So, after more phone tag playing, funny texts being exchanged, and a birthday trip to NYC where he hopefully didn't contract an STD, Gucci and I meet.
He suggests I come to his house and we leave from there. What is it with these millionaires and making me suspect they're the Craig'slist killer's cousin? But unlike Millionaire who lives in the hills, at least Gucci's place is in a West Hollywood neighborhood where I could safely run for my life if need be.
His house is not as impressive as Millionaire's but still, nicely done, especially for a guy who's only 30. And hey, anyone with some grass they can call their own has already one upped me. He answers the door and is wearing the exact same thing he has on in his dating profile picture. Guess he wanted to be sure I thought he looked like his picture. Still, it's endearing in a dorky kind of way.
The inside of his house is nice....ish. Lots of leather furniture, heavy drapes....not really my style but that's something that can be improved. He suggests we have a drink before heading out to a nearby lounge. He offers me a mixed drink or champagne and me being totally girly in my drinking habits, I go for the champagne. Knowing he's got bucks I'm hoping maybe he'll bust out a bottle of Vueve which is not too pretentious yet not too cheap.
Um. The champagne is pink. Why do I suddenly feel like I'm sitting in Barbie's dream house? If his clothes come off and he's got smooth plastic bits where his manliness should be I'm outta here.
We're chatting and he's just as entertaining in person as he has been on the phone. We're both SO sarcastic and dry in our humor that I'm a bit worried we'll spend the whole night trying to one up each other with self deprecation but so far so good. He asks me questions about myself and while I am in the middle of answering him I am looking around the room when suddenly I go silent. He looks at what I'm looking at and bursts out laughing.
It's a huge oil painting of Madonna and Britney kissing at the VMA's in 2003.
No, I'm not kidding. He then leaves me even more speechless by telling me HE painted it. I don't know whether to be impressed by his artistic talent (it IS surprisingly accurate) or repulsed by his subject choice. He explains it is part of a series he is working on about shocking pop culture moments in the 21st century. Next up on his easel? The Janet Jackson/Justin Timberlake Superbowl performance fiasco. I laugh politely and hope this is just another one of his jokes. It's not.
I quickly change the subject and we decide to go the lounge he had chosen. It's a nice evening so he asks if I'm up for Mexican instead. I say sure and we walk to a chintzy tex mex place down the street from his house. On the way there he takes my hand, though as he's making his move he asks if that's ok. That's kind of sweet and I like him enough so I assure him that it is.
We didn't meet up til 9ish so I'm not all that hungry but the restaurant is chill and not crowded and we're perfectly happy to munch on chips and salsa and have some drinks. Conversation flows easily; we talk about his family and growing up in LA, how he decided to start his business, why I moved to LA, and some of our dating experiences and past relationships. His last serious relationship was 3 years ago and 3 years in length, which is a bit of a red flag but it's LA, if anyone understands how hard it is to find someone you'd actually enjoy seeing on a regular basis, it's me.
After a drink or two he leans over and gives me a kiss and asks for the bill. It was totally appropriate and also not unwelcome. A cute move, not one of those nasty "Ew can those two get a room already?" displays of affection. We walk back to his house, he kisses me again by my car and then, just before I leave, he....shakes my hand? Um. Is this a business deal or a date?
If a man is talking in the woods and no woman hears him... is he still wrong?
LL
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