Fire Alarm

Okay, so my therapist said, "date a normal guy." WTF does that mean??? Well I met one. A normal guy that is. At least he seems normal so far.
We met, wait for it, online. Yup. I've succumbed. His name is Smith and he's a fire fighter. So maybe "normal" isn't quite right. After all how normal is a person who has no fear of running into a burning building? Normal is isn't, but hot it is.
And so was Smith. All those fireman calendars are about right. He is totally fit. So we chatted over wine. I did most of the talking because that's what I do when I'm nervous and drinking. Wine + nervous = blathering fool.
But he laughed in all the right places. Noticed my biceps. What's with policeman and fireman clocking my arms???  Note to all women: Men dig toned arms as much as we do.
It all went swimmingly. He suggested a one hour date. I assume in case we had nothing to discuss and weren't attracted to each other. But when the one hour mark arrived he asked if I wanted another drink. I reminded him of his need to be elsewhere but he said he could wait longer. So we ordered. We drank and then he paid and walked me to car. Though unlike horny Boston PD, Fireman Smith did not kiss me. No moves. He was very polite and gentlemanly. Which now that I think of it is rather nice. Though last night I admit to disappointment.
He wants to have dinner. I said yes. Maybe I will get kiss.

In the meantime, another man from another land may visit. We shall see. Men. They so often disappoint.