The Indian Dracula

My date last night looked remarkably as I imagine Dracula's visage, except that he is Indian. The requisite male patters baldness created a hyper widow's cul-de-sac on his forehead--at least it wasn't shiny. Though the gelled back hair could not be dismissed without recurring visions of sleazy older men at nightclubs.

Lesson 1: Never agree to a date with a man who has a hat on. Obstructed forehead view is NEVER grounds for assuming that hair grows unseen on covered heads.

He was kind. We went to Lucy's in Union Square which combines a Sushi Samba style bar/lounge area with a Candela Restaurant dining area: colorful tiles upfront giving way to a heavy, wooden, medieval castle feel in back. Most of the conversation centered on him asking me questions and me noshing on the delicious tapas. He ordered a pitcher of sangria--though I wanted a mojito--fit for four, which we comfortably consumed with dinner. He can keep up on that front, that's new and vaguely interesting. Though much of the conversation came back to family and his attempt at learning my values therein--it was like being quizzed for an Indian matrimonial channel.

Lesson 2: Older guys who bring up their neices in conversation on first dates, DEFINITELY WANT CHILDREN--most likely soon!

He paid for everything. Big plus in his column. It's not about the money as I like to frequently explain, but a man who wants to take care of you will showcase this--at least early on--by picking up the check. I made more than a cursory offer, but he looked (appropriately) downright perturbed by the notion. He was also very sweet about placing food on my plate and dividing everything equally. I'm a fan of being babied when it comes to food. It also speaks volumes when an Indian guy doesn't expect you to serve him.

Lesson 3: Attraction is either there or it isn't. And well if it isn't, you can't force it without gagging.

We moved to the lounge area after dinner and he put the moves on me. He wasn't a bad kisser that said there were NO sparks. He didn't have the Dracula fangs but I couldn't get over his forehead that close to my face. I knew he was having a good time--mostly because he told me so, but also because he kept calling me cute and reassuring me with physical gestures (hand on the arm, hair petting, etc.)

We shared a cab home and he insisted that I call him to let him know I arrived safely. I did not so he texted me. I found that splenda sweet...sadly, no butterflies=no second date. Such a shame.

Well, next up is the model...I'm worried about his brain cell count!