Getting Off To A Bad Start--And Finish

Ohhhh my goodness. I thought Scott was bad the other weekend, but that’s because I hadn’t met David yet. I made a bad choice and decided to simply hang out and watch football at his apartment. I know, I was almost asking for it, and I’m ever so thankful nothing happened to me. But after seeing him, I realized I could kick his a** if I needed to, which, incidentally, is what started off the “date” on such a bad note. In his pictures he came across as an all-American boy—athletic, lighter coloring, good natured, blah blah blah—everything I could hope for, right? He met me outside and after saying “it’s nice to meet you,” I spit out, “Oh, you’re skinny.” Oops! Such a major no-no, but I didn’t understand that until hours later. My comment obviously peeved him because guys don’t like being called skinny apparently, and I tried to explain my slip by saying he looked like he had lost weight from his pictures. He informed me that I was actually correct and he had lost weight recently. HA! I knew I was right. Regardless, I did apologize for my comment and tried to start fresh. David cozied himself on his recliner across the room from where I was sitting. I loved the distance between us; it was really conducive to creating a warm atmosphere. He worked for the government and did something related to studying the mind or why people are the way they are. I guess, since it was a Sunday and all, he thought he was still at work. For the next two hours, he chipped away at everything about me. Religion was a biggie for him. My profile explicitly states that I’m not religious, and the only person I try to fake this with is my grandmother. David went on and on about God—I’m not sure exactly what he said because I was watching the football game that was on TV. Wow, thank goodness for football, this is what, the third date that it’s provided me with entertainment?

We made it past religion and David had some other random jerk things to say, but he really got me fired up when he said that I use my looks to get what I want. Now, I try to take care of my appearance, but I am definitely not one to wear skimpy clothes, bat my eyelashes, or do whatever else with my looks to get what I want. Because his rantings weren’t offensive enough, he decided to make the proclamation that no guy will ever like me for me—he will be only interested in me because of my looks. I laughed. And after a few minutes of thinking of ways to impose physical harm on him, I decided to leave instead. I could’ve left way earlier, but I wanted David to feel like a dope because he cried about one comment I made, and I was able to withstand his judgments for two hours. Before I left, we stepped outside on his balcony. I was taking in the view when he pulled me in and kissed me. Uhhhhh, huh? I’m pretty sure he hated me about five minutes prior and now he’s kissing me? He took out the hammer and really nailed his coffin by making some, um, suggestive remarks, I guess we could call them. I laughed. Again. And walked out. Hopefully Scott and David will be the only jerks I have to meet.

SportsCenter of Attention

Last weekend was host to two dates. Jack came up first. He’s a former college football player who was just as beefy in person as he was in his pictures. We met at a restaurant for some drinks, and he was very friendly and upbeat. Conversation took off right away. He’s only a year out of college, but he has a smarty pants job doing something in economics and helping poor countries. When I started drinking my vodka sprite I was fully into our conversation. By the time I finished it, I had checked out and was focusing on the TV mounted above his head. He was talking about football and I was watching the highlights on Sports Center. After quite a few of these match dates, I felt pretty secure that “getting together for a drink” had more of a time limit invisibly attached to it than, say, going out to dinner. I expected to be with him for an hour and a half, maybe two hours. Three hours later—yes, the amount of time it would take me to get to southern Jersey, I was still there checking my phone, silently begging to go home. He was a super cute, nice, healthy, smart guy, but it just wasn’t clicking for me. I ordered only one drink and had finished it within the hour. When I didn’t order another, I thought that was the international symbol for “set me free, I’m bored.” Finally, the night came to a close, and on my way home I kept asking myself if I was being too picky. Jack really had so many great qualities (minus that he lived in D.C., ugh), and I still couldn’t make it work.

Okay. So I may have been bored with Jack, but my next date was truly treacherous. It was horrible before it even started. Scott had a decent profile, although there was nothing that stood out. Oh, well, he does have two kids so that stood out a little. We spoke on the phone to set plans, and when I asked him to meet at a restaurant that was semi-halfway between us, but leaning a little more towards me, he was not so gentlemanly about it. He told me I should go to him. Uhhh, yeah right, you’re the boy, you can travel. A few days later, I was on my way to meet Scott when he called me. He was a bit agitated that he couldn’t find the restaurant. He didn’t yell at me, but he definitely raised his voice and blamed me for not giving him exact directions. “Oh, well you didn’t ask for directions. I told you the main road it was off of and figured you’d mapquest the specifics,” was my response. Ugh, I wanted to turn my car around, but I had made it to the restaurant by then. While I sat in my car, I dictated the directions to him, and a couple minutes later, I saw him pull in. He parked pretty far from where I was, and I noticed he was on the phone. Wow, I guess he had hung up with me and right away picked up with someone else. He got out of his car so I started to get out of mine. He was still talking on the phone as we walked toward the front. My annoyance for his rude phone etiquette paused briefly because I was trying to make sense of his outfit. I thought for a moment that maybe I was out on a date with 50 Cent. Curse words are pretty much non-existent from my vocabulary, and this guy had the F word splattered across the sleeve of his shirt. Yikes, he may not be a good match for me. He continued to talk on the phone while I stood next to him for another minute. We finally went inside and sat at the bar. It was 4:00 on a Sunday afternoon and I ordered the first of my three vodka sprites that I would soak up that day. He was dreadful. When I found out that his mother was 47 years old and he had a 31 year old brother along with three other siblings, I was…holding my tongue. The father/fathers of Scott and his siblings were M.I.A. , and it took everything in me not to scream, “Why would she keep having children?!” Thank goodness for football, Sports Center, and vodka; those three combined kept me from abandoning him right there. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t. I think he thought it was going well, and he would’ve stayed longer but I lied and said I had to leave.

During this past week, Scott has tried to contact me and I have ignored him. He’s not even worth the time to tell him he’s not worth my time.

Just the Two—or Nine—of Us

Thinking the guys may be different if I made a drop in elevation, I started talking with Carl because he was only 5’10”. Well, not only because of his height…he had lots of tattoos as well! Along with tattoos, and sub-6 foot height, Carl seemed to have a good nature to him. We talked on the phone a couple times, and he was calm, kind of like Mack. Because of scheduling issues, last night seemed like our best option to meet. I wouldn’t be just meeting him, though; I’d be meeting seven of his friends. I went to his house before we left, and they were not the warmest folk toward me. Carl was still getting ready and thankfully one of the seven decided to have a conversation with me. I wandered around a little bit and came across some awards Carl had received. They confirmed his claim in his profile that he volunteered with Big Brothers. Those awards sat next to stacks of books that he was studying from to move his career along. Career motivated but also has time to volunteer? He even has the desire to volunteer? That’s pretty rare to find. At this point, I had seen his roommates and friends more than Carl so I was a little worried that this wasn’t the best idea. The princess finally emerged from his room, ready to go out. We piled into cabs and headed for Arlington. Carl was really polite, and he did a good job of balancing a “boys’ night” and a match date all at the same time. We sat closely together around a couple tables, and we soon started playing a drinking game. His friends eased up and were way friendlier to me at the bar—hm, was that because they actually liked me or just because they had alcohol and didn’t care at that point? Either way, it was fun, but after a couple hours, Carl asked if I wanted to leave. I told him sure, hoping he meant that he would be leaving with me and not that he was kicking me out.

Thirty minutes later, we were back at his house—alone. It’s strange to say that we had been together for about four hours yet had never been totally alone. We talked for a little bit and it was just okay. I think we had both fallen into a sleepy mood because of the hectic day we each had and the alcohol was making us drowsy. I couldn’t tell if he liked me or not, and he probably felt the same since I didn’t really know if I liked him either. Before I left, I got a hug and a, “I’ll talk to you later,” from Carl. That’s code for “I’ll never speak to you again.” I’m learning things as I go, and I have learned to not expect anything when a guy tells me that. If a guy is interested in me, he will make the plan in the moment for the next date. This whole online dating thing is starting to get frustrating. I can’t believe out of all these guys, that Eric was the only one to make it beyond one or two dates. Ew, Eric is the best evidence I’ve got that online dating is where I’ll meet someone? Every time I feel like I could step away from match, I log on to simply peruse the options and end up signing my life away again. Why should this time be any different? If Carl contacts me then I’ll deal with it then, but for now, I need to see what some of my other choices are.