On Blind Dating and Co-Workers

4/13/2013 The Romantic 9 Comments

Do you ever see those ridiculously looking young girls on campus? And you think to yourself, "She looks 13." And then you see a wedding ring. It's a dreaded child-bride of Provo. Perhaps it's a little ageist, but my friends and I have taken to calling all young (like high-schooling looking) girls on campus child-brides.

When I finally made time to go on that blind date a couple weeks ago, I had no idea there was a male component to the "child-bride" set: "the child-groom." This kid was so young. I can't even call him a guy. He was just a wee little thing. I'm not even sure if he can shave yet. Poor kid. I felt the need to guard him like a tender young plant from my sarcasm. (I guess you don't really guard plants from sarcasm... but you get what I mean right?) 

I came home flabbergasted. "Where are the men!?" I shouted at my room mate. Is it possible I've grown too old for Provo? Are there only baby-faced men left in this town? I would really like to find a man that shaves. So at least some day in the future there might be the possibility of this.

Enter The Argentine. 

As his name would suggest, The Argentine is from Argentina. But don't worry, he speaks perfect English (with a rather attractive Spanish accent I might add). And we work together. I started at my place of employ last October, and I would say it's only been within the last two months or so that we've begun to have a playful banter. I've only cautiously flirted with him as I feel that one should always be wary of Latin men. (They do have a Willoughby-like reputation. Amirite?)

Admittedly, he's a bit rough around the edges. But there was the one day he brought me chocolate when I wasn't feeling well. So I think there's a soft gooey center under that gruff exterior shell. (Why are women so attracted to things like that?)

 A couple weeks ago he threw a bonfire party up the canyon. I pulled out my party tricks of palm-reading and fire-breathing (I was a gypsy in a previous life, don't even worry about it). I even flirted with a stranger and I think he flirted back. (RESULT!) Again, I was wary of flirting too much with The Argentine but quite suddenly I found myself dusting some powdered sugar (from the fire-breathing) off his shoulder, and that was it. His rippling muscles had me sold. I saw my room mates, who were standing near-by, giving me knowing looks.

Yesterday he texted me asking how I would feel about going out with him next week. My thoughts have been shifting between excitement and anxiety. Excitement because it's a real life man (not a child-groom) asking me out. And anxiety because it's a co-worker. I've never dated a co-worker. I just see so many things going wrong with that situation....

Have you dated a co-worker dear readers? What was your experience? Good/bad/awkward? Help me out!

xoxo
-the romantic