Not-so-Great Expectations

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.

Stalking the Dog Whisperer

I’m not the most observant woman when it comes to noticing a cute, available guy when I see one in real life.  Therefore, it should not come as a surprise that it took me a while to notice the cutie with the golden retriever living just a few hundred feet away from me.  Even so I did not realize that he had been living in the neighborhood almost three years before I met him.  I am also quite possibly the world’s worst flirt –not as in, wow that woman is outrageously flirtatious! More like, when I don’t think I’m being flirty I’m apparently all “come hither” and when I actually attempt to flirt, it’s hideous and grotesque.  These things have conspired to ruin my relationship with the dog whisperer before it even got started.

“Dog Whisperer” is the code name my friend and neighbor gave the cutie.  I think she actually noticed him first and staked him out for me months and months ago.  This is the kind of friend she is: when she saw the hot runner in our neighborhood, she attempted to chase him down for me despite the fact that she was approximately 8 months pregnant and walking her fairly sizable Labrador.  When I asked her what she was going to do if she actually caught him, she replied matter-of-factly that she was going to “bring him to me.”  These are the actions of a true, and at the time hormonally charged, friend.  The image of him turning around all wide-eyed to see a pregnant stranger and her big black dog charging after him still makes me smile.

So at some point, I think in the late summer, we both noticed “DW” walking his beautiful golden retriever.  They looked like an L.L. Bean ad come to life.  My friend and I started plotting ways I could throw myself into his path.  This became hugely complicated by the fact that when they first met, my dog HATED his dog.  Ok, so maybe Charlie (my dog) didn’t hate the golden, but he really didn’t like him.  He’d bark and pull at his leash and even growled once.  It was really a hindrance to my not-so-burgeoning romance. 

My friend was undeterred though and took it as her mission to introduce herself and her dog to DW and find ways to “naturally” bring me up in their conversations.  She was a force to be reckoned with and would insert my name and presence into conversation even if it seemed to be a stretch.  When he was talking to her about his commute, she said “Oh you know who has a bad commute too?  Adrienne! You know Adrienne, right?” and then would sing my praises.  When he talked about his dog, she would bring up me and Charlie.  I really think at one point he said he had to go to the store and she might have said something like “Oh, you know who just went to the store, Adrienne! You know Adrienne, right?”  In fact, once when she was walking toward him determined to bring me up again, a bug flew into her eye and she kept talking about me even though tears were streaming out her eye as she attempted to dislodge the insect. 

That time she invited him to a cookout at her house in the early fall which thankfully he did not attend.  I say thankfully as it ended up being me and like 4 married couples and several toddlers and infants.  Not exactly the best scene to casually strike up a conversation and win him over with my feminine wiles.  Hi! I’m the only single woman in the room!  Come! Talk to me!  Why are you running away?!?!

In the meantime, I was working my butt off at trying to get Charlie to be friendlier to DW’s dog.  I worked with Charlie on every walk, giving him treats when we saw other dogs, praising him when he didn’t bark or growl, and trying to reinforce positive thoughts about golden retrievers by comparing DW’s dog to one of Charlie’s favorite girl dogs, the golden retriever of one of my best friends.  It was more than a little insane, but it actually worked.  Charlie started to like DW’s dog and DW and I had several conversations when we met up walking in the neighborhood. 

I’m not that great at stalking though.  This is probably not a bad thing, but it has made it tougher to find casual ways to throw myself into DW’s path.  I still haven’t even established if he has a girlfriend.  I’m pretty sure he was dating this total skank in the fall.  Ok, I don’t know she was a total skank.  But she was all flippy with her blond hair and had this annoying “I’m so fun-loving” loud laugh that she would laugh when she flipped her hair.  Or at least she did the one day I saw her hanging all over him. 

I hadn’t seen her since that one time and haven’t seen any other women hanging around so I hadn’t given up hope.  I just couldn’t figure out how to get him to think of me in a way other than neighbor woman whose dog used to despise his dog. 

Our last series of interactions was at first highly positive and then deeply disappointing.  When it snowed like an absurd amount a few weeks ago, I was trying to dig out in the morning and head off to work.  DW came over and offered to help me finish my car.  Since it was like half a foot of snow, it took quite a while and we had a pretty great conversation.  I found out some more about him, he asked questions about me, and it turns out we had a lot in common and a lot to talk about.  He even helped me when I wanted to dig out one of my neighbor’s cars as her husband had the flu and she was at her wit’s ends as the kids were sick too. 

Here was my in!  I finally figured out how to woo him in a way where I wouldn’t end up freaking him out by my horrible attempts at flirting.  I don’t like to brag, but I am a pretty mean baker.  I can definitely hold my own when it comes to delicious baked goodness, much to the detriment of my own hips.  Anyway, I decided I would bake DW something to thank him for helping me dig. 

I seriously contemplated what I should bake him.  It had to be homemade but not too fussy –plus what if he had bizarre allergies or food aversions?  I decided to go with a classic: chocolate chip cookies.   This way, I could give some to him and some to a couple friends.  They turned out pretty good, although I burned quite a few.  I kept the burnt ones for myself and then took the rest out to deliver.   I went to my friends’ first and then made my way to DW’s casa. 

I was more than a little nervous as I knocked on his door a few Sunday nights ago.  His dog was definitely excited to see me, but DW seemed a little nonplussed.  I’m pretty sure my face was the color of a fire engine and I stammered something about wanting to thank him for helping me dig out the cars and that I had made some chocolate chip cookies and I hoped that he liked them.  And then….he invited me in, told me I was the woman he’d been searching his entire life for, and swept me up in his arms, and we laughed about how we’d tell the drawn out story of how we met to our future grandkids.

Well, that’s what would have happened had my life been one of the numerous Hallmark or Lifetime Valentine’s Day movies that have been advertised for the past week or so.  The camera would pan to DW and I walking off into the sunset with our dogs.  What actually happened was that he thanked me for the cookies, I stood there with what I fear was a ridiculously hopeful expression on my face, there was a slightly awkward pause, and then he closed the door.

And that’s been that.  I haven’t really seen him since then.  Then again, I’ve been working pretty much nonstop and have been struck with yet another cold, but I still haven’t talked to or even really seen DW or his overly perfect golden.  And to be truthful, I have to admit that what really ticked me off was that I wasted all my good cookies on him and was left with only the burnt ones.  I’m sure there’s a metaphor or life lesson in there somewhere.

In the meantime, I did manage to have at least one phone conversation with Erik* (see Deal with the Devil) where he did not mention poop or satan, so that’s good news I guess.  We still haven’t met in real life, but hopefully if works calms down and I stop sounding like Elmer Fudd with this head cold, we’ll be able to meet up for a drink or coffee or something innocuous like that.  But I’ll probably continue to pathetically sigh whenever I see DW’s house or catch a glimpse of him walking along with his dog.  

*Name has been changed.

Deal with the Devil?

It was only a matter of time before I ended up dating a potential satanic worshipper.  I mean, if you look at the negatively spiraling trends evidenced in my dating history, it was bound to happen.  Actually I thought I was headed toward a sadist who collected those Precious Moments dolls with the big scary eyes or even a cross-dressing Nazi taxidermist.  But apparently I was destined for another type of extreme weirdness and awfulness.

To be fair, I don’t know that he is actually a satanic worshipper.  Obviously, if I knew that for certain, I would have ceased all conversation with this latest match.  However, right now I’m just suspicious and attempting not to rule out a guy without even having met him. 

Here are the facts as far as I know them: he has the number “666” in his email address.  This was something I didn’t realize until after we had been communicating through Physics* dating site for a few weeks.  On that site, I simply new him as Erik.*  When I was getting ready to cancel my membership on Physics* I gave him my real life email address only to discover his bizarrely named email account.  I decided to be up front about it and ask him.  He said that he just picked it because it was an easy number to remember and didn’t select it for any satanic purposes.  That seemed like a long shot but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for now and continue chatting with him on email and phone. 

So yes, in what may have been a tragically misguided decision, I called him when he gave me his digits and he now has my digits as well.  To date, he has proved to be a persistent correspondent, texting and calling with great regularity.  About our phone conversations, I must say this: we have had two lengthy phone calls and during both of those conversations he used the word “poop” a little too much for my liking (as in any uses of the word would have been strange for a 1^st or 2^nd phone conversation).  

Here was the context: in the first conversation, after saying how he had been reluctant to get a pet since he lived alone and it didn’t seem fair to the dog (yes, at this point I did remind him that I also live alone and have a dog and didn’t feel that it was unfair to my dog), he asked if I always came home to a house full of poop.  I assured him that this was not the case and tried to change the subject, but he really couldn’t let it go.  At some point he did realize that he was talking about feces an awful lot for a first phone call with a woman that he might potentially want to date, but it took a while to get there. 

In the second conversation, which just happened this evening, when we were talking about our weekends and I mentioned what a pain it was that the sidewalks were still so heavily snow and ice covered as it made it difficult to borderline dangerous to walk my dog, he asked if I always had to carry poop bags and pick up my dog’s poop.  Again at some point he realized he was saying the word “poop” a lot, but it was as if he couldn’t help himself. 

And yet I still haven’t thrown in the towel with this one.  I’m not sure why exactly.  Its like I really have to at least meet him in real life to see if he’s just been extremely nervous and made very poor decisions in both his phone conversation and selection of email address. 

In other news, Twilight guy may be making a reappearance.  I need to determine if he had a sufficient reason for standing me up (see “Curse of the Toxic Wine Bar: Vampires and Manscaping” for more info on him)…or if Eric* makes me reevaluate what I’m willing to forgive and forget.

*Name has been changed.

Curse of the Toxic Wine Bar: Vampires and Manscaping

Riddle: What is worse than being stood up by a guy that you had at best lukewarm feelings about? 

Answer: Being stood up by TWO guys that you had at best lukewarm feelings about.

In my previous post where I compared the various dating services I’ve tried (“Clash of the Titans: A Comparative Analysis of Dating Services”), I mentioned that I recently had been stood up by a guy who admitted his love of the Twilight saga.  What I didn’t know when I wrote that post was that the following day, I would be trapped in the “Groundhog’s Day” of dating and would be stood up the following day by a different guy.  I fear I may be getting ahead of myself as usual, so let’s go back to the beginning of the story.

I hadn’t been too successful with my matches on Physics.* First there was the chinchilla neuterer (see “Two Things I Never Thought I’d Hear”).  Then I had one good date with a guy I wasn’t so sure about who we ended up playing phone and email tag, we never were able to arrange our second date.  I had what I thought was a fantastic date with another guy who said he wanted to meet up again, asked me when I was free, and then never contacted me again (see “I Kinda Liked It Better When My Dates Were Insane” for more details on both these Princes of Mediocrity).

That brings us to December 2010/January 2011 and my two first dates at a seemingly lovely wine bar.  So the first first date was with Franklin.*  We had exchanged some great emails and I was really looking forward to meeting him.  Our date was a lot of fun but I have to admit, there really weren’t any sparks.  I was undeterred though as nerves often come into play on a first date and Franklin* seemed like a catch.  He was a great conversationalist and had a ton of interesting hobbies.  In addition to his athletic hobbies (volleyball, kayaking, running), he played really obscure board games with his friends.  Some sort of game where you win sheep instead of money…I can’t remember the name but the way he described it, it sounded hysterical. 

The only moment that gave me any pause was at the end of the date.  He asked me about my New Year’s Eve plans and I told him (“South Pacific” at the Kennedy Center with a friend) and I asked about his plans.  He said that friends were coming over to play bizarre board games and make some Korean soup and just hang out.  He then mentioned that they might watch Eclipse (for the uninitiated, Eclipse is the third movie in the “Twilight” saga).  I assumed he had to be kidding but he assured me that he wasn’t but that his friends weren’t too excited by the idea.  Franklin* was really into it though and admitted that he was a Twilight fan and that he “loved vampires.”

Here is where I admit to you yet another of my guilty pleasures/secret shames.  I have read all the Twilight saga books and have seen the three movies that have been released thus far.  I’m severely chagrined to admit this as I made so much fun of a friend who was a self-proclaimed “Twi-hard” and member of “Team Edward.”  I mocked her incessantly for a loooong time for being into books and movies about sullen teenagers, vampires, and werewolves.  And then I made the mistake of reading the books.  They are, as another friend described them, “love crack.”  Unbelievably addictive and you know it’s so bad for you but you can’t stop.  My excuse is that I’m a chic and, although I try to deny it, a hopeless romantic.  I don’t know what Franklin’s* excuse was. 

Anyway, so right after I went out with Franklin* he went on a vacation to go snowboarding with some friends in Colorado.  But before he left, he indicated that he had a great time and wanted to go out again.  After some negotiating we settled on our next date being on Sunday, 16 January, when he returned from his trip.  He assured me that he’d when he got back to town that weekend and we’d sort out the details.

Fast-forward to a week after my first date with Franklin* when I was due to meet Chip* at the very same wine bar where I had met Franklin.*  I’ve already described that date with him in the post To Text or Not to Text.  To briefly recap, prior to our somewhat non-thrilling date Chip* admitted that he had his eyebrows waxed and was a fan of facials and massages, our date itself was just kind of so-so, then he sort of abruptly ended our date, texting me afterward to ask me in the 2011 version of a note that you’d exchange in middle school (you know the type I’m talking about: Do you like me? Circle Yes or No), “Do you want to go out again?” I decided what the hell and he and I chatted once or twice after to arrange our next date for Monday, 17 January.

As the fateful dates approached, I hadn’t talked with either of the guys but decided to keep a brief window on each day free in case they actually did get in touch.  I didn’t not meet up or hang out with friends as a result of these planned dates but I did move some plans around for these two second dates.  And then I never heard from either guy again. 

I wasn’t really all that upset but I have to admit that my pride is a little bruised.  As is often the moral of my dating story, of course it could have been worse.  I could have been waiting at the restaurant/movie theater/club/bar/wherever by myself with them never showing.  I could have really, really liked them and then they didn’t show.  But still, being stood up kinda sucks and as with other failed dates, I have to start to wonder, what is it about me that makes this kind of stuff happen?  Did I jinx it by closely arranging dates with two different guys at the same location?  Is there some bad dating juju at that wine bar?  Were those initial moments of doubt –first with the proclaimed love of vampires and secondly with the tendency for manscaping—really warning signs?  And where do I go from here? 

Of course, I don’t know the answers to those questions.  And maybe they’re not even the right questions to be asking.  For now, I’ll stop my ceaseless Riddler-like brain and call it a night.  Immediately after the dates that never were, I caught some sort of flu/hideous virus and was insanely ill for about the past week or so, therefore, I will consider myself purged of the bad dating germs and ready to start new and fresh whenever I figure out my next move in the extreme sport of dating.

*Name has been changed.

Clash of the Titans: A Comparative Analysis of Dating Services

As I’m preparing to resign my Physics* membership and have just been stood up by a guy who told me that he was a fan of the Twilight saga and loved vampires, I decided it was time to take a step back and assess the successes and failures of the various dating ventures I’ve attempted.  (Note: you haven’t heard about the Twilight guy yet; he’s different from the texting guy I wrote about most recently who is not a stranger to eyebrow waxing.  I hadn’t written about Mr. Twilight yet as he seemed more promising but that was before he forgot that we were supposed to go on a date yesterday so he may pop up in my next post.)

This assessment is not an easy enterprise for a few reasons.  First of all, my memory is far from perfect and although I’ve been more meticulous with recording dating details since starting this blog, there are definite blurry spots.  Secondly, how do you analyze the benefits and limitations of a dating service?  I wanted to approach this at least pseudo-scientifically in terms of rating each service according to a common set of standards but I wasn’t sure what criteria I should measure.  Lastly, this is a hard thing to quantify.  I mean ideally success would be measured by me meeting “The One,” if such a man exists, so is anything less than that considered a failure?  I don’t think so but what I’m attempting is to make something highly subjective a little more objective and that is tricky.

The criteria I’ve chosen in this comparative analysis include price (measured in terms of how many cocktails I could have bought instead of joining the service), length of membership, total number of matches, % of matches that resulted in 2^nd dates, % of matches that resulted in 3 dates or more, mental/emotional stability of matches (measured by % of matches that made me fear for my safety, question my sanity for continuing to date, etc.), % of matches that I actually wanted to call me but they dropped off the face of the earth, % of matches that attempted some form of stalking (physical or electronic), % of dates the waitress looked either sympathetic to my plight or outright afraid of my date, my idiocy factor (% of awesome guys that I wish I was attracted to), and uniqueness of matches (matches that were interesting/different and in a way that did not make me fear for my safety).

For the purpose of this analysis and because I really can’t remember every single match I’ve communicated with through the various services, I’m defining “match” as “guy the service set me up with that I actually met in real life or that we communicated with for extended period of time over multiple media (dating service, phonecon, email, and/or text)”  And this should go without saying as this is a ridiculously subjective attempt to measure the success of my dating life with imprecise records and no scientific methodology, and all numbers and ratings are certainly approximate at best.

I’m also including the three set-ups that I can remember during this period.  I’m defining set-up as a guy my friend deliberately introduced me to for the purpose of meeting and dating (this is to exclude the happy hours I was invited to in order to meet a few guys but where none of them was specifically aware that they were intended for me).  These gentlemen have been spread throughout my previous posts and more information on two of them can be found in “It’s Raining Men: Hallelujah?" and "Matchmaker, Find me a Blowtorch.”  I don’t think I ever wrote about the other guy a friend set me up with who fell down the awesome single guy black hole after what I thought was a pretty great 3hr long first date and after he texted me to say that he definitely wanted to meet up again.  After that, he was never to be heard from again.  

Again, I must say that I am grateful to my friends for setting me up on these dates.  When looking at the numbers or talking about the single guy black hole where some of the dates fell, it might seem like I don't appreciate the efforts of my friends but this couldn't be further from the case.  It must be a very daunting task to match a friend and feel responsible for how things work out but in every case I know my friends had my best interests at heart and I don't regret going on a single one of those dates.

Legend of Dating Enterprises Appearing in Table

A: Food and Flirting*

B: Catholic Cuties*

C: eHarmful*

D: Mismatch*

E: Viral Venus*

F: Physics*

G: Barrel of Monkeys*

H: Set-ups by friends

	A	B	C	D	E	F	G	H
Price	Too many	2 or more	6 or more	6 or more	0	3 or more	0	0
Length of membership	12 months	1 month	3 mos.	3-6 mos.	6+ mos.	3 mos.	3+ mos.	N/A
Number of matches	21	1	3?	7?	10	5	0	3
2nd date	25%	100%	0%	57%	20%	0%	N/A	0%
3+ dates	14%	0%	0%	28%	20%	0%	N/A	0%
Mental/ emotional stability	33%	0%	0%	43%	20%	0%	N/A	33%
No calls	4%	0%	0%	14%	20%	40%	N/A	67%
Stalking	4%	0%	0%	14%	10%	0%	N/A	0%
Waitress alarm	28%	100%	33%?	14%	10%	20%	N/A	33%
My idiocy factor	9%	0%	0%	14%	10%	0%	N/A	0%
Uniqueness	43%	100%	33%	28%	10%	20%	N/A	33%

Now what the hell do I do with all these numbers?  I mean they really seem official and like they should be leading to some sort of conclusion but I’m really at a loss.  If I look at the important factor of mental/emotional stability for example, Mismatch* seems to be the most frightening but I don’t remember being that persistently afraid for my safety, security, and/or sanity.  Then again, if I look at dating endeavors that resulted in guys that I dated more than 3 times, Mismatch* seems to be in the lead. 

The thing is after about 4.5 years of seeking outside consultation and matching from a variety of sources and after having gone on dates with approximately 50 guys, I don’t know what the end result is and where to go next.  I guess in terms of end results, I met a lot of very interesting men (some who were a little too interesting) and I was open to a lot of different situations (not all of which were fun or safe but most of which were probably better for my social health than sitting at home watching melodramas on TV). 

Maybe this isn’t about the end result either.  I’ve never been one of those philosophical “its all about the journey” types but maybe in this case, thinking about finding “The One” as some sort of end state isn’t the point.  I’ve become someone who sees herself as complete and fun and interesting and worthwhile without having that plus one that I used to think was so important.  Sure, it’s lonely sometimes but it’s kind of great too.  And if some day I actually do meet a guy that I actually want to stick around and that does stick around, I won’t have to worry that my entire identity is wrapped up in that person.  That its better that we’re two individuals who dig being with each other rather than two people who just got together because they didn’t want to be alone.

Alright this post became a little less whimsical than I intended and daylight’s a-wastin’, so I’m heading to the gym and errands.  At some point I’ll contemplate my next move in the dating arena but I don’t think I’ve had any epiphanies yet. PLUS although I have resigned my Physics* membership as of tomorrow, I’m still on Barrel of Monkeys* and who knows,  I may find a whole other site or dating endeavor to try or decide that practice makes perfect and try out one of the old ones.  Thoughts, comments, and suggestions are welcome as the one thing I’ve learned is that I definitely have a lot more to learn about this crazy world of extreme dating.

*Name has been changed.

To Text or Not to Text

I know I’ve previously written of my dislike of texting early on in a dating relationship, but I’m writing again as I need some speedy and hopefully helpful advice.  Here’s the scenario: tonight I went on a first date with Chip*, guy that I had been kinda communicating with on Physics* for a few months.  I say kinda communicating because we had mainly just sent those bizarre get-to-know-you games that constitute communication on Physics.*  An example is Love It or Leave It where the site shows you six images and you say if you would love it or leave it.  The images could be things like recycling, saunas, red meat, rodeos, clubs, etc.  

Anyway, Chip* and I started communicating way back in October but then he went missing for 3-4 weeks during which time I’m guessing he was either dating someone or just got fed up with the site and decided to take a break.  Then he re-contacted me in December and we emailed a bit and then talked on the phone.  The phone conversations were a little awkward and extremely long, but not horrible.  He appeared to be working off of a script of interview questions that queried me on my favorite foods, places I like to hang out, hobbies, places I’ve vacationed, etc.   I chalked it up to him just being nervous but our subsequent conversations were pretty similar.

Except the last time we chatted before we actually met –that one was a little weirder.  Mainly because he asked me if I liked to get facials which is a weird question for a guy to ask a woman when they don’t know each other and then also because he admitted that he had his eyebrows waxed a few years ago.  Again, not a thing a guy normally says to a woman before their first date.  But since it’s not a bad thing for a guy to take care with his appearance and he really didn’t seem like a seriously obsessive metrosexual (see A Brief Period of Normalcy with a Side of Squeamishness), I decided to not dwell on the waxing.  At least I could be certain he didn’t have a big unibrow.

Then tonight we meet up for a drink and have a decent but not thrilling conversation.  I think he was highly nervous or possibly has no discernible sense of humor.  But he was a decent guy and it was an okay evening.  The awkwardness came in at the end when we were leaving the wine bar.  I indicated that I was parked in a nearby lot and he said that his truck was right in front of us.  He then asked me what I was up to this week, I told him and asked him what his plans were.  Then we both said goodbye and walked away.  He didn’t say that he had a nice time, or ask me out again, or even offer to walk me to my car.  Incidentally as I was walking up the street to the parking lot, he passed by me in his truck and didn’t wave, beep, or offer to drive me through the chilly night to my car. 

I then called my sister to inform her that the date had safely concluded per our standard operating procedures.  Whenever I go on one of these dates, I tell my sister the time of the date and location and tell her that I will contact her by a specified time and that if she doesn’t hear from me she should try to contact me a few times before contacting the restaurant and then the authorities.  Considering some of the dates I’ve had --Glen* the golfer comes to mind (At Least I Got To Hit Some Balls)—it makes sense to have someone know where I am and make sure that the date ends safely, even if there has been some emotional scarring.

Then an hour or so after the date had ended, Chip* texts me the following message: Do you want to go out again? 

The message seemed odd to me.  There was no greeting, no indication that he had fun, etc. It was direct, which I usually like, but still weirded me out.  As I’m not the most prolific of texters though, maybe his texting etiquette is completely legit.  I didn’t know how to respond so I asked a friend her advice and she said I should just text him back “yes” and see where he takes it from here.  Thoughts? 

*Name has been changed.

Pop Quiz

I know its been a long time since I've posted anything and although I plan to rectify that in the near future, here's a quiz to keep you up to speed in the caliber of matches I've received.

Which of the following was the scariest elements of my latest match's profile?
a. A photo of him next to an assortment of weapons
b. A photo of him posed with his two hairless cats all wearing matching sweaters
c. A photo of him with devil eyes standing next to what appears to be a refrigerator that's been hacked to pieces
d. His profile headline, all in caps telling me "DO NOT FEAR WHAT YOU WANT THE MOST!"
e. All of the Above

Yep, that's right - the answer was posed in matching sweater with his hairless cats.  Actually "all of the above" would also have been an acceptable answer, but for some reason I found the hairless cats to be more frightening than the weapons or ordering me not to fear what I want the most.  In a brave act of self-love, I have not responded to the above gentleman's request to get to know him and what he's all about "without being all judgmental like the last chic." 

Thankfully, the holidays have been too jam packed for me to spend much time cruising either of the dating websites I'm still suffering from/subscribing to.  I'm still talking with a few guys who haven't frightened me too badly...yet.  But my next planned posts include a Wedding Survival Guide for Singles and Comparative Analysis of Way Too Many Dating Websites.