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Editor's Note: This column is part of a dating series where an anonymous Austinite shares a personal story about a date. This one was written by a 22-year-old active dater in Austin.

Dating is an ever-changing roller coaster ride. I like to think I was so conceived in the wrong generation. Or have times just really evolved? I'm talking about back in the day in my parents' generation, without cell phones, when there was no such thing as "sliding into the dm's." If a man wanted to date a woman, his options were to approach her in person and get her landline digits in hopes that no one would eavesdrop on the same line.


That right there is what I consider more of a traditional start to a relationship that I just don't see nowadays.

To preface my date in Austin this week, working 40 hours at a breastaurant (think Hooters or Twin Peaks) can leave you with a wonky schedule and a small amount of time to plan a hot date. In an environment like that, it's hard to tell what a man's true intentions are when he asks for your number and claims that he'd like to see the "real you" in a different atmosphere.

(Flickr)


Meet Bobby. While working one day, this man, a manager at a local brewery, said he'd been seeing me around lately and wanted to ask if I had a boyfriend. My status? Single.

This next part was the first sign that this man asking me out could truly be doing so in what I call: the chivalrous way.

He asked if I would like to join him and a small group at an Austin FC game in September.

He was already checking off the boxes that I found to be sweet and I had just met the guy. Those boxes?

  • Asking me a month in advance so I could arrange time off with work
  • It was a sporting event—a fun, rowdy type of getting-to-know-the-real-you-because-we're-getting-drunk-together night out
  • He kindly told me he was buying me an Austin FC jersey

I was getting some man vibes at this point. Yum. And was he hot? Hell yeah. Not once has a male asked me out with a smooth approach like that before through my time at the restaurant. It's always been more of a, "When can we link mamas?" sort of conversation. Was this finally going to be a good one?

With the plans for the game a month out, he wanted to take me out first which was a telltale sign that this man—who hardly knew me—wanted to do things the traditional way. Doesn't that point in the direction of… "the long haul?" Gulp.

A week ago today, we finally went out for our first time: some friendly competition playing arcade games and a few drinks after. I felt like I was Eleven from "Stranger Things" hanging at The Palace for a second.

I was also surprised when he FaceTimed me to let me know that he sent me his location because Google Maps was a little tricky. He went out of his way to arrive first to scope out the place. That was another box to check off my list.

Man, was it actually really fun? Fuck a dinner and a movie, let's see who can win a game of air hockey. Bobby let me spend all of our glamorous 420 points from games on prizes for me. Good sign there. He also covered over $50 of expenses there for us both too. The signs continued to add up. Chivalry.

Finally time for some drinks! I was ready to let loose and see how Bobby did too. One round of beer, four shots and a seltzer to finish off the night.

(Pexels)


Lucky for Bobby, I lived a whole three minutes away from the Domain bar we were at. So I invited him over because I had such a fun night. I was really feeling myself because of the alcohol and had planned to give him my usual test for the night: Would he make any first moves?

I felt comfortable with him and that kind of surprised me—I have my walls up higher than the Great Wall of China. But I needed to use the opportunity to get a feel for his intentions, being that we were now alone at my apartment.

Do I ever make the first move? Hell no, but I did this time. His response was exactly what I was looking for and that made me pretty fucking happy. He didn't make a single touchy-feely move on me until I did and said that he wanted to do things the right way. He told me he shouldn't stay over.

There it was. He earned my stamp of approval because he was going to pass up sex. I had my answer!

He was so unprepared to do anything with me that night, he didn't even have a condom on deck. But that didn't mean he didn't want to—and I was giving him full permission. I could tell he was going to be different. A quick drive to the convenience store around the corner for that much-needed protection and I got the happy ending that I had hoped for.

Sometimes guys leave after the deed is done, but he stayed the night with me. The sex was fucking great. I guess chivalry isn't dead.

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