My Buddy, My Buddy, My Buddy and Me

Do not, under any circumstance, ask a guy if the evenings you're spending together are dates. Take it from me, I learned the hard way. If you have to ask then the answer is no.

Have you ever had one of those mornings where seconds after you wake up the events from the previous day are resurrected and replayed over and over? Last night, after 7 evenings together, I asked him, "So, are these dates?" I felt like there was enough evidence to the affirmative to warrant the question. I'll present my case and you can decide.

Two months ago I went on a non-date date with a guy that works at the same company as I. It was innocent, more opportunistic than planned. Friendly. A casual night at the ballpark then drinks afterward. Since then we've gone out six more times and email most days. He lives 800 miles away so when he comes in town we "hang out." So far, we've gone to a baseball game, four dinners, a really fun night bowling, spent an evening at my place playing monopoly and drinking wine, and last night - he cooked me dinner, in my kitchen.

The dinner was a result of our bowling bet - loser cooks winner dinner. It was HIS bet idea. I whipped him, which is good because if he had won and I had to cook for him, well let's just say that wouldn't be much of a prize. I surely would have served him up a Hot Pocket. He was very solicitous about planning the dinner. He learned of my adoration of macaroni and cheese over the previous 8 weeks of non-date dating. He cooked me homemade mac and cheese! I could write an entire paragraph about the gooey cheddar and gruyere mixed with butter and breadcrumbs. He also made salad with homemade dressing, lamp chops and dessert! Never in my entire life have I made such an elaborate meal, and he claims he rarely cooks too.

A couple other anecdotal pieces of evidence:

• a few weeks ago we were emailing about a band he saw in his hometown, and the next week he brought me a CD he burned of his favorite songs.

• he knows I've had lots of sleeping issues and he showed up last night with what he called a "sleep care package" with all sorts of tincture and teas.

• i double-fisted Cheetos in front of him while playing Monopoly, which he totally called me out on and laughed really hard. (doesn't everyone love dried, puffy cheese snacks?). He's told me since then a few times how "charming" and "endearing" it was.
  

So, let's get back to the heart of this - my big question. Here's how it went down:

After five really enjoyable hours together last night I walked him to my porch. He proceeded to again give me a hug. HUGS ARE FOR SISTERS. Hugs are not for whom you cook homemade mac and cheese. He turned to walk to his car and I blurted - "I have a question, are these dates?" His immediate reaction was more of a stutter than anything else. His consonants were as hard as pebbles in his mouth as he tried the ole, "well what do you think?" throw the question back at me technique. But I would have none, and suddenly felt as if I was having a conversation on the playground at my elementary school. He told me - originally no, that wasn't his intention but that now he'd say yes. (so far so good). He then said, "I guess people on the outside would call them dates because we go to dinner, and that's what dates are." So I said, "I'm not so concerned with people on the outside as I am with what you think." He then tells me that he didn't really need to come to Dallas this week for work but he came to see me. (again, thinking this is going relatively well). Then, it happened. He babbled on for a couple minutes and then landed on, "I guess I just see us as buddies hanging out." The only word more offensive than friends, is buddies. Seriously? And he used it more than once. He cooks for his buddies? He writes long cutsie emails to his buddies? (although if he did that would explain things) He then said something about how he lives on the other end of the country, I'm leaving in a few months, and we work at the same company, so with all that he's going with "not dates." Since when should logic come into play, aren't these matters of the heart? We mumbled goodbyes and abruptly went our separate ways, I inside my condo to gulp the last of the wine.

He sent me an email saying "Maybe it was just me but I felt like our last exchange before I left was sort of awkward..." Umm, pretty sure it wasn't just you feeling awkward, buddy.

So the defense rests. Maybe I'm just some ditsy girl who can't tell the difference between being buddies and dating. Perhaps I'm guilty of romanticizing the cheese grater he bought me. In light of my self-destruction, I have a feeling we won't be "hanging out" anymore when he comes to town.