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.

Hapless Holidays

I need someone to rig my television with some sort of holiday v-chip to prevent me from indulging in sappy holiday made-for-television movies.  I’ve hit rock bottom.  Like an addict, I can’t stop coming back for one more fix.  I’m not talking about the holiday classics or movies with actual plots or thoughtful dialogue.  I can enjoy those without overdoing it.  It’s the ones starring former child stars or completely contrived story lines where the girl gets the guy, Santa comes to the rescue, and they all live happily ever after – those are the ones that have me jonesin’. 

If you actually see me at all during the holiday season, it will be a miracle because between the viewing schedules of the Hallmark Channel, Lifetime, and ABC Family I’m having a hard time finding the will to leave my house.  I almost hyperventilated yesterday when I got back from the gym and realized I missed the only showing thus far this season of “Recipe for a Perfect Christmas.”  In this gem, an ambitious and straight-laced food critic comes to terms with her abandonment issues by spending the holiday with her irrepressible mother and of course manages to find an attractive, sweet, up and coming chef, fall in love, and land the job of her dreams.    It’s sappy and sugary and I feel completely guilty watching it and I totally can’t help myself. 

At this point I feel the need to admit something that feels even more embarrassing than my addiction to cheesy romantic holiday flicks.  I think it’s only fair after revealing in my previous posts the flaws and follies of the fellows I’ve dated.  So here it is: I have never, ever, in my 30-something years had a relationship during the holidays.  Bizarre surely for someone my age and who dates as compulsively, yet ultimately unsuccessfully as I do, but it is the truth. 

I realized this the other day after a gluttonous viewing of “A Boyfriend for Christmas” and “Snow Globe.” The plot of the first really is exactly as it sounds and in the latter, a woman irritated with her imperfect family and obsessed with the idea of a perfect Christmas, dreams her way into a snow globe and a perfect Christmas with a perfect guy only to realize that what she thought was perfect, of course wasn’t entirely perfect.  And somehow in between the dreams and the snow globe, she of course meets a great guy and they live happily ever after.  Wow, seeing it written like that has me wondering how I could have sat thru that movie.  And yet I know, deep in my heart of hearts that if I’m home the next time it’s on, I’ll be powerless to resist.

At first I thought my math had to be wrong; at some point from high school thru adulthood, I must have been in a relationship on Christmas, New Year’s, or Valentine’s Day.  But nope, I’ve reviewed the data and it’s conclusive.  I’ve had some near misses along the way.  I almost got back together with a high school ex-boyfriend over Christmas but came to my senses in time.  The closest I came was several years ago when I was dumped two weeks before Christmas—of course this was after I had already bought his gifts but somehow before he bought mine.  I’ve also been dumped one week before Valentine’s Day but just by a guy I had started dating after the New Year. 

Casually dating this time of year is a little perilous.  Things seem more romantic, more sentimental, and more fraught with meaning than they do during the rest of the year.  Add that with a dangerously high diet of watching sugary sap about how the perfect guy will be delivered to my doorstop by St. Nick and there’s no way to avoid disappointment. 

Now, I understand that all those in relationships aren’t necessarily living Norman Rockwell-inspired lives during the holidays.  With some couples, I’m amazed they don’t kill each other by the time Christmas actually gets here.  There’s just so much work that goes into the present buying and wrapping, decorating, baking, card writing, party attending, etc.  Trying to find a parking spot at the mall alone is enough to end in assault charges, let alone spending significant amounts of time with your in-laws wearing holiday sweaters and pretending to enjoy the crap they buy you.

The problem is that although my rational self realizes being in a relationship isn’t necessarily better than not being in a relationship, it is during the holidays more than any other time of year that it feels like there’s something wrong with being single.  As a precaution and also because of the sheer amount of holiday stuff that has to get done, I tend to go on fewer dates.  I don’t want to end up just sticking with a guy so that I have someone to be with over the holidays.  Civilians shouldn’t be exposed to my family during this time of year unless it is absolutely necessary and it’s really too much to go through for a guy for who I only have lukewarm feelings.  I’m still talking to a few guys on Physics* and may actually go out again with Bruce* (see I Kinda Liked It Better When My Dates Were Insane for more details) but I’m not really feeling it.

And to be brutally and painfully honest, there’s still that part of me that’s waiting for Santa to deliver the perfect guy with a big, red bow.  I just hope he delivers him soon enough so that he can get stuck writing the Christmas cards and I can get back to my holiday movie watching.   

*Name has been changed.

I Kinda Liked It Better When My Dates Were Insane

The week before Thanksgiving I went on two dates and neither of them was crazy.  That in itself is pretty novel.  What isn’t new is that the one I really liked has fallen into that black hole all desirable single men seem to fall.  But I’m getting ahead of myself so let’s start at the beginning.

On Tuesday I met Bruce* at a local bar.  He was intelligent, a good conversationalist and attentive.  We talked about traveling, families, stories of growing up, and the upcoming holidays.  I wasn’t a smitten kitten but didn’t mind the idea of going out with him again.   The next day he was leaving at like 5am to fly to Las Vegas for 5 days of fun with some friends and said he would call when he got back in town.  The one moment that gave me pause was when he turned to me and said that he had never been married or engaged before.  I said I hadn’t been either and thought that was the end of the discussion.  These are not the exact words that followed, but the general gist of what he said next was that he was an independent type person and whoever he ended up with would have to conform to his life. 

I don’t want to pick apart every guy that I date to find something that is wrong with him, but I also don’t want to ignore what could be red flags.  Was this a red flag or was it nothing?  I mean, he could have just been nervous and it didn’t mean anything.  Or it could have been that he was saying this now so that say we end up having a relationship and I get annoyed that he is expecting me to completely change my life to conform to what he wants and he says how he told me from the beginning that this is how it would be. 

I decided not to let his declaration of independence scare me away from him and responded to his email last week saying I would like to meet up with him again.  Of course, since I responded to his email he has fallen into the desirable single guy black hole. 

The desirable single guy black hole is not a new phenomenon.  In “The Dangers of Social Networking” I discussed how the black hole sucked up the dreamy veterinary surgeon (not to be confused with chinchilla neuterer from “Two Things I Never Thought I’d Hear”).  You know how it is, you go on a great date where the conversation is awesome, he is cute, you know it is going beyond unbelievably well.  You both agree that you had a great time and he said he’d love to go out again and will call you to set something up.  And then…nothing.  That’s it.  He is never to be heard from again. 

I sort of think there should be a law against this type of misbehavior.  Why say you want to go out again and say you’ll call if you don’t mean it?  Did he say those things because he didn’t want to seem mean at the end of the date?  I’ve been in situations where I’m not interested in the guy but don’t want to crush his feelings and it is a tricky situation.  But I usually just try to be polite but clear and say something like “have a nice night” and shake his hand or if I want to be a little more up front that its not going to work, I might wish him luck on the dating site.  I don’t say I want to go out again if I don’t.

It didn’t bother me as much with Bruce* as it did with Eric.*  Eric* was my date on Friday night of the same week.  We met at a bar downtown and had what I thought was a terrific time.  He is funny and cute and I loved talking with him.  Eric* is wicked tall with red hair and has funky pointy teeth which I actually found adorable and a somewhat high-pitched laugh when he really got going.  He had been working in business before but hated it so started working with this charter school near his house and now works there full time.  He loves it and really likes his coworkers.  Crap, he even makes lunch once a week for his coworkers – like exotic stuff like falafel and homemade pestos.  He told me about his affection for those paranormal tv shows where they hunt ghosts and how awesome his dog is and how much he was looking forward to the holidays with his family.  We talked for hours and then he walked me to my car, hugged me, asked if he could call me to go out again, asked when I was free the following week, and then never contacted me again.  Yep, that about sums it up.

I remained strong though I almost cracked and called him.  It helped that Thanksgiving was crazy busy and then I became wicked sick and sounded like Elmer Fudd after gargling with broken glass.  But I was tempted to call as I really liked him.  I just had to keep reminding myself what I discussed in “The Art of Communication,” it has never worked when I call the guy.  If he really liked me, he would have called.  It sucks and its old school, but it seems to be one of those universal truths. 

Now I’m trying to decide what to do next.  I’m still talking with a few guys on Physics* and being contacted by increasingly scary guys on Barrel of Monkeys.*  In addition to the unibrow who told me he was tired of showering alone, I’ve been approached by a series of frightening guys who take pictures of themselves aiming guns into cameras or almost passed out on tables with their friends.  I’m beginning to feel like a more permanent period of hermitage is in order.  This is a dangerous time though, rife with sappy holiday movies where the single gal finds a hot date under her tree with a red bow or kidnaps a former star of “Saved By the Bell” and makes him pretend to be her boyfriend until they eventually fall in love.  If a prolonged dating detoxification period leaves me with extended periods of time to watch such sappy seasonal specials, the end result could be disastrous.

*Name has been changed