Thursday, October 7, 2010

J: He liiiiiikes me!

It’s true.

We had a fabulous date last night. (Truly, a DATE…
all of that...it wasn't just a line!)

He picked me up from dance classes and took me out for a very, very expensive dinner downtown, bottle of champagne, fabulous dessert (Basil ice cream?!?…Serious yum, people!) and fascinating conversation followed by singing at the top of our lungs in a piano bar and a delicious makeout session…which led to…more… including a sleepless night and exhausted but ridiculously smiley day.

I like this man.

He likes me.

We’re still “taking it slow”…whatever that means.

If “slow” is more dates like last night…I’ll take it!

S: Mr. September...Still Meh

Lunch was had.

The post could pretty much end there...that's how special it was. But who am I to be concise?

With little enthusiasm, but the determination to give the guy a solid second chance, I met Mr. September at the appointed lunch spot. He went for a hug and I did the sort of arm around, half hug thing. I just don't want to hug the guy.

The place was crowded and I noticed a local joint across the street that he had to try if he had never had their food before, so I asked if he wanted to relocate. He was up for it, so off we went. We had to hop in our cars to cross the busy, suburban commercial district street.

It is a this time that I notice we drive the same kind of car. Yet another thing in common. Why do I have no interest in this person?

We got there, he noticed we drive the same car and seemed delighted by the commonality. I’m thinking, “Crap, he thinks we have all this stuff in common, so this thing is really working.” We made our stuff-in-common commentary and went inside to feed our faces.

He immediately indicated that lunch was on him, which again I thought was very kind. As much as I appreciate chivalry, I still don’t find myself expecting a guy to pay every time. It’s nice when he does. It indicates a level of good treatment that is attractive, no matter the situation.

We got our food and sat down to munch on local deliciousness and work on some chit chat. And that’s what it was…work. Once again, it just felt a little awkward. We have a lot in common, yet our conversation doesn’t flow. We don’t seem to really connect. It was like having lunch with someone you are interviewing for a job with.

I keep wondering why the messages from him were so cute and entertaining, but talking to him is awkward and stunted and uninteresting. What I have realized is that the conversation isn't much different from an email. Paragraph. pause. Paragraph. pause. Paragraph...you get it. No flow. No back and forth exchange. Toss it up...knock it down. Pause for reload.

The whole date just wasn’t that great. In fact, thinking it had been more than an hour and that I needed to get on with my day’s activities, I checked my phone and made noises about needing to leave only to realize it hadn’t even been an hour. I just didn’t feel like staying. I wasn’t engaged.

With my last two boyfriends, the dates always went on forever. Even though we didn’t have all this stuff in common, the conversations would be so engaging that it was hard to end the evening. With this guy, every lull is an opportunity to start gnawing my leg off where it’s caught in the trap.

Finally, I said that I really had to go. I did have some things I needed to accomplish, so it wasn’t a lie. We made our way outside and then stood and talked some more. Because he wouldn’t just go.

At some point he had asked about my plans for the weekend. Halfway through telling him I didn’t have much on the calendar, I realized he was fishing for my availability, so I started going into all the things on my 'to do' list. And, in all reality, there is a lot I need to get done this weekend, so again, no lie.

At my car he asked about seeing a movie if I had some time over the weekend.

Dammit!

I told him I wasn’t sure. That it all depended on some things I was trying to get worked out today that I needed to focus on if I couldn’t get them figured out. He recovered by saying that he would probably lose track of the weekend doing yard work.

And then, after a bit more awkward conversation, he went for the hug again. Ugh. This time he held on and did the extra squeeze thing.

O.k., seriously, what is this guy feeling? Do these encounters not feel awkward to him? Does this actually seem to be going well in his mind? Because, no kidding, I…feel…nothing. If I never saw or heard from him again, I would not be disappointed. Not that he’s a repulsive person, but there’s just nothing between us.

And now, the new challenge is that we have reached the point at which I need to tell him nothing’s going to happen. Later in the afternoon after lunch, he texted asking if I wanted to go see a show next week. I asked if I could get back to him.

The deal is, I can’t let him buy me a ticket to a show…no matter how much I would love to go…because I know I don’t want to go with him and it’s way too much for him to spend on me for no reason.

So I have to strap on a pair and call him and tell him this is the end of the road. Which sucks. But I can’t lead him on. That’s not fair.

Besides, as Jane so astutely pointed out to me, if he’s already going for the hug, the next thing on his list is a kiss.

Noooooooo!

So long, Mr. September.

Why am I doing this again? When can I crawl back under my spinster rock?

Monday, October 4, 2010

S: Mr. September...Take 2

I'm giving Mr. September another chance. Mostly because he asked if I wanted to get lunch and lunch is one of my 6 favorite meals, so how could I resist?

Actually, I figure he deserves another chance. We have a lot in common, and his messages and texts make me giggle. You would think there would be something there. Right? Seriously, on paper, it should be the most fun ever.

Too bad I'm dead inside.

O.k., it's possible I'm being a tad melodramatic.

But really, I'm not sure how it will go. Despite the fun messages, the first get together lacked sparkle and felt awkward. But it was late. I was tired and distracted by the delicious street vendor food. Maybe this time we'll connect. Maybe the chain restaurant food will not be more interesting than the kind fellow providing it. Maybe the conversation won't feel so forced and on the surface.

Or maybe it will and we won't connect again. No biggee. I recall wanting to play the field a bit at the beginning of this year. Here's my chance. I'm going on a date. I can't play the field if that date turns into a game of Life with us cruising the board in a pink car with 2.5 kids and a dog. That just doesn't even sound fun.

Of course, it's not a Date Club sanctioned date, so I'll have to go on another one this month if I don't want to feed the piggy. And that might take some work. I haven't wanted to try too hard lately.
And pickin's be slim on the Cupe.

Wait a minute. It seems as though my Date Club fembuds both have guys who aren't stupid and who do call them back and say they don't want to be broken up, which means I will end up with the contents of Sir Piggy all to myself. So maybe I do want to skip dates and load him up.

Maybe Mr. October will be a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine and a stack of ridiculous come-ons from my Ok Cupid inbox. And piggy will get a little bit fatter for ol' Sheila.

As I thought from the beginning...I shall be the last dater standing. Muahahahahaha!

(Anyone who accuses me of throwing the game will get a big giant boohoo story about my broken heart and how I will never love again. Try me. I'm gonna get me some shoe money.)