The one who decided I was a slut before he even met me

When you meet a new person, and your ex comes up in a conversation, what does a smart person do? You refer to them as your friend, right? The word "ex" just raises red flags for me all over the place and makes my skin crawl a little bit.

So I guess I understood when Woody Allen got a little weird about me referring to my "friends." (I call him Woody Allen because he was a nebbishy Jewish Lawyer).

Over IM (BEFORE I met him) while I was on a business trip:

"So what did you do this evening?"

"I went to a comedy club with a friend of a friend. I met him a couple weeks ago and promised to hang out when I was in town."

"So are you going to see this person again."

"Uh..."

I finally called Woody on it, he explained that the dating site that we had met on was prone to being very sexually promiscuous. "You never know what someone means by the word 'friend' anymore."

Okay, I guess I could see that. Could have just asked me though instead of being subtly rude.

Also, he tended to accost me every time I hopped online. It was annoying, especially when it was midnight and I just wanted to check my email before bed.

I actually did go out with Woody, and the date was actually okay. I had a couple of drinks and probably told him a little too much about myself. I told him that my longest relationship was only 4 months. Oops...ammunition he would use against me later.

After the date, I didn't hear from Woody and he didn't hear from me. I figured I would go out with him again if he called though. Five days later I sign on really quickly to check email, he IM's me and we chat a little bit.

He says "I had a good time the other night, and I felt like the conversation flowed well, but I got the feeling you weren't really into me." Honesty! I can appreciate that.

My phone rings, it's my boss. "Can't talk now! Sorry!" Woody signs off while waiting for me to get back to him and his awkward statement, but sends me an email saying that we can talk about it later.

I go to play a gig and come back around midnight and start writing back to him. I was trying to figure out if I wanted to go out with him again, give him a second chance.. Woody IM's me the moment I'm closing the browser. I do not feel like having this conversation this late at night.

I get another email from him. "Nevermind." It says.

Uh, what?

I go back to my email, and rewrite it. "What the hell was that "nevermind" all about? Are you angry or frustrated with me?" It says basically. "No the vibe was not there, good luck in your dating adventures."

The next morning I wake up to this email:

I wasn't angry with the "nevermind," just resolute in my certainty of the outcome.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if we were relationship material, but I was open to seeing what happened between us. It can be hard for people to be themselves and make an amazing connection during something as inherently awkward as a blind date. Besides, some amazing relationships start with a slow burn instead of fireworks.

Unfortunately, I could tell that you weren't of the same mind. And at the risk of sounding cruel or meanspirited, I think your focus on instant chemistry is probably why your longest relationship has been 4 months long.

No hard feelings. I do hope you find something lasting. Take care.

Did I mention that this is after ONE DATE???

ONE DATE, people!!

I wanted to write Woody back and tell him he had no idea what he was talking about and to go eff himself. But I let it go.

Fly, fly nebbishy Woody Allen man who is so uptight and annoying!!

Good luck finding a cynical and jaded woman to make happy.

The one who was old and douchey

This is one of my favorite flattering stories. It was one of my best friend’s birthdays and she was celebrating in a restaurant where she had gotten a gift certificate through her job. If it wasn’t for that, I would have not been caught dead in this bougie part of town in this swanky restaurant. I just don’t go to this part of town.

Anyway, we only ordered one bottle of wine because we didn’t want to shell out cash for another bottle. But then the waitress came by with another bottle of wine courtesy of a generous gentleman at another table. She said that he sent a “happy birthday” message to my friend and a special “hello” to me. At that moment I could feel my entire face go red.

Everyone at the table freaked out. Ooooooooo. That guy LIKES you.

Are we adults here or what?

I will call him The Old Man. He was 42. I was 28. Perhaps “Old Man” is a little harsh since he's really not that old. There are other 42 year-olds I would date. But for some reason, being 42 and douchey makes you an Old Man in my book.

The Old Man came over to our table to say hello and chat a little bit with us, but really, chat with ME. I thanked him for making my friend’s birthday a little more special and he gave me a piece of paper with his name and contact info on it. I guess he was nice enough.

“Will you call him?” “You should CALL HIM!”

Thanks guys.

After some cyber-stalking I found out that The Old Man was one of those guys that likes to buy and sell companies and it looked like he had made a lot of money doing it. What do they call them, Venture Capitalists? Totally my type. ha!

I figured "what the hell" and emailed him, thanking him again for the wine. He asked me out to a bar in a much less douchey part of town. Once he started name-dropping and telling me he could hook me up as a music writer, I was flattered, but a little weirded out. He hadn’t even read anything I had written. But I went out with him for a second time anyway. Why? I don't know. Maybe I had nothing else to do.

When The Old Man figured he had buttered me up with his money and connections, this is when he figured he could bag me now, right?

Wrong, sucker. Get your hand off my leg.

Now, I have a friend who’s into rich, powerful guys. It's just her thing. You go girl! After telling her about The Old Man, she was way more interested than I was. But she said, he won’t like me, he likes YOU. But I figured, what the hell, this is a perfect way to get rid of him. In an email, I wrote (and I’m paraphrasing):

“Hey Old Man, thanks for the drinks, but I don’t think it’s going to work out with us. But I have a friend who you might like, interested? If not, no need to reply.”

No reply. Oh well.

Thanks for the wine anyway Old Man!

I leave you with the wise words of Ke$ha's "Dinosaur"

D-I-N-O-S-A U R a dinosaur!
O-L-D-M-A-N You're just an old man!
Hittin on me, what?
You need a CAT scan!

The one who just wasn't worth all that work

I met Mr. Solar at an environmental conference. I thought it was cute that he was drinking water out of a cup he had made in a pottery class. I didn't get his contact info, but a friend of mine did. So I got it from her and emailed him. Yeah, so I was a little bit stalker-y. But it's okay sometimes.

Mr. Solar said in an email two days later, "it was nice to meet you too. Let's get a drink or dessert sometime." I said "great, but I have people in town this weekend let's do it next week."

Got nothing back. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt, which I have been known to do and emailed him the next week saying the next weekend would be good for me. After the weekend was over Mr. Solar emails and calls saying sorry but he was in Portland; we should plan something. So I call him back. Get nothing back.

You think I would just let it go there. I mean he called AND emailed. Sigh, he must REALLY like me... No. I like humiliation I guess.

So I texted Mr. Solar a few days after Thanksgiving: "Hope your Thanksgiving was good. Am I ridiculous for continuing to bug you?"

He texts back: "No, I'm glad you did :) I'm in Vegas, let's do something after Thursday.

He calls, leaves a message. I call leave a message.

IS ALL OF THIS WORK WORTH IT?

He calls, I pick up. I can't believe it. We're actually talking. We plan a brunch date for the next day, MORE THAN A MONTH AFTER WE MET FOR THE FIRST TIME.

It's nice enough. No problem. Mr. Solar checks his phone about a bazillion times. UNDER THE TABLE. He's texting. Gawd. He's in his 30s, doesn't he know not to do that on a first date by now?

He pays though. I offer to pay tip, he says sure.

I give him a ride to REI. I drop him where he's meeting his cousin. He walks the sidewalk checking his phone.

Not worth all that work. But at least I know for sure.

I mean "I stalked your father to go out with me the first time" would have been a really great story to tell the children. Maybe that's what I was hoping for.

The one who must have thought I was hideous

I honestly don’t think he thought I was hideous, but that’s what I could have thought. I mean I’ll never know. And I don’t really care.

Let just called him “Mr. Confused,” because I was looking cute that night and he must have had some crazy shit going on in his head. And calling him “Asshole” just doesn’t seem right, although it warranted. I know, I’m being very kind to this guy by giving him this name.

I met Mr. Confused on the Jewish dating website. He was a school teacher, tall, skinny and really not much to look at. But I guess he seemed nice enough.

I was volunteering to work at a screening of a film at the Jewish Community Center. I told Mr. Confused about this he said he wanted to see the movie, so the plan was to watch the movie and go out afterwards. He had also told me that he used to work at that same Jewish Community Center. This was a good sign

Something funky happened with scheduling and some people thought that the film started a whole hour later than it actually did. Mr. Confused was one of these people. I was able to watch the film and grabbed a spot in the back so I could slip out quickly and do whatever need to be done afterwards. Mr. Confused walked in about ten minutes before the film was over and randomly ended up sitting right next to me.

“Oh, hi!” I said looking at him when he sat down, immediately recognizing him from his picture.

“Hey!” He said smiling.

“You must have gotten the time wrong too, sorry about that. There was a problem with the scheduling.”

I don’t remember where the conversation went from there, it was a little awkward but no big deal. The lights came up and I had to jump up to do my job.

As I was talking to my supervisor for a second, Mr. Confused comes over.

“I’m going to take off.”

“Um, okay, well you have my number.”

He bolts.

I thought maybe he didn’t want to stay for the Q&A for a film he didn’t see. Maybe we would meet up later?

No call, no text message, no email.

Nothing.

I’m sorry, but people get away with the craziest shit in the name of dating and it pisses me off. That’s just not right. And if I were someone else, I could have thought that he just didn’t like the look of me and so he bolted. Who knows what was going on in his life at the time, I don’t care, you don’t treat people like that.

“Maybe you should pick your dates more carefully” a friend said. He’s a Jewish day school teacher? What raises red flags about that??

I gave him a full 24 hours before I sent him this email:

Dear Mr. Confused,
I obviously can't claim to know what you're looking for, but the way that you've handled the last 24 hours is not the way you're going to find it. The fact that you bailed last night with no reason and haven't even bothered to email me saying that it was nice to meet me but there's other things going on with you is pretty disrespectful and rude. I don't care if we were supposed to be on a date or not, I think it's pretty terrible that it's okay with you that you would do that to another human being. Please think before you do something like that to the next girl you try to date.

Kinky

I felt amazing. It was so good to tell someone off like that. It’s one thing to ignore someone when you haven’t even met them in person yet. But it’s another thing to meet them, not give them a chance and then run away. Not cool.

I wouldn’t have cared if he emailed me back. In fact I expected him not to.

But he wrote this email right back:

Kinky,

I'm so sorry that I didn't handle this better. I just didn't know how to express what I was feeling.
I hope that I have learned something from this mistake.

Mr. Confused

At least “the one who went to the bathroom was funny.”

This was just lame: "didn't know how to express what I was feeling"? What the hell does that mean?

It only gets better and better doesn't it?

The one who made me cry

Just to get it out of the way if you were wondering, it was the good kind of cry: you know, the one where someone says something so sweet to you that you cry? Not the you-hurt-my-feelings kind of cry.

And also to get it out of the way, the one who made me cry, let’s call him “Sad Lawyer”, was the reason why my ipod is now broken.

Let me explain.

I met Sad Lawyer online as I meet most of these interesting characters. He was in his last year of law school, and he hated it. This dude was a downer.

Sad Lawyer and I went to another bar to talk some more. After a couple drinks, he fessed up to being recently out of a relationship. It ended because the love of his life cheated on him. Like I said, this dude was a downer. 

Somehow we got on the topic of education and the worth of each individual. I happen to believe every person in the world has some skill or talent that could be of productive use or enjoyment to the world. Sometimes individuals just don’t have the means or access to cultivate these talents. I mean how do you know you’re an amazing skier if you’ve never seen snow?

Anyway, the point is that this is a very optimistic, idealistic way to see the world. One which I suppose at the age of 29, I should have lost.  I'm very proud of this part of me, it's also what keeps me dating by the way. I am a hopeless idealist and romantic at heart.

“You’re a good person aren’t you?" Sad Lawyer said.  "Most of the people I know, including those older than me (he was 26 I think) don’t think that way anymore. We are all so jaded. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

That made me cry. It took a total stranger to look into me like that and say it to my face. I’m sure my mother has said something like that to me before, and maybe my friends think that about me. But hearing those words from an emotionally devastated stranger made me emotional. It was sort of embarrassing. 

Given Sad Lawyers' own emotional status, it is no surprise that he didn’t call me for a second date. He was probably too embarrassed too. I've found that if I drink too much on a first date, too much information is exchanged, and second dates are rare. There's also the occasional making out, but that didn't happen on this date.

But back to the dead ipod…

I had a little too much to drink I guess that night. And the next morning I had to get up relatively early for something and was a tad hungover. Not the I-feel-terrible-sort, more like the, I’m-in-a-grumpy-daze sort. I’m sure only some of that feeling had to do with the booze.

I went to the kitchen to fill my water bottle, when it was full I  put it in my purse.

“Why is your purse leaking?” My roommate asks.

What? I looked down. Shit. My purse was indeed leaking.

I was so out of it, I put the water bottle in my purse WITHOUT the top.

Oy.

Turns out that I drowned my ipod. It needs a whole new hard drive. That was several months ago and I haven’t spent the cash to get one. I work out at the gym without one.

I blame Sad Lawyer.

The one who was so obnoxious

I met Mr. Obnoxious online. He was older than me by five or six years and worked as a bartender at private parties while he was studying to become a police officer.

The fact that he was Jewish was a nice added bonus and so I figured why not? He wasn’t necessarily my type, but you never know.

Mr. Obnoxious picked me up at my house in a double-breasted pinstripe suit, brimmed hat and bald head. He was wearing a tie with a matching handkerchief. He looked like a Jewish gangster. I was wearing jeans and insisted that I change into a skirt at least just to not feel out of place. He stated that the suit was new and wanted to break it in. No problem, it was certainly different and sorta classy.

We got into, what I call, his “penis car”: a stick shift two-seater sports car. I swear Mr. Obnoxious was going to give me whiplash before we got to the restaurant by the way he drove that thing. His voice was piercing, and I could tell from the first few minutes of this date that I didn’t like him much. The fact that he hadn’t really asked me any questions about myself from the get-go was an automatic turn off. He talked my ear off about the boat he was going to move into. Not that I don’t care about boats, I just don’t need to know all the details about this particular boat.

The restaurant was nothing special. Mr. Obnoxious had made reservations though which was thoughtful. It seemed he had taken some steps to make this date nice, which I did appreciate. I mean, no one has ever shown up to a first date in a double-breasted pinstripe suit before.

So far, I just had an idea that this guy was not for me. But when we got to the restaurant it became clear that I did not wish to spend much more time with Mr. Obnoxious.

He wanted to order a rye whisky. I don’t know enough about alcohol to know what that was. But he’s a bartender, so I’ll give him that.

“Well it’s obvious which one I’m going to get,” Mr. Obnoxious said looking at the menu, “they only have three and I own two of them.” Well, good for you.

“Oh look,” I said, “they have my favorite scotches” trying to sound somewhat cultured in that area.

“Which ones are your favorite?” Mr. Obnoxious asked (probably the first question he asked me all night.)

“Talisker and Oban,” I said.

“Oh, I figured you would say that.” (What was THAT supposed to mean?)

“Well I’ve been to the breweries”

“Aren’t they called distilleries?”

Alright, fine. It seems that this date isn’t that bad yet, I see that.  But getting rather obnoxious, no?

I noticed that when I was speaking, (not that he had asked me anything, I just decided to offer up information about myself) he would start looking at the menu or something, as if he wasn’t paying attention to me. I really don't like it when people won't look you in the eye.

During one of these times when I was talking, Mr. Obnoxious interrupted me and said,

“I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but do you want to go hot tubing?”

“No,” I said. “No, I don’t want to go hot tubing.”

“Okay, that’s cool, I just didn’t want you to think I was an asshole or something.  I mean, it’s not like I just want to see you naked, although that would be cool too… it’s just a nice place to talk.”

Right.

I declined dessert and getting more drinks, I just wanted him to take me home.

As I got out of the car, I wanted to make it clear that I did appreciate the nice dinner.

“See you around,” I said... DAMMIT! I panicked.

“Really, can I call you?” Asked Mr. Obnoxious.

“Um, maybe?” I said. SHIT!

I could see in his reaction that he knew I meant, NO!

He never called me, thank the powers that be.

I found out later after telling this story to a friend’s boyfriend that the only hot tubing place in the area is a naked one.

And hence, the story of the worst first date I’ve ever had, even worse than the one who went the bathroom and didn’t come back. Sure, that date was a disaster, but at least it wasn’t painful from the moment it began.

The one who said “This isn’t a date” on our first date

Two new blog entries cause I've been slacking lately...

Jon said that he really liked what I had written on my Friendster profile. I think I might have answered the “who I want to meet” section with something brilliant like, “someone who knows who they are even if they don’t know what they want to do with themselves.” This is perfectly acceptable for someone right out of college. You know, when you know what you like to do and that you want to do something really meaningful with your life, but have no idea what that is yet.

Jon had recently lost about 50 pounds and even though I’ve never done that (I wouldn’t look like me anymore) I have an idea of what havoc that brings into your head. I’d imagine it’s similar for men and women, but still quite different. I think it’s something you never really get used to, I know my dad still has the ghost of a fat little kid sitting on his shoulder most of the time.

Anyway, I was pretty new to this online dating thing, but Jon had done some online dating before. I know this because he told me, right after I show up to dinner. He’s sitting there at the table with a friend, a girl as a matter of fact, he was sitting at the table with a girl, a girl that was down right cute!

Awesome.

It was a little awkward, of course, not knowing what the hell was going on. There’s nothing better than sitting at a table with two people that know each other really well that spend a good amount of time talking amongst themselves about people and things you don’t know anything about.

A few minutes into dinner, she says something about us being on a “date.” And Jon says flat out “this isn’t a date, dates come with too much pressure.”

Ooooohhhhhh, I see now.

He’s a pussy. Got it.

So we’re on a non-date. I know sometimes this blog gets compared to Sex in the City but this “non-date” thing is right out of an episode where Carrie meets a cute boy in glasses sitting on a fountain in Central Park.

So anyway, Jon must have thought I wasn’t worth kicking to the curb, though, because we ended up going to back to his house without the cute friend to pick up his old crippled car. Two or three years out of college, Jon lived with his parents, which unfortunately is all too normal. He had a pretty cool part time job with digital radio, but got paid crap. I think this all explains why he connected with the “not knowing what to do with yourself” statement.

I honestly can’t remember what else we did on our first “non-date.” I feel like we may have gone to see a show at the indie club down the street. But it really doesn’t matter because we never went on a non-date again. Although we kept in touch over email and sometimes ran into each other at shows.

Turns out we live in the same city again and I’ve seen him out a couple times. And when he does see me he always seems to have someone better to talk to and hang out with, and he’s still single! Ha! We’ve talked about meeting up again at a club we both like, but something else always comes up.

Last time I saw Jon he was on a blind date. We were both in line for an invitation only party (I know, swanky right?) and my friend and I were able to get in, but he couldn't, even though he was supposedly on the list too. He called me later to apologize for being so stand-offish with me which I certainly appreciated.

I’ve come to realize that he’s kind of a social climber with probably bruised self-esteem. He definitely has his sweet moments.

But, like I said, he’s also a pussy.

The one who went to the bathroom and never came back

Might as well start this off with a bang!

I do a lot of online dating. It's an easy way for me to avoid my fear of talking to cute boys that I think are out of my league. If they've read my profile, seen my pictures, and they still want to go out with me, the hard part is out of the way. It's just the actual chemistry that might be absent, but that's another story.

I met Colin online, on one of those "online dating for smart people" websites, how pretentious. We planned to meet at a bar and then go see a band I had found on myspace and was curious about. Turns out this guys is 32, grown an unemployed beard, and now that I think back on it, probably completely stoned. Not that there's anything wrong with these things, but let's just say this dude was not a winner. Conversation is fine, not amazing, but not awkward. His phone rings, he let's it go to voice mail, which I thought was classy. We've been there for about an hour, and decide to go to the club, but first he's got to go to the bathroom, and off he goes.

You know that feeling when you're out with someone, doesn't matter if it's a date or you're out with your grandmother, and they leave you at the table while they pee? It's weird right? So I wait, I watch the group of people laugh and giggle to my right, I chat with the waitress when she asks me if I want another drink. Wow, Colin has been in there for awhile... Did he fall in? Is he puking from an allergic reaction? Is he having a Ewan McGregor trainspotting moment in the loo?

"Hey, excuse me," I say to a nice looking guy that just came from where the bathrooms are, "was there someone in the bathroom just now?" "Um yea, I think there was someone talking on the phone in the stall" Hmm, interesting, maybe he really needed to call that person back...

I give it another few minutes and get another drink.

This is weird. It's been 20 minutes... I'm embarrassed now to say that I even waited that long. How long would you have stayed?

I ask another guy to see if anyone is in the bathroom? "No one in there." "Thanks anyway."

I talk to the waitress and tell her what's going on, she can't believe it. I tell her that I'm leaving and if the guy comes back, tell him that I left and that he's a big douche bag.

I feel a little BAD about leaving. What if he was on a really important phone call with his manic depressive mother around the side of the bar? What if he's puking in the street? He could have at least excused himself! I should NOT feel bad, it's not like he was super hot or anything either, the man is an unemployed stoner for gods sake!

I get home, I send him a rude email... why not?

"That was a very inconsiderate rude thing to do, please do not contact me ever again."

It felt good! He didn't write back trying to explain himself, and now I have a wonderfully horrible dating story to tell my friends...

A few months later, I get an email from him on the same dating website. He says "hi, you're interesting, want to get a beer tonight?" He's not only forgotten that he's been out with me, he doesn't remember that he went to the bathroom and didn't come back! I write back:

"I'm not going out with you. Are you an idiot or too stoned to remember that I don't go out with the unemployed?"

What a tard.