Hard to please

I tentatively went on another "date". It wasn't a date in the French way- it was a pizza with a guy from my economics class. But I know he's interested. So in a way it was a date.
Anyhow, it went well compared to my Groping Misadventure. He's polite and well-spoken. He helped me in and out of my coat. He pulled my chair back for me. He opens doors. He gave me a ride home. He asked me thoughtful questions about political topics; we're both history nerds and he is a musician. We even like the same kind of rock and roll.

So why am I complaining?

I'm not. He was nice. But he had no edge to him. He was too slow for me. It felt like driving a Moped after being used to a Yamaha. He didn't see ahead in the conversation, didn't see the jokes, wasn't funny or witty. I was in control of the evening, and I like being surprised once in a while.

Anyhow, definite upgrade from last time. He invited me to go to an open-mike jazz evening where he will be playing with his band. I may go.

But I'm hard to please, clearly. X is a hard act to follow.