wait, I have two of those. Fuck. Can you get optional ankle optimisation surgery? Those little boney body parts are not structurally sound at all. I digress….
Is anyone still reading?
You just want to get to the good bit don’t you?
Praise the lord for click-bait headlines!
Anyhoo, we get out to the trampoline area and he is busting to go to the foam pit area first. He has been trampolining with his nephew before and obviously knows what the fuck he is doing as immediately takes a run up, does a somersault off the end and lands perfectly in the pit. I immediate regret not crashing the car on the way here. WTF have I done?!? Would he notice if I hid in the toilets for the hour? Shit, 59 minutes left of this….
Oh it’s my turn. Oh goody! How hard could it be?? Seriously. I try to mimic his run off technique and as soon as I leave the solid floor and take my first bounce on the trampoline, which was FAR more bouncy than I expected, I get the wobbles and almost take out the 3 yr old on the mat next to me. Then I get in trouble from the gorgeous 15 yr old staff chick wearing super short shorts (you know, the ones where you see more butt cheek than short….) that is monitoring our safety with her saying ‘I said only one person per trampoline please’. What part of my uncontrolled bounce, flailing arms and girly squeal made you think that that manoeuvre was intentional love?
So I backtrack and legitimately think I can pull this together. I bounce a few times on the mat, then jump in. Ok done! Phew. No lives were endangered in that attempt. But then I try to climb out. Hmmm this is harder than I expected. I’m sinking. My socks are sticking to the foam bricks and sliding off my feet. I get to the edge of the pit to climb back onto the tramp mat, just like I’ve seen the 3 yr old do, but I’m on struggle street! Surely there is a ladder like on the edge of a pool? At this stage I’m trying rather inelegantly to roll out of the pit and over the edge of the tramp mat when I look up and realise that Mr M is filming this on his phone. And pissing himself laughing. I tell him off and dob him in to Short Shorts and ask her to make him stop filming and help me. She actually does give this a go (once she stops laughing at me) but he keeps filming my ordeal for another min or two!
Eventually he comes to help and pulls me out of the pit. So embarrassing. Then we go to the basketball tramps. He attempts dunking. Nails it. I attempt it and hit the net wall on the way down to the ring, bounce off awkwardly and almost smash my face into the ring whilst over-correcting. Honestly, do I have any athletic ability at all? Any?!??
Next we go to the massive area that has about 30 mats joined together. What could go wrong here? Mr M takes off bouncing from one mat to another with ease. I follow, bounce off the first one, land on the second, face plant on the third. Mr M turns around about 10 mats away and sees me face down. Fortunately he didn’t see that particular stack as it was epic, but he gets to share a similar joy numerous times anyway.
I tried, I failed and I cant stand doing things that I’m not somewhat naturally good at and with the hour long session due to end in 10 minutes, I give up. It was a really fun and absolutely hilarious idea, but I couldn’t help but think whilst bouncing on one spot as that was all I could master, that this wasn’t the hot and sweaty activity that many would expect from a third date…
Source: RSVP via The Age (note that is a total of 48/49% ok….)
We head off to get some lunch, but we both aren’t really that hungry so end up going for gelato at this awesome place I’ve been wanting to try for ages. We sit and chat for a while (including watching that horrendous video he took of me in the foam pit), but I need to get home to do some uni work and he has his visitors soon, so I drop him home. He asks about my week ahead to see when we can catch up again, so despite my lack of sporting prowess, he still digs me!
Date #4 is on it’s way 😉