Another one bites the dust.

I went on a casual coffee date at the Grumpy’s in midtown on Sunday afternoon (above is the art installation that was being put in). We corresponded casually on OkCupid and the day before I realized that his photos were all of the side of his face. I had no idea what the front of his face looked like. But I knew I’d recognize him because he had a huge beard and reddish hair. We had coffee and chatted. He seemed a bit nervous. I could tell sort of right away that we wouldn’t really click, but I spent an hour chatting with him incase I was wrong. 

We went from Grumpy’s to Gregory’s. While at Gregory’s he asked me if we had a spark because he felt it off and on. I said not really. He asked if I’d want to have a second date to see how things were going to go. I politely declined. 

So, we amicably went our separate ways after 90 minutes and after I declined to get brunch with him. 

I think I need to start dating different types of guys (no Bros though, please). I’ve just been hitting and missing in the last week. 

I might need to take a break all together. 

Back on December 4th, I joined a march for Eric Garner and against police brutality. While we were stopped on the West Side Highway, I asked a dude what was being said or happening further away then I could see (he was tall). We continued chit chatting for a little while and then in the midst of a confrontation between police and protestors, we lost each other.

The following Saturday I decided to post on “Missed Connections,” fully expecting nothing. I wrote every piece of information that I could remember about him. A few days later, after I’d forgotten about the post, I got an email. It was him. His friend (who, he said, was the kind of person who spent free time reading Craigslist ads) had found it and forwarded it to him.

We met up a few days later after we both marched (separately) in the Millions March. It turns out that he was a fan of Buddhism and regular meditator. We also both loved John Lennon. And reading, among other things. It was really nice. It was easy. We meditated together. He met one of my best friends. He was completely honest with me about how he felt (and it was good) and I was with him too. I was pretty sure he was one of my soulmates.

Then he found out that he’d gotten accepted to a great school to go to their post-bac pre-med program and everything changed (understandably). He wasn’t a science person and he was trying to make himself one so he needed to study. And study, and study more. We decided last week when he came downtown to have lunch with me that it was for the best not to date anymore. He just didn’t have the time that he wished he had.

It was hard and it sucks. But it was also the logical decision. I still believe he was one of my soulmates, but as Elizabeth Gilbert points out above, it doesn’t always mean that’s the person you’re meant to be with.

I’m still trying to sort out what the lesson was that I was supposed to learn from these past two months. I’m sure it’ll come to me when I least expect it. Just like he did. 

I read the Tumblrs of ladies who are on the dating scene in and out of New York City and more than occasionally I am shocked and awed at how OK some ladies are with being touched by strangers. Not guys they’ve been speaking to on OkCupid or where ever for a while, but guys they’ve just met in a bar. They talk about Dude X or Y putting their hands on their thighs or whatever like it’s validation of how hot they are and that it’s not completely (in my humble opinion) inappropriate.

I went to my neighborhood on Monday night to wait out the storm and watch it get bad (spoiler alert: it never did). I love going to bars with a book, having a pint, eating something, and talking to strangers. I talked to the few people that were in there for the long haul for quite a while and one was flirting with me hardcore. I was not flirting back. He kept putting his hands on my thigh, hand, and back and each time I’d tell him not to touch me. He’d just keep doing it and then apologize right after.

He also took to calling me “sweetie,” which I also told him to stop immediately and, of course, he didn’t listen. When he asked for my phone number, I declined to give it to him (obviously) but I felt bad so I told him to find me on Facebook. I ignored his friend request.

Twelve hours later I woke up to an email from my account associated with this blog. He Googled my name, found this blog, and emailed me. I guess guys things that a refusal to give out a number, followed by an ignored friend request, is an invitation to cyber stalk and email you.

I emailed him back nicely and told him that no, I don’t want to see him again and for these reasons. He seemed apologetic and I felt kind of bad.

But not really. 

How It Went: My Side

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So, this happened. I’d kind of been in the pool of people they could pick from for a while but our schedules finally lined up and I said OK. At worst, it was a good story and free drinks. 

My words that were printed are accurate. I kept telling Dana, the editor, that there was no chemistry but he was a nice guy who just wasn’t right for me. I didn’t want to be portrayed like this asshole. Luckily, I don’t think I was. (But totally tell me if I was!)  And my side is only one side, but this is how the date went from my perspective:

I arrived at the restaurant and waited for a short while. He was about five minutes late – not awful. Like I said in the magazine, he seemed flustered and nervous. After he told the hostess who he was, I immediately introduced myself, we shook hands (or maybe we hugged? I don’t remember) and we were seated. 

I could tell sort of immediately by the silence that followed our being seated that I was going to need to lead the conversation. I had no interest in sitting in silence with a stranger. I knew he wasn’t my type when he appeared in the doorway all flustered and nervous (come on, this is a harmless date) and he didn’t look like my type physically but I thought, “he could be a really awesome person if we have stuff in common, let me dig." 

So, digging I went. I asked him what he did (publicist), where he lived (Astoria), what his favorites movies/TV shows/bands (Alkaline Trio was literally the only band he could name) were, I asked where he went to school, I asked him if he had pets, I asked what his hobbies outside of work were. 

Unfortunately, we had nothing in common. And I mean nothing. I had really hoped to find some sort of commonality to build a connection off of with him even though he wasn’t really my type physically. 

Awkward moments: There were more than one. (1) In the magazine I said he asked for a half-time report on how I thought the date was going (you’re 33, dude, if you have to ask, you know the answer isn’t good.), and when I answered honestly, he looked defeated. Sorry, dude, I’m not going to lie to you. (2) When we ordered drinks, I ordered some pink martini thing and he ordered a virgin bloody mary. I asked him if he was sober and told him that was totally cool if he was cool, but he just shook his head and said he wasn’t in the mood to drink. Well, whatever. I had two because conversation was pretty boring. (3) When he told me to stop asking questions and doing all the talking because he ”didn’t want a bad write up in the magazine.“ It became pretty apparently that he was worried about a bad write-up in the magazine more than actually getting to know the person sitting across from him. Also: when I stopped talking, he didn’t talk. So, I kept talking. (4) More than halfway through I realized I gave zero fucks about impressing this person because there was no chemistry. I may have been reading Kingdom Coming at the time so that’s possibly how we got on the topic of abortion and who should be deciding whether or not it’s legal. He thought the states should decide for themselves whether or not it’s legal. I told him that he was very entitled to his opinion but he was a dude, and has never and will never need to have an abortion, so I didn’t think he should have a say either way. 

Now I’m not sure how someone who works as a publicist and has to talk to people for a living is so bad conversationally, but he was probably just super nervous. He also had no confidence. After he answered questions a couple of times, he’d circle back and ask, "did my answer sound too unambitious/bad/whatever?” Dude, just be yourself.

He asked me to “make a pact” at the end of the date to not say anything negative in the magazine. What?! Like I said, he was only concerned with his write up. I said OK. 

Afterwards: After dinner he asked if I wanted to go to a bar (why, I thought, so you could not drink some more and we can continue this amazeballs conversation we’re having?!) and asked twice for my contact information. I declined all three of those requests as nicely as I could and went home, relieved it was over. 

I’m not big into wasting my time with someone that I can’t hold a conversation with on a date anymore. I have no problem saying to someone, “you’re really nice, but we have nothing to talk about,” and it was no different in this situation. 

This was really just a case of having no chemistry with someone. He’s not a bad person, just maybe slightly awkward. I’ve been told by a few dates/friends lately that I’m easy to talk to and that I have a “certain energy” abut me, so I’m not too worried about what this dude thought. He got rejected. I understand his hurt feelings.  

I’ve had people tell me since the magazine has come out that, “Look at him. Someone like you would never go for someone like him,” which they mean as a complement, but I feel like it’s kind of insulting. My attraction to someone is based more on personality than looks. I, of course, have a type, but it’s more than that. 

This was an interesting experience (I got what I thought I would: free drinks/appetizers and a good story!) that I’d never do again. Even though Time Out asks you a few questions about yourself, I don’t think they really work at trying to set people up who might be compatible. 

I’m nothing like Carrie Bradshaw. I hate shoes. I hate shopping. I especially hate shoe shopping. I hate designers, too. Four hundred dollars for a pair of shoes? No, thank you. But… BUT I did have an experience similar to hers over the last few weeks.

I met a guy who I instantly sparked with. We had a ton in common and couldn’t stop talking. But… BUT he had (still has, I’m assuming) a girlfriend. His actions and words were incredibly confusing despite this fact so much so that I’ve had to pull away from our agreement to be bffs and each other’s show and movie-going buddies. 

Just bad timing, I suppose. 

I had to let him go, correct? Correct. 

Dodging the Bullet

I got a text from a friend last night with a screen shot of a FB update from my ex. He was still pondering and thinking about what might have been if he’d have gotten married three years ago yesterday. He claimed it left him with some “emotional scaring." 

Understatement of the century. It was a three years ago, dude. Get some therapy STAT and get over it. 

A Bad Combination

I had a helluva day at work yesterday. After kicking ass for almost three weeks straight, some shit hit the fan. All at the same time. (That said: I’m trying not to think about it endlessly and kill myself over it.)

After a bad day do you know what’s not a good idea? Going on a date. With alcohol. And no food. But you know what I did?

I went on a date. After a bad day. Had two drinks. Without food.

Yeah, it was spectacular. After he announced that his 34 year old self really wanted kids. I should’ve just left it there but I didn’t. I ended up yelling at him. 

Obviously I’m not seeing him again (nor would I want to), but I did send him a message this morning apologizing for being so… feisty (?) on my his first date in 3 years.

Let’s review the math: Date + drinks + bad day = A bad combination.

Lesson learned. 

Why I Never Expect a Dude To Pay

My new thing is to chat with guys very seldom before I meet them. Otherwise you develop this ridiculous person that you think they are based on their texts and it’s usually incredibly off.

So, I went on a date last night with a guy who, online, in the brief time I’d chatted with him, seemed nice enough. He was cute – in a quirky way. We met at Ninth Ward downtown. It looked like a cool place and they had happy hour.

He was nice. He was really nice. And he was kind of cute in person. Still quirky. But there were way too many pauses in our conversation. I didn’t know what to say to him, and even worse, I didn’t care. I just wanted to finish my beer and go home. And eat. I was really hungry and I didn’t want to order food there and have to spend more time with this person who I’d never see again. 

We decided we’d split the very minimal check (thank you, happy hour!) and when his debit card was declined twice, I picked up the tab. I was kind of pissed he didn’t even offer to swing by an ATM.

This is why I’ve never been on a date where I haven’t offered to pay my half. I can’t imagine how annoying it is to always pay for dates, even when they’re not going well. Sometimes the guys decline my offer, but sometimes they accept. 

Lesson here is: Ladies, it’s the 20th century. Don’t expect your date to pay for your alcohol or food. 

Awkward side note: Just noticed that this dude checked out my profile again at 2am last night. Oy vey. 

Something new. (Sort of.)

Am I the only one that has been out on first dates where the guy has at least 4 drinks? I can’t be the only one. I think New York is swimming with guys who have drinking problems simply because we don’t have to worry about driving. Anyways, I went on a date today with a guy who does everything in his power not to go anywhere for drinks or food on first dates. He’s not in AA, but he just likes to lift the alcohol blinders off his dates. Which I can totally understand and appreciate. 

We met in Central Park, in Strawberry Fields, with our DSLRs in hand, ready to take pictures and wander the paths. He was really nice. But slightly odd. We never took a single picture, but we wandered the paths for a couple of hours and talked. When I asked him how his experience dating in New York has been, he replied, “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.” As though, why would you ever think about that instead of just going on with your day? 

It was an odd experience. At one point he said, “Can I be honest with you for a second? You seem defensive,” which I definitely was because I had no idea what to make of this guy. I wasn’t really expecting anything, but he was unlike any guy I’ve met recently.

That said: I don’t really think he was a spark so I most likely will not be seeing him again.

That said, part deux: I’d like to try this Dating Sans the Alcohol Blinders thing again soon. 

I made the (what I now realize may have been a) mistake of sending my ex a photocopied chapter of the book I’m currently reading that I thought he could really relate to.

Well, he emailed me today and rehashed again how he thinks he needs to be single now and how things never would’ve worked anyway, and blah, blah, blah. It took every bit of restraint I could muster up not to tell him to go fuck himself. And it’s not because I hate him, because I don’t. He just does this all the time and I’m over it. If he wants to play the victim and to get validation that how he acted was OK and that I forgive him, well, he’s not going to get it. Not yet, at least. 

But I didn’t say that. I didn’t tell him to go fuck himself. Instead I wrote back asking him to stop replaying the past to me every time we communicate (which has been few and far between in the weeks since things ended). The past is in the past. And I’m still processing my hurt and, to be blunt, pissed off feelings about the whole thing, but I’ll be OK. I’m working on it in therapy and in my meditation practice (which is, I can almost say this for sure, more than he’s doing).

I just keep telling him to be well, because, well, that’s all I really can do.