How do guys mark their territory?

Let me preface this by saying there is no urination involved. Everyone can relax…I’m speaking metaphorically.

I hadn’t heard from M. Perfect for over 24 hours and he sent me the cutest text message just two hours before my big date. “Good evening…Going to meetings. Needed you last night. ;-)” So cute, right? And it put him right back on top of the pedestal, and my looming date somewhere else.

I think guys have a sixth sense about this. They just know when to call or text or email so they screw with your head…to make it that much harder for another guy to move into his territory. Before my last date (with The Architect), M. Perfect called me three times in one day, all of which were ignored. And when I was dating Chicken (whom I saw maybe once a week), he seemed to be around every single time The Doc called.

So I started my date thinking about M. Perfect instead of Latin Heat (that’s my nickname for the guy from Match.com), but quickly returned to the correct state of mind. I met up with him at the Latin America Club in the Mission, which serves really strong drinks. He was a few minutes late, but I didn’t know if I had the time wrong or if he was just running late because I told him I’m perpetually late.

The Look: Black pants, black sweater, tanned skin, beautiful eyes, and he looks better in person than in his pictures

The Background: Latin, from Chicago, undergrad at Tufts, graduate program in France, works at one of the hottest tech companies in the Bay Area

The Personality: A little flirtatious, well-spoken and well-educated, outgoing, fun, adventurous (mountain biking, traveling, rock climbing), tells great stories (3 extra bonus points for that)

The conversation flowed easily and before we knew it, it was already 11:00. Three hours and four vodka tonics later, I’d say it was a really good first date. No awkward moments…except when he called me a dork because I got really animated and excited discussing some new software. But he said it was an endearing quality (I think he likes that word), at least in San Francisco.

He walked me home and I can’t even remember if we hugged. We certainly didn’t kiss. I don’t know if there was any chemistry there or not, but I had a really good time. It’s almost like dating myself in a man’s body…we have so much in common.

Afterwards, I chatted with my roommates about Latin Heat and all his great qualities. I’d go out with him again if he asked, but I don’t know if he’s boyfriend or best friend material. When my roomies asked about my overall impression, my first comment was, “He’s not M. Perfect.” And that pretty much sums it up…Even the greatest guy isn’t M. Perfect. He’s marked me somehow and I neither want to erase that mark or know how to.

But I wonder if I’ll ever hear from Latin Heat again or if he can somehow sense that I’ve been marked. I wonder if he knows that, metaphorically, I already belong to someone else.