To refresh your memories, I have been communicating for what I now realize has been over seven weeks with someone who I feared may have been a satanic worshipper and who really seemed to have some sort of obsession with poop (see Deal with the Devil for the full back story). That was the worst case scenario as far as I could tell. The best case scenario was just that he was an extremely nervous individual who made a really poor decision in choosing his email address and who wasn’t too good at communicating on email. Or the phone. And was prone to using the word ‘poop’ a lot when he was nervous. Which was most of the time.
Fast forward to this past weekend: I’m incredibly stressed at work and have no time to sleep or think or take reasonable care of myself so this of course made it the most perfect time ever to meet my match, Erik*, in real life. Yep, there is virtually no situation that I can’t take and make it more difficult or prone to disaster. But I had decided enough was enough, I had to meet him and see once and for all what the deal was; plus his requests to meet to meet in real life had reached a fevered pitch and this seemed the best way to end that.
We decided to meet on Sunday for lunch. At high noon. (cue the Western high noon shootout music). He chose a slightly upscale-ish fast food joint. Yep, fast food. As in wicked cheap. And no booze. Wincing silently, I agree to meet him there.
When I arrive, there were no visible signs of satanic worship on his person. I don’t know what I was expecting but there were no pentagrams or triple 6’s. He was wearing a black sweatshirt but that was as dark as he got. He also was beyond highly nervous, the kind with the clammy handshake and faint sheen on his forehead. In what was a further indicator that this was not going to be the best date ever, he didn’t pay for my lunch or even offer to in spite of the fact that the total came to about $5.00.
What followed was a fairly reasonable conversation, in terms of not talking about the devil or poop, but all in all was kind of …well, bland and slightly depressing. He was really nervous and a pretty negative person, but not evil. He didn’t really have any interests or hobbies other than work and working out. He said all his friends had abandoned him by getting married and having kids and not having any time to spend with him. I tried to pick up the conversation by appearing interested and asking him questions that I thought would engender more positive conversation, but it fell flat. Even when I tried to commend him for being such a good guy and helping his mom the day before, he sighed and said he didn’t want to help her but she made him.
But I just kept thinking “well, at least he doesn’t seem satanic. And he hasn’t mentioned poop either, so that’s gotta count for something….right?” That’s the problem with going on these dates. They make me question what I had thought were reasonable expectations to the point where it feels like I need to just lower my standards to: single, not evil, can carry on a conversation that doesn’t make me wince/vomit/cry. When my goal is just to rate my dates above “licking my hair upon first meeting me” OR “doesn’t hate food and people” OR “doesn’t make me afraid for my personal safety” OR “doesn’t pee in plain sight of the customers of the nice restaurant where we just dined,” maybe that’s when its time to call it a day and give up the whole dating scene (see “The Eternal Truth of Seinfeld and Parisian Greetings” OR “Eating Before Dinner and Worst Date EVER” OR “At Least I Got To Hit Some Balls” OR “What Eventually Drove Me to the Internet” for more on those respective dates).
*Name has been changed.
No comments:
Post a Comment