He Wore Flip Flops In The Rain. And I Judged Him.

I had a lunch date with a guy I’d exchanged a few emails and many a g-chat with.  We even Skyped-which I’ll be writing a post on…I highly recommend Skype or iChat with a date before you waste time doing your hair, especially if you’re juggling lot’s of dates.  For reals.

Anyways, all was good on the “No Catfish Here Front”. I looked like me, he looked like him, we laughed and decided we could handle an actual date.

I was on time, he was late (whyyyyyyyyy…stop being LATE you guys)…and he texted me, “Just walking up!”

It was pouring rain, did I mention that? And freezing, at least for Southern California standards. And he was wearing flip flops. SANDALS. The.Horror.
I hate to sound super judgemental (too late!) but as online daters, isn’t that what we do? JUDGE!  Judge the first email, first phone call, the Facebook judge, searching for what’s wrong…instead of what’s right? Or is that just me…haha.

Now, I’m not going to beat around the bush here. I think a guy wearing flip flops in the rain is obnoxious. I would think the same about a girl…but where I live, flip flops and sandals never get put away for good and I know I’ve been guilty of a grocery store run in flip flops during a storm.  Most of the guys I am attracted to are surfers, or outdoorsy and flip flops and jeans are kind of their uniform.  Do I wish he had the presence of mind to put on actual shoes? Why yes, yes I do.  Did he need a pedicure?  Yes, yes he did-all that outdoorsy-ness I like so much does not leave your feet looking too sexy, apparently.

But I digress.

We laughed a lot and he is devastatingly handsome.  He has impeccable table manners and asked the right questions.  Things seemed to be going well because after we ate, he asked if I wanted to go to another place to get some pumpkin cheesecake. I forgot about his footwear and stopped judging…and just had a great time.

Whether or not he is someone I want to continue dating has yet to be determined, but if things keep going well, maybe I’ll just have to get him a pair of Chuck Taylor’s for Christmas and burn the flip flops. With love, of course. And an alibi.