Who's Paying?

Lover has dated a lot in his past; so, he is pretty familiar with whole dating game, gestures, relationships, what works, what doesn't work, etc... Did I mention that he has dated a lot?

Whenever we go out we play this fun game, where we critique another couples relationship based on what we see (hand gestures, body language, nervous habits, conversation - if we're lucky to be that close to ease drop). Our favorite couples have turned into the first date couples. So, I mention that Lover has dated a lot, right? This means a lot of first dates, he thinks he is a pro about the first date.

We have become almost 100% accurate in pointing out the first date couples. If we disagree, we might find ourselves butting into their conversation to find out. However, we usually both agree. It's actually pretty easy, and fun at the same time, to distinguish the first date. First, they don't look at each other differently; you don't get that deep burning stare, as though the other is peering into their partners eyes. You see the deer in the headlights look, or more commonly, the scared/nervous look. Second, your hand gestures are different; most people are nervous on a first date and therefore find something to do with their hands, say twirling the straw in ones drink or folding, unfolding, and the refolding his or her napkin. Generally, the female will laugh at almost everything that is said, another nervous habit, but also an attempt at flirting. Let me demonstrate:

Him: "I'm really into alternative and punk music."
Her: *chuckle* "Oh that's so funny, me too!"

Was it really that funny?

We really like it when one of them is not interested in the other. For example, we saw this young boy (I say boy because he most likely had barely turned 18) with the young girl (she probably just got her license 6 months ago) together. The boy was completely messing up this date by standing and walking next to her with his arms crossed. Crossed arms are a very uninviting gesture.

If, we can conclude that it is not the couples first date, we then like to guess who is going to pay. This only works if you are somewhere where something has to be bought, like the movies or dinner.

Recently, while enjoying a scrumptious breakfast at The Good Egg, we saw this young couple (maybe in their early to mid twenties). At first, they appeared to be just friends. However, upon further investigation we were able to deduce that they had indeed had sex. The male, clearly was not committed to this young woman. The female, wanted more out of the relationship than he was wanting to give.

After a little bit longer of observing their behavior, I looked at The Man and said:

"I bet she is going to pay!"

I just knew it, it struck me like a lightening bolt.

Afraid that our inner curiosity would not be fulfilled unless we knew who paid, I motioned our waitress over to us. Our waitress is blonde, she lost tip points just for that AND when she brought us our drinks she threw the straws at us, again lost more tip points. However, managed to redeem herself.

Upon my motioning, The Man tried to steer me away but I was resilient.

Me: “I was hoping you could help us out. See, we play this silly little game where we critiques peoples relationships…”

Lover: “No, Christie, stop.” Dismissing the waitress, “you don’t have to listen to her.”

Me: “Babe, I want to know.” To the waitress, “You see that couple over there, the guy with the red hat.”

Lover: “BABE, she doesn’t want to do this…”

Waitress: “No, I want to get in on this.” She moves behind us to get a better view of the couple.

Lover: “Oh my god!”

Me: “See, Babe?” back to the waitress, “We were wondering if you could tell us who pays for the meal, see we are almost positive she is going to pay.”

Waitress: “That is so weird, my friends and I do the same thing, only we try to figure out what they do for a living.” She walks off in promise to report back what she finds.

The waitress gave us a BRILLIANT new game to play! She is in retail of some sort; he on the other hand, unemployed.

Turns out, we didn’t even need our waitress as a spy. As soon as they stood up to walk to the register to pay, the males hands went straight in his pockets, and hers went to her wallet. I laughed! Hysterically!

The waitress did report back and informed us that she was a nurse.

Lover and I looked at each other, laughed and said in unison: “She ain’t no nurse.” The girl might where scrubs and shuffle paperwork, but she certainly is not a nurse.

Later, it comes to find out she drives the same car I do and she lives in the same apartment complex as Lover and I. Ironic.