Going Against Type

Recently I went out with Football Player guy. This guy is so not my type. He plays football (duh) and looks the part, loves to swig beer, cusses like a sailor, and drives a pickup truck. I had a good time (he had a certain humorous, good ol' boy charm to him), but about halfway through the evening, a thought struck me.

I never did much dating in high school. I was definitely a late bloomer when it came to flirting with guys, and my painful shyness and self-consciousness didn't help much either. I would say my dating experience was limited to two double dates at the movies and my senior prom.

Since I was not very romantically adventurous in high school, I never really experienced dating the kind of guy you find in my town. In case you are not from a small town in Western Maine, let me paint you a picture of the typical bachelor of those parts.

He is the: Football-playing-or-watching-loves-to-hunt-and-drink-beer-preferably-at-the-same-time-uses-swear-words-loudly-and-often-
proudly-conservative-and-filled-to-the-brim-with-testosterone Guy.

In one evening of drinks with the football player, I felt I had made up for four years of non-dating in high school. Most of the guys I've dated in the past have had a different vibe. They were, hmm how should I put this? Oh yeah. Foreign. But this red-blooded apple pie american I was hanging out with was more foreign to me than any of them. Especially because, by the next day he had already asked me out for a second date. I might need to bring a translator.