August – Survived by Tara

Who: August, the dreamy karate teacher who taught the kids I used to nanny

What: Real life date

When: 2005 in between colleges

Where: Santa Barbara, CA

Why: Austin was dreamy. He was tall, GREAT with kids, single, and his whole family ran a karate studio. The two kids I nannied went once a week and it was the best part of my week. He went to UCSB, lived in Isla Vista with a bunch of friends, wanted to be a teacher, and loved working with his family. Now, I got zero of this info from him. It all came second hand from my boss. She was on the hunt to find me a boyfriend. Every time I tried to talk to him I totally froze because he was a gorgeous karate-like model and I was being a nervous silly girl.

THE DATE
My boss finally gave up on me ever making a move on him, so she came with me to karate practice. After the class was over she walked right up to August, pulling me along.

Boss: “August! Great class. I think you should hang out with Tara. She’s new to Santa Barbara and you’re young and fun. Take her out. Great. Now talk amongst yourselves.”
Me: Silence.
August, not missing a beat: “I was hoping I’d get a chance to chat with you! Sorry, all the moms bombard me after class and you’re always gone by the time I have a moment to chat. What’s your number? I’ll call you and we can hang out.”
Me: Silence.
Boss: Coughs, elbows me.
Me: “Oh! Number, right. Here you go. Fun! Uh, talk to you soon?”

I bolt away.

Boss, later: “See! That wasn’t so hard! When you get married, you will thank me.”

The next day he calls. I’ve pep-talked myself into not being a weird creepy human and I’m super cool and casual.

August: “Hey Tara! It’s August, from karate. How are you?”
Me: “Oh Hey! Good!” (See? Totally calm, cool, and casual.)
August: “I’ve wanted to hang out with you, so I’m glad I got your number. I’m having a BBQ tomorrow, would you come?”
Me: “Yeah, totally.”
August: “Cool! Here’s the address, don’t worry about bringing anything- just you! Can’t wait to see you!”
Me: “Uh, Awesome! Me too! Okay BYE!”

I head over to his apartment with a decent bottle of wine and a cheap six pack of beer. I never go to a BBQ empty handed and I had no idea what kind of people August and his friends were, so I covered my bases.

I knocked on the door and was greeted by a short, stout, bearded guy. He yelled for August who appeared instantly.

Me, magically gaining confidence: “Hey! I come bearing delicious BBQ booze!”
August: “Oh! Um, uh….. thanks. (Whispering) “I’ll just put that over here.”

He opens a closet and shoves it in, covering it with a jacket. I find this odd, but shrug it off. He takes me in, holding my hand. (!)

August: “Hey everyone! This is Tara. Tara, everyone! Grab a plate, help yourself, we were just about to get started!”

I mingle for a minute, grab a plate of food, and look for a beverage but settle on water since I’m driving. I leave the kitchen and find myself on the outskirts of 30 people sitting in a circle. I’m about to make a joke about playing a round of Duck Duck Goose when August grabs a DRUM, heads to the center, and starts playing it. Then after seemingly grabbing them from thin air, suddenly EVERYONE has an instrument and starts playing. They are singing “Michael row the boat ashore, Hallelujiah.” My jaw drops and so does my plate. Thankfully I had already eaten most of the food, so I pick up the chip remnants, back away from the circle and head to the kitchen.

Side note: I was raised Catholic and I have a Jewish father. I don’t currently believe in one religion, I believe in one’s right to believe in whatever they want. I respect and admire those who have a strong faith.

Sometime later, August finds me. He apologizes for having to leave me for so long, but it was his night to lead the prayer circle. (Ummm, what?) He asks, “Would you like to go outside and sit for a little bit?”

We sit on the stoop of the apartment and he proceeds to bombard me with questions about my faith. What do I believe? Who do I believe? What religion was I raised in? Do I believe in God, heaven, hell?

I’m exhausted and say jokingly, “I need a tall glass of wine after this conversation. Normally I don’t get this into religion until the 3rd date.”

August doesn’t laugh.

August: “Tara, I think it’s getting late. Maybe you should head home. I’ll see you to your car.”
Me: “Oh! Um, okay. I need to go get my jacket.”
Him: “I’ll grab it. You just stay here.”

Im so confused. This evening turned out to be SO bizarre. Isla Vista is known for their drug/drinking parties and I land myself in a prayer drum circle?

He comes back, walks me to my car.

August: “So, I don’t think I can see you again.”
Me: “Sorry?”
Him: “Based on your religious upbringing, I just don’t think I can date you. Look, you’re very pretty and odd, but you aren’t a practicing Christian. I think we should stick to being professional at the karate studio, and pretend this never happened.”
Me: “Ummm. So you’re saying that because I believe in karma and being a good person, etc. that we can’t even be friends? Are you joking me? Seriously?”
Him: “It really doesn’t have to do with you, it’s just what you believe. Don’t take it personally.”

I get into my car and close the door. I’m so weirded out by this. I look over and he knocks on the window. I roll it down.

Him: “Oh! I almost forgot. Here are your alcoholic beverages back. We don’t drink here, so you better just take these back. Night!

Nope. No words. Ugh.

The Pringles Guy – Survived by Tara

WHO: A medium-height guy with arms, legs, and a full head of hair. That’s all I rememeber. Probably cute? Doesn’t matter at this point.

WHAT: OkCupid

WHEN: A few years ago..it’s hazy.

WHERE: Madrone! Amazing spot in the Nopa/Lower Haight ‘hood. They’ve got a deer head on the wall with shotguns instead of antlers. My kind of spot. Also, they have a cucumber cocktail that is one of my favorite things to drink ever. The end.

WHY: The defining factor of this gentleman was the fact that he liked to dance. He mentioned Motown Monday in our emails and said he thought we should grab a drink and get our dance on. It has been near impossible for me to date a guy that likes to dance, so I said yes REAL quick.
THE DATE
At the time, I lived about a 5 min walk from Madrone. We decided to meet in front and as I crossed the street, a normal-looking dude wearing a giant puffy jacket smiled at me.

Jacket: “Tara?”
Me: “Hiya!” (Hug) “Shall we go grab a drink?”
Jacket: “Yeah! This place makes a great Vodka on the rocks.”
Me: “Huh, okay?”

We sit at the bar and I take off my coat, order the amazing cucumber drink rather than a vodka, and start the interview…I mean date. He’s from So Cal. He’s got a family. He has a job. Blah blah blah. I realize that I’m a little bored and that he hasn’t taken off his jacket. It’s warm inside, and the DJ just starts throwing down some jamz. It’s getting harder to hear my date and I really can’t figure out why he is still wearing a down jacket.

Me: “Wanna put your coat with mine?”
Him: “What? You wanna glass of wine?”
Me: “No, DO YOU WANT TO PUT YOUR COAT WITH MINE?”
Him: “Nah, I’m okay. Let’s dance.”

He grabs my hand and we head out onto the dance floor. It’s packed and after a few songs I’m sweaty and I can only imagine he should be too. He’s still wearing that giant jacket.

“OH THIS IS MY JAM!” he yells when some oldies song comes on. He unzips his jacket and does a slide step away from me. He reaches behind him and looks like he’s trying to tuck in his shirt. He pulls out TWO PRINGLES CANS. AND HE STARTS SHAKING THEM.

“EXTREME BBQ PRINGLES! EXTREME!” He starts shaking them in front of me like maracas, pops them open and starts eating them, handing them out to strangers on the dance floor. I eat a few and they are, in fact, EXTREME. But I can’t get over where he had them hiding. I cozy up to him wondering weirdly if there were more. AND THERE WERE. HE HAD ANOTHER CAN TUCKED INTO HIS BELT.

At least this date fed me.