Oh, the agony of waiting for a guy that I dig to call me! I go through several emotional stages in a very short amount of time. First, I’m optimistic and excited. He is most definitely going to call me. He said that he would call and why would he say that if he didn’t want to call. No worrying here! Cool as a cucumber…then my confidence starts to slip a little. I mean it has been a few days, we did have a good time, he said he was going to call. Here’s where things can get pretty bad. Sometimes, I’ll decide that I don’t need to sit around and wait for him to call me, I can call him! I’m an independent woman and he likes that about me. He probably was nervous and wasn’t sure if I really liked him. Yes, that’s it. At this point I have clearly entered the denial/delusional stage. I will come up with several reasons why he didn’t call (business meetings, family illness, shark attack, memory loss) and several reasons why I should clearly eschew all that I know about the art of dating and call him.
Even as I dial the numbers I know deep within me, if he really liked me and wanted to call he would have called. It really is just that simple. Yes, there is the nebulous concept of “how much time is appropriate before calling” and I’ve never really gotten a satisfactory answer. Sometime between 24 hours and 7 days seems to be the range of what is considered acceptable although I think it should be more than 24 hours but definitely less than 3 days.
Calling the guy has never worked – at least not for me. Sure, it may get me another phone conversation, maybe even one more date, but it has never led to anything more than that. The worst times are when there has been some type of intimacy or brief ‘relationship’ – then it’s as if I can’t bear not calling or emailing. It feels almost physically painful to not try to make this, whatever it is, work. Then when he doesn’t return said call or email, it’s 1000 times worse than him not having called or emailed at all. I could have pretended that he lost his phone or the ability to type or was crushed by a flying house. All far preferable than realizing that whatever we had meant more to me than it did to him, or even worse that he was totally repulsed by whatever happened between us and had no desire to have any future contact at all.
For the times when I wisely refuse to call first and decide to tough it out in case his idea of appropriate time for a callback is closer to 7 days or even a couple of weeks, the rapidity with which my thoughts exponentially become more and more negative is stunning. It varies from situation to situation but usually goes a little something like this: Step 1: Clearly there has to be something wrong with me that he didn’t call.
Step 2: Maybe he didn’t really like my sense of humor or maybe I came off as too aggressive or too smart or too stupid or too liberal or too passive or maybe I snorted too loudly when I laughed (or snorted at all).
Step 3: Its probably the size of my butt/thighs or the frizz of my hair or something wrong with my personal appearance.
Step 4: He never really meant to say he was going to call; he just thought I was so pathetic and he wanted an escape plan for that moment in time and he has since forgot about me and moved on to a thinner, hotter, nicer woman.
Occasionally I can get a little healthy anger at him for not calling and I’ll pretend to scrounge up some pride: if he doesn’t want to call me, then that is his loss! That’s right, there are plenty of other fish in the sea…or if not why would I want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me. I’ve attempted to shorten the whole cycle – from hope to denial to self-loathing to anger to acceptance—and I think I’ve gotten it down to as low as a week depending on how much a really liked the guy. But the length of time really depends on what else is going on in my life and if there are any other potentials on deck.
Now that I’ve taken you through all the painful steps of my mental (and I do mean mental) process dealing with the lack of communication, I think its only appropriate to tell you of one of the examples of the exact opposite of a minimalist communicator. Ethan* and I started chatting on Match and let me just say that his pictures were gorgeous. They didn’t look fake or male model-ish or anything – he just was a hottie. He came off in his profile with a nice mix of sensitive and witty with a touch of over-confidence. The emailing was great so we decided to exchange phone numbers. On the phone, the charm was gone and Ethan just sounded like a total weasel. We chatted for a while one Sunday evening and he talked about how luxurious his house was, how many HD TV’s he had in his house, his glamorous vacations, etc., etc. At this point although I was not enjoying the conversation, I still thought it would be cool to meet him in real life. I mean he was attractive and his personality was cool online; maybe he was just nervous and bad on the phone. How bad could he be? We arranged to meet up for a drink a few days later on Wednesday night.
Monday morning, Ethan texted me at 0618 saying “hi beautiful. have a great day. take care. can’t wait to see you.”
Monday morning, Ethan emailed me at 0915 saying he had been thinking about me all morning and hoped I was having a great day.
Monday afternoon, Ethan left me a voicemail around 1330 to see if everything was ok and again that he had been thinking about me.
Monday afternoon, Ethan sent another text at 1600 to say that he hoped work had gone ok and that I had a safe drive home.
Monday evening, Ethan called at 1900, concerned as he hadn’t heard from me all day.
Safe to day I was FREAKED. First of all, who texts someone at 0600 in the morning?!?! Then who texts and calls and emails multiple times when they have had no response?!? Crazy people, that’s who. So I didn’t call him back or text or anything, hoping foolishly that a lack of response would be a sign for him to knock it off.
Tuesday morning, Ethan texted me at 0610 saying “hi again beautiful. missed you yesterday. hope everything’s ok, can’t wait for tomorrow.
Tuesday morning, Ethan emailed me at 0830 and 1030. Tuesday afternoon, he left a voicemail at 1230 and 1630 with a text thrown in between. All with variations on a theme of he hoped I was having a good day, he missed me, why hadn’t I returned his calls/emails/texts, etc.
Tuesday night, I decided to put on my big girl pants and answer the phone when he called at 1830 and tell him to stop contacting me that it was freaking me out. Then I decided that he seemed fairly unstable and that a little white lie might be in order. I told him that I hated to do this to him but that my ex had just called me out of the blue on Monday and we had started talking and I didn’t think it was fair to string Ethan along when it looked like me and my ex would be getting back together. He got pretty pissy and said I didn’t know what I was missing and that I would come “crying back” to him when I found out what a mistake I had made but that I should just forget that he had ever given me his phone number. I had to bite my lip not to give away my lie by hysterical laughter. Instead I just said that he may be right but I had to give it a try.
I didn’t have time to discover my regret for passing up a gem like Ethan as pretty shortly after my encounter with him, there was a week where I went on 3 dates and was introduced to 3 other guys; all that happened in one exhausting five day period. Sadly I’m too exhausted now to do that story any justice, so it will have to wait for next time.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Tales of the Seductive Beekeeper and the Angry Midget
Throwing myself back into Match, I encountered a series of guys made me want to kick my own ass for not being into Phil.* Most would start out looking pretty good, but then a warning sign would pop up. These weren’t even subtle; an example of such a sign was a picture of one of the better prospects at the firing range, aiming the gun straight at the camera. I also got a lot of very earnest emails from gentlemen who didn’t have the best writing skills but wanted to assure me that they were looking for some serious, long-term commitments. I just found it difficult to engage them in conversation when in an introductory email my first couple of questions to a prospective are usually asking them questions relating to the information on their profile or how they spend their spare time and the first question one of these guys asked me in an introductory email was if I was “mature enough to commit to a stable relationship.”
I did start chatting with one that seemed really promising right before I went on a trip with my sister and our niece. This guy was an environmental economist (still not sure exactly what that meant) who was finishing up his doctoral studies. He looked pretty attractive in his photos, liked rockclimbing, and could carry on a decent email conversation. We made plans to meet when I got back from my trip but sadly another girl snagged him up first and he broke off our first date before it even happened. This happens fairly frequently – if there are any remotely desirable guys on a site, its almost like you need to arrange a first date immediately because if you don’t there are more women waiting in the wings who aren’t afraid to move with gusto.
The next guy from Match was also one that I didn’t meet in real life but that was a conscious decision on my part. He also was attractive but the caption for his profile was “want some sweet honey?” which made sense later when I saw that he was an amateur beekeeper. In his initial email to me he explained that he knew many things that he would do to me with honey. He also said he had a 16-month old son who he was anxious for me to meet. While the Seductive Beekeeper may be an awesome subject for one of those supermarket romance novels, I was more than a little creeped out by his approach. We hadn’t really spoken at all let alone met, yet in his first email he feels comfortable enough for me to meet his child and to offer to do unspeakable things to me with honey. Yuck on both accounts. I haven’t dated many guys with kids before but most seem to have brains enough to understand that they really should make sure that they know the woman well enough and care enough about her to introduce her into their children’s lives. On the honey thing, at that point I really hadn’t been propositioned that blatantly or oddly right off the bat and had no idea how to handle it other than ignoring the guy. That sort of approach would become more common once I joined a free dating website but at the time when I was approached by the beekeeper, it was my first really disconcerting pick-up line (note: now that enough time has passed, I have to say that I think Seductive Beekeeper would be an awesome name for a band or maybe a dance troupe).
What beats the Seductive Beekeeper in my bizarre little dating game? Answer: the angry midget. Not only did I meet the angry midget in real life but we actually dated for a few months. So here’s where I have to go for some truth in advertising and admit that technically he was not a midget. He was just a full head or more shorter than me (I’m about 5’5” if that helps with the visual). His defining character trait wasn’t even all that angry now that I think about it – it was more condescending and ultra-indie.
Now that I’ve admitted that Michael* was neither angry nor a midget I know I’ve disappointed some of you so let me make it up to you by describing some of our time together. We first met at a trendy new Latin place downtown; he was sitting on a stool at the bar (note: impossible to see how much shorter than you a guy is if he is already seated at a barstool). Anyway, we had some very pleasant beverages, a tasty dinner, and what was even more unusual we had an engaging and fun conversation. When we walked out together I was a little thrown by his height in relation to mine, but I had fun with him and I wasn’t going to underestimate the importance of that.
As the weeks went by I started to notice a couple of things. We didn’t really have actual give-and-take conversations. What we had was “The Michael Show” where he would perform various witty monologues about some band he had just heard, or the movie that I had to see, or the book I had to read and occasionally he would pause long enough for me to comment. I was merely making a cameo appearance on “The Michael Show;” the role I was playing wasn’t even enough to be considered a guest star. I also noticed that we really only had fun when we were drinking. A drink on a date can be a good thing; if you’re nervous, a sip or two can help you loosen up and make you a little less self-conscious. But if you can’t have fun together without it, that’s definitely a bad thing.
While I was discovering those facts, I also found that “The Michael Show” didn’t feature anything mainstream. If there was a movie or a band that more than a fringe group of people liked, it was conventional and boring. He had no time for anything that was enjoyable to a nebulous yet all-encompassing group known as “the masses.” He had practiced Bikram yoga until it became too popular. He had liked bands like O.A.R. until too many people started liking them. Any food or book or play or anything that I mentioned liking was far too conventional and ordinary for his extraordinary tastes.
That started to wear on me after a bit, but what sounded the final bell for me was when I realized that “The Michael Show” really was a one-man show that had no time for me, my friends, or his friends to compete for any of the spotlight or airtime. This happened on our last date when we went to a wine festival with some of my friends and we were too meet some of his friends there. He brought virtually no money with him so I ended up paying for everything. Actually he did have some money on him but he used that to buy a hat for himself. The wine festival was illuminating as I saw him make no attempt to talk with my friends. It wasn’t even because he was so engrossed with his own crowd or with me; he really just kept a steady stream of monologues that we were all just supposed to laugh at and enjoy, without really contributing anything else.
The final nail in the coffin was when we went back to his house after dropping my friends off at their home. He was giving me the tour of his new house and when we got to the guestroom he asked me in what seemed to be an ominous voice if I wanted to see what was in his closet. Now as anyone who has watched a horror movie will realize, that is when you run like crazy, screaming all the way. I backed up in apprehension and violently shook my head from left to right saying that I did not in fact want to see what was in his closet. He disregarded my unease and flung open to the door to reveal an almost 3ft high carafe with what looked like murky pond water and crap floating around in it. Trying not to vomit in my own mouth, I backed out of the room while he explained that it was Chinese fermented tea that he makes himself and bottles and that it was chock full of probiotic bacteria or something else that was supposed to be very good for me. He had a bottle he wanted us to drink and another for me to take home. I was already down the stairs with an eye on the front door saying that I was full from the wine festival and would have to forego that wonderful treat.
That was our last date. I had no desire to see him again and I think I was far too conventional to be of interest to him. I hope that he found his indie chic who only liked arthouse movies and music that sounds like someone is backing over a cat with a tractor and I hope that she has a powerful thirst for bacteria-laden beverages. I also hope that she doesn’t like to wear high heels.
Next up on my recap of match will be the stalker and my week of 1,000 guys (ok, I exaggerate slightly: it was really four dates and one set-up where I was to meet 3 potentials).
*Name has been changed
I did start chatting with one that seemed really promising right before I went on a trip with my sister and our niece. This guy was an environmental economist (still not sure exactly what that meant) who was finishing up his doctoral studies. He looked pretty attractive in his photos, liked rockclimbing, and could carry on a decent email conversation. We made plans to meet when I got back from my trip but sadly another girl snagged him up first and he broke off our first date before it even happened. This happens fairly frequently – if there are any remotely desirable guys on a site, its almost like you need to arrange a first date immediately because if you don’t there are more women waiting in the wings who aren’t afraid to move with gusto.
The next guy from Match was also one that I didn’t meet in real life but that was a conscious decision on my part. He also was attractive but the caption for his profile was “want some sweet honey?” which made sense later when I saw that he was an amateur beekeeper. In his initial email to me he explained that he knew many things that he would do to me with honey. He also said he had a 16-month old son who he was anxious for me to meet. While the Seductive Beekeeper may be an awesome subject for one of those supermarket romance novels, I was more than a little creeped out by his approach. We hadn’t really spoken at all let alone met, yet in his first email he feels comfortable enough for me to meet his child and to offer to do unspeakable things to me with honey. Yuck on both accounts. I haven’t dated many guys with kids before but most seem to have brains enough to understand that they really should make sure that they know the woman well enough and care enough about her to introduce her into their children’s lives. On the honey thing, at that point I really hadn’t been propositioned that blatantly or oddly right off the bat and had no idea how to handle it other than ignoring the guy. That sort of approach would become more common once I joined a free dating website but at the time when I was approached by the beekeeper, it was my first really disconcerting pick-up line (note: now that enough time has passed, I have to say that I think Seductive Beekeeper would be an awesome name for a band or maybe a dance troupe).
What beats the Seductive Beekeeper in my bizarre little dating game? Answer: the angry midget. Not only did I meet the angry midget in real life but we actually dated for a few months. So here’s where I have to go for some truth in advertising and admit that technically he was not a midget. He was just a full head or more shorter than me (I’m about 5’5” if that helps with the visual). His defining character trait wasn’t even all that angry now that I think about it – it was more condescending and ultra-indie.
Now that I’ve admitted that Michael* was neither angry nor a midget I know I’ve disappointed some of you so let me make it up to you by describing some of our time together. We first met at a trendy new Latin place downtown; he was sitting on a stool at the bar (note: impossible to see how much shorter than you a guy is if he is already seated at a barstool). Anyway, we had some very pleasant beverages, a tasty dinner, and what was even more unusual we had an engaging and fun conversation. When we walked out together I was a little thrown by his height in relation to mine, but I had fun with him and I wasn’t going to underestimate the importance of that.
As the weeks went by I started to notice a couple of things. We didn’t really have actual give-and-take conversations. What we had was “The Michael Show” where he would perform various witty monologues about some band he had just heard, or the movie that I had to see, or the book I had to read and occasionally he would pause long enough for me to comment. I was merely making a cameo appearance on “The Michael Show;” the role I was playing wasn’t even enough to be considered a guest star. I also noticed that we really only had fun when we were drinking. A drink on a date can be a good thing; if you’re nervous, a sip or two can help you loosen up and make you a little less self-conscious. But if you can’t have fun together without it, that’s definitely a bad thing.
While I was discovering those facts, I also found that “The Michael Show” didn’t feature anything mainstream. If there was a movie or a band that more than a fringe group of people liked, it was conventional and boring. He had no time for anything that was enjoyable to a nebulous yet all-encompassing group known as “the masses.” He had practiced Bikram yoga until it became too popular. He had liked bands like O.A.R. until too many people started liking them. Any food or book or play or anything that I mentioned liking was far too conventional and ordinary for his extraordinary tastes.
That started to wear on me after a bit, but what sounded the final bell for me was when I realized that “The Michael Show” really was a one-man show that had no time for me, my friends, or his friends to compete for any of the spotlight or airtime. This happened on our last date when we went to a wine festival with some of my friends and we were too meet some of his friends there. He brought virtually no money with him so I ended up paying for everything. Actually he did have some money on him but he used that to buy a hat for himself. The wine festival was illuminating as I saw him make no attempt to talk with my friends. It wasn’t even because he was so engrossed with his own crowd or with me; he really just kept a steady stream of monologues that we were all just supposed to laugh at and enjoy, without really contributing anything else.
The final nail in the coffin was when we went back to his house after dropping my friends off at their home. He was giving me the tour of his new house and when we got to the guestroom he asked me in what seemed to be an ominous voice if I wanted to see what was in his closet. Now as anyone who has watched a horror movie will realize, that is when you run like crazy, screaming all the way. I backed up in apprehension and violently shook my head from left to right saying that I did not in fact want to see what was in his closet. He disregarded my unease and flung open to the door to reveal an almost 3ft high carafe with what looked like murky pond water and crap floating around in it. Trying not to vomit in my own mouth, I backed out of the room while he explained that it was Chinese fermented tea that he makes himself and bottles and that it was chock full of probiotic bacteria or something else that was supposed to be very good for me. He had a bottle he wanted us to drink and another for me to take home. I was already down the stairs with an eye on the front door saying that I was full from the wine festival and would have to forego that wonderful treat.
That was our last date. I had no desire to see him again and I think I was far too conventional to be of interest to him. I hope that he found his indie chic who only liked arthouse movies and music that sounds like someone is backing over a cat with a tractor and I hope that she has a powerful thirst for bacteria-laden beverages. I also hope that she doesn’t like to wear high heels.
Next up on my recap of match will be the stalker and my week of 1,000 guys (ok, I exaggerate slightly: it was really four dates and one set-up where I was to meet 3 potentials).
*Name has been changed
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Beware the Ides of March
Looking back now I realize that I picked an inauspicious time to try Match. It was around mid-March 2009 and I was trying to rid myself of a ridiculous crush that was a complete no-hoper. The first guy I started chatting with had a screen name that let me know he owned a Mercedes Benz. He also managed to slip it into the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd emails. Plus it was in his profile on his regular email and other sites. I’m not 100% certain but I don’t think we actually met. Next I chatted with a comedian for a while. He had some family and work issues going on that always prevented us from actually meeting. I was beginning to think Match would not be the most productive of sites. Then I met Phil.*
Phil is arguably the nicest guy on the face of the earth. Seriously, I have spent a fair amount of time kicking my own ass for not being attracted to Phil. But that’s jumping ahead to the end of the story before I’ve even begun. We met for dinner and had a great conversation but I knew then that there was no zing. I really liked spending time with him though and hoped the zing would develop.
An example of the sweetness that is Phil: he gave me an Easter basket for like our third date. We had been talking the week before about our fave Easter candies and I guess I mentioned that beginning the previous year, my parents had stopped giving me my Easter basket and although it was completely irrational of me, I was bummed they stopped. I mean I am over 30 years old so it does seem silly to be upset that I no longer get marshmallow chicks and jelly beans nestled in that fake grass –you know the kind that refuses to be untangled from some of your candy so that in your mad rush for sugar you inadvertently eat the plastic. So instead of flowers, as Phil picked me up to take me to the movie theater where you can actually drink adult beverages as you watch a movie (SO awesome), he brought me a damn Easter basket. It was nice as hell and made me feel horrible since I was beginning to believe that the sparks were there for him but not for me.
We went out for a month or two longer. He even met some of my friends, an event I had been postponing for the other guys I had dated, mainly for my friends’ sakes. He even attempted to teach me to drive a manual transmission. The fact that we’re both alive is more a testament to his patience than to my prowess behind the wheel. When I think now of why I’m not attracted to him, I really can’t pinpoint an answer. He’s nice and smart and funny, but in a much more mellow way than I’m drawn too. I think that may be it – he is much lower energy than I am. In some combinations, that can work well, but it just never clicked with us, at least not for me. He is also one of the skinnier men on the face of the earth and the part of me that will forever be the overweight girl that none of the boys liked in school, has a fear of crushing such a man with one good hug.
I eventually told him that I didn’t feel ‘that way’ about him and that I was still harboring an absurd unrequited crush on someone else, but that I totally dug hanging out with Phil and hoped we could continue to do so. He and I were friends for a while afterwards, actually about a year. It was really cool having a guy that I could chat with, go to things with, try out new restaurants, endanger his life on the golf course, etc. I thought it was all going along pretty well but it turned out that he was hoping things would develop into something more. Once I knew that I felt incredibly guilty going out with him anymore – like I was leading him on even though I wasn’t meaning to.
It all came to a head around my birthday this year when he wanted to take me out to celebrate. He laid it all out there and said he didn’t think he could be ‘just friends,’ that he wanted more. Unfortunately he decided to do this the day after my aunt passed away. I wasn’t in the best of places emotionally but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to try for something that just wasn’t there, convince myself to feel something because someone else did, or pretend that this was a direction I wanted for my life.
That was the last time we spoke. I told him I valued his friendship and thought too much of him to mislead him, and I wished him luck and said goodbye. I’ve thought of him a few times, but I haven’t regretted my decision. I know that some of my friends and family believe that I am far too picky for my own good but I’m not willing to settle. I look at some of my friends with their husbands and see the relationships they have, the love, the laughs, the craziness, good times and bad. They didn’t settle for a guy just because he was good on paper. They just found their matches earlier than I have. Part of me still thinks he’s out there for me. And if not, I have way too much fun with my crazy life now to give up my time for someone just to not be alone.
For my readers out there if you’re still there and looking for more crazy tales of dating, fear not. Sadly for my dating life but excellent for my storytelling, the sweet, mentally balanced, and genuine niceness of Phil was an anomaly with my time with Match and beyond. Next on deck were seductive beekeeper, assorted crazies, and the indie-loving vertically-challenged gentleman I’ll continue referring to as the angry midget.
*Name has been changed
Phil is arguably the nicest guy on the face of the earth. Seriously, I have spent a fair amount of time kicking my own ass for not being attracted to Phil. But that’s jumping ahead to the end of the story before I’ve even begun. We met for dinner and had a great conversation but I knew then that there was no zing. I really liked spending time with him though and hoped the zing would develop.
An example of the sweetness that is Phil: he gave me an Easter basket for like our third date. We had been talking the week before about our fave Easter candies and I guess I mentioned that beginning the previous year, my parents had stopped giving me my Easter basket and although it was completely irrational of me, I was bummed they stopped. I mean I am over 30 years old so it does seem silly to be upset that I no longer get marshmallow chicks and jelly beans nestled in that fake grass –you know the kind that refuses to be untangled from some of your candy so that in your mad rush for sugar you inadvertently eat the plastic. So instead of flowers, as Phil picked me up to take me to the movie theater where you can actually drink adult beverages as you watch a movie (SO awesome), he brought me a damn Easter basket. It was nice as hell and made me feel horrible since I was beginning to believe that the sparks were there for him but not for me.
We went out for a month or two longer. He even met some of my friends, an event I had been postponing for the other guys I had dated, mainly for my friends’ sakes. He even attempted to teach me to drive a manual transmission. The fact that we’re both alive is more a testament to his patience than to my prowess behind the wheel. When I think now of why I’m not attracted to him, I really can’t pinpoint an answer. He’s nice and smart and funny, but in a much more mellow way than I’m drawn too. I think that may be it – he is much lower energy than I am. In some combinations, that can work well, but it just never clicked with us, at least not for me. He is also one of the skinnier men on the face of the earth and the part of me that will forever be the overweight girl that none of the boys liked in school, has a fear of crushing such a man with one good hug.
I eventually told him that I didn’t feel ‘that way’ about him and that I was still harboring an absurd unrequited crush on someone else, but that I totally dug hanging out with Phil and hoped we could continue to do so. He and I were friends for a while afterwards, actually about a year. It was really cool having a guy that I could chat with, go to things with, try out new restaurants, endanger his life on the golf course, etc. I thought it was all going along pretty well but it turned out that he was hoping things would develop into something more. Once I knew that I felt incredibly guilty going out with him anymore – like I was leading him on even though I wasn’t meaning to.
It all came to a head around my birthday this year when he wanted to take me out to celebrate. He laid it all out there and said he didn’t think he could be ‘just friends,’ that he wanted more. Unfortunately he decided to do this the day after my aunt passed away. I wasn’t in the best of places emotionally but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to try for something that just wasn’t there, convince myself to feel something because someone else did, or pretend that this was a direction I wanted for my life.
That was the last time we spoke. I told him I valued his friendship and thought too much of him to mislead him, and I wished him luck and said goodbye. I’ve thought of him a few times, but I haven’t regretted my decision. I know that some of my friends and family believe that I am far too picky for my own good but I’m not willing to settle. I look at some of my friends with their husbands and see the relationships they have, the love, the laughs, the craziness, good times and bad. They didn’t settle for a guy just because he was good on paper. They just found their matches earlier than I have. Part of me still thinks he’s out there for me. And if not, I have way too much fun with my crazy life now to give up my time for someone just to not be alone.
For my readers out there if you’re still there and looking for more crazy tales of dating, fear not. Sadly for my dating life but excellent for my storytelling, the sweet, mentally balanced, and genuine niceness of Phil was an anomaly with my time with Match and beyond. Next on deck were seductive beekeeper, assorted crazies, and the indie-loving vertically-challenged gentleman I’ll continue referring to as the angry midget.
*Name has been changed
Thursday, July 8, 2010
There Is Nothing to Fear…but Electricity Itself?
Alright, this post is to satisfy the curious who have been asking if my current dating life is as wacky as the previous stories I have told. To that question, I must quote the sage Whitney Houston as she exclaimed to her erstwhile husband in their brush with reality television: “Hell to the yeah!”
Before I finish telling you all about my times with Match (including of course the angry midget and the near albino), I have to write a quick update about my latest date that actually just took place tonight. Perhaps I sealed my own fate when I chose a nearby watering hole as our meeting point as that as been the site of some truly terrible dates – rageaholics, guys who wanted me to euthanize my dog, the guy with way too much cologne and 4 kids under the age of six, etc.
Regardless, we met for what I thought would be just a drink and then he sneaked dinner in on me. I’m against dinner on a first date. Ideally, first dates would be coffee. Coffee is brief and has a definitive end. Failing that, meeting up for a drink after work is acceptable too. I don’t like to commit to a full meal until I know the guy can carry on a conversation and isn’t totally psychotic. But Sam* sneaked dinner in by putting our names in for a table when I was trying to head to the bar.
Like several of the other guys I’ve met on these sites, he seemed like a completely nice guy. He also was highly nervous – very fidgety, a little awkward in the conversational skills area and totally devoid of a sense of humor, I hoped he would warm up after a while. Then for a moment I feared that not only wouldn’t he loosen up but that he would also be boring and too normal. Ha.
I forget how this conversation started but he mentioned that he was afraid of heights. I hadn’t asked him about his fears as that’s a totally strange line of discussion for a first date, so I really can’t remember why it came up. I think it was because we were talking about doing home renovation and how he didn’t want to do his exterior painting as he was afraid of heights. That isn’t the weirdest of fears so I was a little blown away when he said that his fear of heights couldn’t compare to his fear of electricity.
Yep, that’s right. He is afraid of electricity. Like really afraid. I commented that it must be difficult to deal with since he works in computer science and last time I checked there were very few computers that ran without electricity. Plus there’s very few places you can go that don’t have electricity and I have been extremely grateful for electricity and the air conditioning it powers in this sauna-like heat wave we’ve been having. But yes, he had a pretty serious fear of electricity and being electrocuted. I didn’t want to seem unkind by mocking a serious fear but really? REALLY!?!?!? I was also thrown for a loop when he asked me what my “crippling fears” were. I almost said dates with awkward men with no conversational savvy but again this seemed cruel.
The rest of the date unraveled much the way I would have expected. After he asked me about my dog, I asked him if he had any pets and he said that he didn’t believe in getting pets until he was married and had a family. He asked me if I believed in having serious relationships or if I liked casual dating as he only liked having serious relationships. He had no hobbies other than working on computers outside of work, not a lot of friends in the area to hang out with and had lost touch with his friends outside of the area. Oh and he hates to travel. So no, sadly we weren’t the best of matches. Definitely no sparks.
Before I finish telling you all about my times with Match (including of course the angry midget and the near albino), I have to write a quick update about my latest date that actually just took place tonight. Perhaps I sealed my own fate when I chose a nearby watering hole as our meeting point as that as been the site of some truly terrible dates – rageaholics, guys who wanted me to euthanize my dog, the guy with way too much cologne and 4 kids under the age of six, etc.
Regardless, we met for what I thought would be just a drink and then he sneaked dinner in on me. I’m against dinner on a first date. Ideally, first dates would be coffee. Coffee is brief and has a definitive end. Failing that, meeting up for a drink after work is acceptable too. I don’t like to commit to a full meal until I know the guy can carry on a conversation and isn’t totally psychotic. But Sam* sneaked dinner in by putting our names in for a table when I was trying to head to the bar.
Like several of the other guys I’ve met on these sites, he seemed like a completely nice guy. He also was highly nervous – very fidgety, a little awkward in the conversational skills area and totally devoid of a sense of humor, I hoped he would warm up after a while. Then for a moment I feared that not only wouldn’t he loosen up but that he would also be boring and too normal. Ha.
I forget how this conversation started but he mentioned that he was afraid of heights. I hadn’t asked him about his fears as that’s a totally strange line of discussion for a first date, so I really can’t remember why it came up. I think it was because we were talking about doing home renovation and how he didn’t want to do his exterior painting as he was afraid of heights. That isn’t the weirdest of fears so I was a little blown away when he said that his fear of heights couldn’t compare to his fear of electricity.
Yep, that’s right. He is afraid of electricity. Like really afraid. I commented that it must be difficult to deal with since he works in computer science and last time I checked there were very few computers that ran without electricity. Plus there’s very few places you can go that don’t have electricity and I have been extremely grateful for electricity and the air conditioning it powers in this sauna-like heat wave we’ve been having. But yes, he had a pretty serious fear of electricity and being electrocuted. I didn’t want to seem unkind by mocking a serious fear but really? REALLY!?!?!? I was also thrown for a loop when he asked me what my “crippling fears” were. I almost said dates with awkward men with no conversational savvy but again this seemed cruel.
The rest of the date unraveled much the way I would have expected. After he asked me about my dog, I asked him if he had any pets and he said that he didn’t believe in getting pets until he was married and had a family. He asked me if I believed in having serious relationships or if I liked casual dating as he only liked having serious relationships. He had no hobbies other than working on computers outside of work, not a lot of friends in the area to hang out with and had lost touch with his friends outside of the area. Oh and he hates to travel. So no, sadly we weren’t the best of matches. Definitely no sparks.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Is a Picture Still Worth 1000 Words If Taken with a Cell Phone Camera?
It was with no small amount of reluctance that I tried Match. For some reason it seemed like crossing a line. I’m not sure why after IJL, Cath Singles, and eHarm, that Match seemed like it would be much worse. Maybe it was that I had tried so many things with not the best results and was afraid that if I tried a few more I’d be out of things to try and what then? Whatever the reason, I threw caution to the wind and signed up to become a member.
Match seemed simpler than eHarmony but also like I had to do more of the work. Sure it was easier to build a profile on Match then to go through and answer the 700 bajillion questions and essays and all that eHarmony makes you fill in to find your perfect match. But once I had built the profile I had to start searching through guys’ profiles and decide if there were any that I wanted to try to chat up.
There was also a lot more sleaze on Match than on the other sites. One of the guys that “winked” at me (code on Match for informally contacting someone without actually taking the time to write anything – its like texting a smiley face rather than calling someone and having a conversation with them), this guy described himself as “suffering from a case of macrophallus.”
There were also quite a few guys who liked to take pictures of themselves shirtless, staring into a bathroom mirror, with their own cell phone cameras.
You can tell a lot about a man by which pictures he posts with his profile. After a while I determined that there was a formula that most men followed. There was at least one photo of travels to exotic locations, with or without the guy + one photo of guy with adorable pet (usually dog) + one or more photos of guy doing manly, adventurous activities. If the guy wanted to portray his domestic or gourmet side, there may be a picture of him drinking wine or cooking. There also may be a picture of him with babies or small children to show that he too likes to think about the future and is unafraid of commitment. The guys who are not so into commitment will have pictures of themselves at a beach with a bunch of co-ed friends.
I never talked to a guy who didn’t have at least one picture. This was mainly because I had heard that guys who were married got profiles on dating websites and never put their pictures so that their spouses couldn’t find them. But also because at some point, you have to be willing to meet up in “the real world” and you should be able to have a reasonable expectation of what the guy looks like. I would later be pursued by a guy on OkCupid who I’m pretty sure was married and had a headless picture of himself as his profile pic. It was highly disturbing. It was even more disturbing when he told me that my eyes were sensitive and adventurous and that he would be visiting DC for a week and would love to meet up with me or even stay at my house.
The scariest picture I would ever see would be a picture of a woman on a motorcycle followed by a picture of the guy and the same woman on the motorcycle. Why that was so frightening was that the pictures belonged to a polygamist who bragged his wife was bisexual and they were looking for someone to help spice up their relationship.
Just as important as the pictures, I learned how to read a guy’s profile and determine if there was any real reason to attempt to meet him in the real world. I paid attention to the stuff that he included as well as the stuff he didn’t. Some guys barely put 3 words together. If they’re not going to spend a little time and effort on a profile that would be their first introduction to a potential date, that can be indicative of how much attention they pay to the date once they actually meet. I also pay attention to spelling and grammar – spell check is way too easy to be completely ignored.
Then I look for the harder to define qualities of a profile. Sense of humor is hugely important. I like a little offbeat wackiness thrown in there. Confidence is also important, but that is a fine line to walk as it can quickly slide into arrogance. I like it if the section of what he’s reading or watching these days, there’s a book thrown in there somewhere and if his hobbies include more than drinking with his pals. I don’t care for blatant mushiness or greeting card/trashy novel attempts to appear romantic. Other than that, I’m still learning about what makes up a profile of a guy that I want to meet.
I don’t remember all the guys that I emailed with on Match but I do remember the ones I spoke with and/or met in person. There are some that I would like to forget, but one or two were pretty good guys. Next post I’ll introduce you to Early Bird Ian and the nicest guy in the world Allen, but I’ll save the angry midget and some of the others for later.
Match seemed simpler than eHarmony but also like I had to do more of the work. Sure it was easier to build a profile on Match then to go through and answer the 700 bajillion questions and essays and all that eHarmony makes you fill in to find your perfect match. But once I had built the profile I had to start searching through guys’ profiles and decide if there were any that I wanted to try to chat up.
There was also a lot more sleaze on Match than on the other sites. One of the guys that “winked” at me (code on Match for informally contacting someone without actually taking the time to write anything – its like texting a smiley face rather than calling someone and having a conversation with them), this guy described himself as “suffering from a case of macrophallus.”
There were also quite a few guys who liked to take pictures of themselves shirtless, staring into a bathroom mirror, with their own cell phone cameras.
You can tell a lot about a man by which pictures he posts with his profile. After a while I determined that there was a formula that most men followed. There was at least one photo of travels to exotic locations, with or without the guy + one photo of guy with adorable pet (usually dog) + one or more photos of guy doing manly, adventurous activities. If the guy wanted to portray his domestic or gourmet side, there may be a picture of him drinking wine or cooking. There also may be a picture of him with babies or small children to show that he too likes to think about the future and is unafraid of commitment. The guys who are not so into commitment will have pictures of themselves at a beach with a bunch of co-ed friends.
I never talked to a guy who didn’t have at least one picture. This was mainly because I had heard that guys who were married got profiles on dating websites and never put their pictures so that their spouses couldn’t find them. But also because at some point, you have to be willing to meet up in “the real world” and you should be able to have a reasonable expectation of what the guy looks like. I would later be pursued by a guy on OkCupid who I’m pretty sure was married and had a headless picture of himself as his profile pic. It was highly disturbing. It was even more disturbing when he told me that my eyes were sensitive and adventurous and that he would be visiting DC for a week and would love to meet up with me or even stay at my house.
The scariest picture I would ever see would be a picture of a woman on a motorcycle followed by a picture of the guy and the same woman on the motorcycle. Why that was so frightening was that the pictures belonged to a polygamist who bragged his wife was bisexual and they were looking for someone to help spice up their relationship.
Just as important as the pictures, I learned how to read a guy’s profile and determine if there was any real reason to attempt to meet him in the real world. I paid attention to the stuff that he included as well as the stuff he didn’t. Some guys barely put 3 words together. If they’re not going to spend a little time and effort on a profile that would be their first introduction to a potential date, that can be indicative of how much attention they pay to the date once they actually meet. I also pay attention to spelling and grammar – spell check is way too easy to be completely ignored.
Then I look for the harder to define qualities of a profile. Sense of humor is hugely important. I like a little offbeat wackiness thrown in there. Confidence is also important, but that is a fine line to walk as it can quickly slide into arrogance. I like it if the section of what he’s reading or watching these days, there’s a book thrown in there somewhere and if his hobbies include more than drinking with his pals. I don’t care for blatant mushiness or greeting card/trashy novel attempts to appear romantic. Other than that, I’m still learning about what makes up a profile of a guy that I want to meet.
I don’t remember all the guys that I emailed with on Match but I do remember the ones I spoke with and/or met in person. There are some that I would like to forget, but one or two were pretty good guys. Next post I’ll introduce you to Early Bird Ian and the nicest guy in the world Allen, but I’ll save the angry midget and some of the others for later.
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