Scotty Potty

So discovering that Scotty rhymed with Potty made all the difference on my date last night, when I took to calling Scott--Scotty Potty--which he actually appreciated on some level, mostly because he loves the sound of my voice.

We went to Single Room Occupancy which exudes a modern speakeasy vibe. Very sexy. He rocked a '90s chic sweater vest with Omega Ferragamo cuff-links holding together his pink (I'm sorry--SALMON) button-down shirt. As if I wasn't impressed enough with his clean shaven, look-book preppy style, his immaculate studio made my breath catch a little.

His motif is VERY New England even if he was raised in Queens. Tan leather loveseat which I melted into not just because it was comfy but it matched my shade of brown almost exactly and a matching bed frame (yes, it was a LEATHER bed frame)--I never even KNEW they made such things. Anyway, his array of Atlases really did it for me--which Tommy couldn't help chuckling at when I narrated the tale to him later that evening (at 2am this morning actually!). Apparently he was convinced it was some sort of euphemism, "Because honestly WHO finds Atlas ownership hot?" I'll tell you who! BIG GEEKS, like ME.

I've never been in such a clean apartment. EVER.

Well, arguably my mom's house is that clean...but it's MY MOM...and she has a housekeeper. I mean there wasn't even dust. No clothes visible. Bed perfectly pressed into place. Spotless kitchen, not a dish to be found.

He taught me how to spin a tiny wooden dreidle. I must say I sucked at it. I can't spin a top apparently this inability translates to the dreidel kingdom. He had a mizzasuzza on his door. It makes me wonder why he's dating a brown girl. I mean if this shiksa is for practice, just tell me now...

Scott was sweet. So sweet. Not in a lame way, but just in a "I'm a man but I still have feelings without being totally gay" way. He took me up to the roof to see the view and show me the glass room--it was pretty swank. The best part was when he actually walked me downstairs and hailed my cab for me. See, that's the sort of thing that a girl remembers...that's the kind of thing she cherishes.

Well, alright truth be told the BESTEST part was that he didn't push the envelope. After going on my share of BAD dates, I can tell you that I can really appreciate a good one. And Scott is a good date! It was that perfect balance of knowing that he wanted more but he was gentleman enough not to try it or respectful enough of my lady-ness not to try it. Either way, date two went well.