Hindsight

Ever go on a date and it’s kinda ok and then you get home and start identifying all these dealbreakers?

This seems to be happening kind of a lot lately. While we’re hanging out chatting I’m not dying to get home. I think “I’d give him a second date.” Then I get home to my couch’s warm embrace away from the glow of whiskey and feel compelled to text.

“So I just went out with a more bitter version of [insert ex here].”

“So this guy tonight was grilling me about where I work. Is my job weird?”

“So this guy tonight said he puts butter in his coffee…”

(Ok so that last one is apparently a real thing. And actually something I might try when I’m not busy scarfing straight brown sugar.)

Am I sabotaging myself or am I trying so hard to be open minded I don’t even know what kind of company I like to keep anymore?

Like when I met up with the guy this week for drinks and he didn’t drink. That seemed weird and also awkward since I enjoy drinking and did so heartily. Naturally he didn’t pay for my drinks, which as we know is a major annoyance that I worry I should be more modern about but don’t want to be modern about. Espesh when my bar tab for the night is $9.50.

Also when I tried to explain him to a friend and said “he was kinda super negative but maybe it’s good to not always be optimistic?” Hearing myself out loud rationalizing a guy’s behavior by suggesting a positive outlook is a bad thing was jarring…

The past two half-hearted 2nd dates I regretted and the fact that I decided against sending a thank you text lest I have to have a conversation were a push to let it be a one and done with this guy. But I’ll keep wondering if I’m letting a guy’s one bad night keep me from a relationship or if I’m just too picky.

Trying to trust your (anxious, prone to depression) gut while also having an open heart is as confusing as it is tough.

 

 

*PS: That VH1 show Hindsight was awesome. Bring that back!

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(Wo)Man Up

I am facing an epidemic of p-word men. Men are not supposed to be high maintenance. Go drink your scotch and grunt somewhere. I have enough time keeping myself together, I can’t worry about stroking your ego.

The past week has featured two separate p-word situations. I’m sitting back and observing, because I am not going to jeopardize my content solo life surrounded by pets and pillows if I’m expected to put in work before the first date even happens.

Scene #1: OkCupid

Message exchanges begins and goes very well. Witty, casual, shared interests. Without fail, responds within 15 minutes of every message, but reliable is nice sometimes.

Then comes: “Not sure if this is too forward, but I thought maybe you might be open to chatting on text. Here is my number if that’s ok with you.”

You’re not asking for a kidney. Just exchange the numbers and carry on.*

Accidentally on purpose I text a few days later.

“Oh it’s so great to hear from you. I assumed I had been too forward and felt bad for giving you my number.”

If he feels bad about giving me a phone number can you imagine the trauma if he was late to dinner one night?

Needless to say, he has not mustered the courage to schedule a date. He has referenced his diet and the gym on more than one occasion. I even know where his gym is located. And I know what he bought at the grocery store to “keep it tight. Girls don’t want any roundness.” I was not aware of that but fine.

He has referenced things we could do on a date:

What kind of food do you like? If we went on a date, I’d need to know.

Yet, no dates. And I’m neither holding my breath nor keeping it tight in anticipation. I’m keeping it cheese.

Scene #2: I didn’t meet this guy online.

I repeat: I DID NOT MEET THIS GUY ON LINE.

Automatic first place. A real person interesting enough in real life to exchange numbers/accept my number thrust at him.*

Except then the multiple texts by the time I got home from the bar.

“I’m so grateful we talked. I’m just kicking myself for not having the courage to come up to you myself and talk”

(Pro-tip: Avoid revealing weakness and lack of self-confidence in the first text. Really, withhold all emotions until the 6 month mark, and even then save the gratitude for things like pizza.)

He did manage to set up a date relatively soon, and follow up without assuming my scheduling issues were an outright rejection. Unfortunately the actual planning of the date involved multiple messages requiring multiple 3/3 screens worth of text. No restaurant in the zip code was left unsuggested. I seriously almost cancelled, nervous he would pee his pants when I walked in the door.

Once we met up we really had a nice time. No sarcasm. He was gentlemanly, easy to talk to, and lighthearted. A red flag or two but a good time. He went along with petty bar theft and wanted to bet on football. He wins and his prize was a 2nd date with me. Adorbs! Flirtation AND Gambling.

Get home and again a text from him. This time assuring me that he wants a second date but he wants me to know I don’t really have to follow through with the bet if I don’t want to because I shouldn’t ever have to do anything I don’t want to do but it would be really nice to go out again because (^&@&^#$%*&)^$@()!*&^#$.

I assured him I’d be happy to go out.

Few days later I ask how the rest of his weekend was.

“Saturday was the highlight. I had sweet dreams all night after meeting a wonderful lady: you! I hope to be able to relive the night.

And no date request since then.

I’ll go out with him again, despite risk of barfing. But a 44 year old needs to figure out on his own how to ask for a 2nd date without reciting a sonnet.

I don’t do high maintenance. No one should have to. Sexist or not, you need to man up.

*Just ask for my number. Seriously. Don’t make me do the work!!

Customs

Ok readers. (Reader?).

I need to solve a debate here.

I have made clear before in this space that I refuse to follow weird rules about asking questions and following conversation protocol with online acquaintances. But I hit a snag in this realm with a guy I thought was a normy, and now it’s sounding like I could be in the wrong.

What gives???

Here’s the deal. Had an enjoyable date with Guy on Wednesday. He suggested meeting near my place, which won him a million points right off the bat, then he proceeded to pick my fave bar. Up two million points. Had several drinks, some fun banter, and a front-seat make out. Seemed like another date was a lock.

Fast forward to Thursday afternoon. He texts “Hey, we’re short a person for softball tonight and thought I’d see if you’re interested since we talked about it last night.”

I responded “I can’t go tonight but thanks for thinking of me!” and waited for the invite to a real date.

I didn’t suggest other plans.

Know why?

He wasn’t asking me out! He was asking me something you’d ask your neighbor you run into taking out the trash! There was nothing to respond with unless I had an empty seat at book club. [side note: this isn’t a socially awkward guy who doesn’t know how to ask someone out]

Fast forward again until today when I texted “hi, how was your weekend, haven’t heard from you [winky tongue out face]”

His response: “I thought it was polite and customary that if someone asks you out, and you cannot make it, you counter offer with another time that you can make it.”

fuck.

that.

I thought it was customary that guys grow a pair after age 30.

If your idea of a 2nd date is joining your company softball team, we are not well matched. If you can’t recover from a girl being mediocre at texting, we are not well matched.

But from the 2 guys I’ve surveyed, apparently I’m totally in the wrong here. If he had asked me to dinner, a movie, the park, anything that wasn’t a last-minute technicality outing, I’d say “I can’t but maybe this weekend?” or something along those lines. But this is not a date.

So what do you think? Am I right? Or is it becoming more and more clear why I don’t have many second dates?

Gallery

How to Date

Step 1: Send increasingly panicked messages during the first interaction

Step 2: Immediately ask girl out in response to her snarky response

Step 3: Block her when she said no thank you

Humor on Clearance

OKCDbag: How did the blonde kill her fish.

Me (a blonde): really? a blonde joke?

OKCDbag: The difference between Paul Walker and my computer is I actually give a fuck when it crashes.

Me: Too soon

OKCDbag: It was probably a bad idea painting it black thinking it would run faster thought.

OKCDbag: I sell a sense of humor if you need one.