I recently updated my dating profile with the equivalent of "I'm about to have a little person so dating isn't really on my agenda" followed by "Status: Dead to the World".
I expected this to be enough avoid messages from interested parties. My miscalculation was that it meant I'd now get messages from a segment of the dating pool that I hadn't considered before: the pregnant chick fetishists. I'm still working on my standard response to these guys but I think it'll look like this:
Dear weird guy who can't take a social cue or read for basic comprehension,
No, I don't want to have sex with you. Generally, I don't want to have sex with anyone that just outright asks me this question as an opening line, but especially not with someone that only wants me because I'm gravid and extra awkward feeling. Also, you are older than my Dad. Good day.
Or something to this effect. Revisions and thoughts welcome though I'm probably just wasting my breath with these guys.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sometimes it takes a Tranny to help you find your way to the "Friend Zone"
So I'm on the third date, We have been on one date in my neck of the woods and I have traveled upstate to his neck of the woods and now it's time for the date where I meet all his friends. It's a house party and they have set up the karaoke machine. No big deal I can sing but it is always awkward to sing for like 8 people. Everyone is quite nice and I have enjoyed meeting them all. I think it was the best date so far because the guy I had been seeing (let's call him Shazbot) has finally loosened up at this party and seems to really be acting like himself instead of acting like a nervous wreck. So it gets to the end of the party and it's just me, Shazbot and one of the hosts of the party we'll call him Barry. Now Barry appears to be a very handsome and sweet young man but Barry has been chugging beers all night long and from what I have heard from Barry's girlfriend he does not do this very often. So I'm standing on the steps outside with Shazbot and out comes Barry to have a cigarette. Barry says to Shazbot "So why haven't you kissed her yet? She seems nice we all liked her, What's wrong no chemistry?" So we are both are staring at Barry a bit mortified so I say "I don't know he hasn't' put the moves on me yet" thinking this will be the end of it. Oh No, Barry is no where from done with this bout of diarrhea of the mouth. The next thing Barry said was not something I was expecting. "MsDmode did you know that I'm a pre-op transsexual female to male?" to which I said "no I just met you tonight I just thought you were a handsome young man." So Barry proceeds to go on and on about since he used to be a woman he can relate to what we are both feeling. I'm thinking if you related so well to women why are you now a man but I digress. Barry also goes on and on about other girls Shazbot has been dating off the website we met on and then goes on and on about how we should just fuck and get it over with. At this point I'm thinking this date is doomed and I just let Barry go on and on with his drunk self because at this point I think this is too funny and it can't get any worse. Needless to say after this date the relationship moved into the friend zone and now Shazbot and I just trade knowledge about Doctor Who and Zombie lore. Thank you Barry for awkwardly landing this relationship square in the friend zone.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Shenanigans of a 6’3 Smelly Liar
I started this adventure on a dating website and was emailed by Smelly Liar to see if I was interested in chatting and getting to know each other. I proceeded to chat online with Smelly Liar and he seemed nice so I gave him my cell phone number so we could text. Over the next few days he mostly seemed nice but my first red flag was that he really wanted me to come over to his place 24 hours after I had started chatting with him for a one on one dinner in his home for his birthday. I thought this was strange because usually you would already have plans for your birthday (I found out later he does not really have any friends). So while we were texting on Saturday afternoon we made a date for a Monday night to meet. We had settled on meeting at a local beach and then walking over to a local brewery for dinner and drinks or so I thought. Over the next 24 hours he started to change the plans over and over and over. I should have known then to put a stop to this date. If you have to send someone a text that states “Make a freaking decision and jut tell me where and what time to show up!” there is probably an issue. Needless to say Monday rolls around and I pull into the parking lot of the restaurant I’m meeting him at.
So here are some highlights:
* The pictures on his Facebook and dating website profile have got to be at least 10 years old.
* Did not try to look nice (work boots, dirty jeans, hair did not look combed)
* Seemed to lack some basic hygiene (body odor, and this odd smell that was either ash tray or maybe smelled like bong scrapings)
* Took me to the worst/cheapest conveyor belt sushi place and raved about it. It was so horrible! I ended up eating 2 plates of cooked California Rolls and then went home and ate a nice big spinach salad.
* Shared with me that he sold his daughters mini bike so he could afford to take me out on a date.
* Proceeded to tell me about a cyst he had on his nut sack 10 years ago that he thought was cancer and this experience was what started him on the path of smoking weed of which lead into asking me if I smoke.
* Told me he had a present for me of which he forgot and then had to tell me all about it (some vinyl records of some sort)
* Had previously told me he was a DJ but when I asked about it he said well not so much anymore because I pawned most of my equipment.
So let me elaborate…..
When I pulled up to the restaurant I knew it had to be him standing out front and right away I wanted to step on the gas and just text him some excuse as to why I could not show up, but right when I was about to do it I get a text from him that state “Oh I see you parking now”. Rats! Now I have to get out of my car. The only thing this guy did not lie about when it came to his looks was the fact that he was 6’3. He said he was 37 but man this guy looked closer to 50 years old. He was wearing dirty work clothes and seemed to lack in the general hygiene department. Needless to say I walk into this Sushi place and it just looks old and dingy. As I scan the place I see the conveyor belt with what looks like day old sushi trekking its way around the restaurant. Meanwhile Smelly Liar’s eyes are the size of saucers he’s so excited to sit down and eat. So we sit down and upon a closer look at the dishes going by I notice the little bonnet/hood type covers they put over the plates look dirty, broken and generally appear that they have covered approximately 2,058 previous sushi concoctions. Needless to say I’m not impressed and I don’t really want to eat here, but I venture forth to find something I’m comfortable with grabbing off the belt. I choose some California Rolls because I figure at least everything is cooked and I should be safer that way. I take my first bite and its warm, I’m thinking wow how does this place stay in business and then I look over at my date that at this point is finishing his second plate full and telling me how wonderful it is. I just nod my head and say “Yeah this is great I’ll have to remember this place and tell all my friends” (sometimes I’m just too nice).
So we make a bit of small talk, where do you work? Yes I enjoy my job. Blah, blah, blah Then I ask him if he always has Monday’s off from work and he tells me “No I only have Saturdays and Sundays off but I always have my kid on the weekend so I took today off just to meet you. I’ve been so nervous all day.” I’m thinking to myself that this seems weird to me. Personally I probably would not take off a day of work for a first date, but to each their own, right? So insert a bit more small talk and I mention “Wow you seem to really like it here you’ve had 6 or 7 plates of sushi, at least it seems pretty affordable here.” To which his response is “Yeah this is one of my all time favorite places to eat. I can just eat and eat and eat and it’s just so cheap! Although I’m totally broke at the moment so I had to sell my daughters mini-bike just to afford our date tonight.” So this guy is telling me that he sold off some of his daughters belongings just to afford shitty sushi with me, boy does this really make me feel special. Now all I can think is, poor kid. So dinner literally lasts 25 minutes and he says to me “So where’s this beach you wanted to take me to?” and I’m thinking I don’t want to take you anywhere, but instead what I really say is “Oh do you still want to go there? I thought since you changed the venue of this date so many times that this was all we were doing.” He says “No let’s go walk on the beach, so how do you get to this Mukilteo beach?” to which I reply “Didn’t you say you’ve lived here in this area since you were fifteen? How have you never been to Mukilteo?” He just says “I don’t know.” I tell him to just follow me there in the car.
So where off down the road and I think to myself that maybe I can speed and totally loose this guy then I’ll just text him that the sushi made me sick. My idea is quickly dashed when he rides my ass, sticking closer to my bumper then white on rice. We get to the beach and if you have ever been to this beach it’s not very big and it has a paved path that leads from the boat launch to the end of the beach. We walk and chat the length of one trip down the path and he says “Whew can we sit I’m whipped out?” I’m thinking we walked all of three minutes but okay. We are talking about family and he’s telling me he comes from a great big Catholic family when he asks me “So do you want to have kids soon? I want to have a whole bunch more kids, I only have one right now but I totally want more.” I’m thinking WOW does this guy come on strong but I tell him yes I’d love to have kids but I have no need to rush into anything. This line of conversation though starts taking a turn for the worse when he decides to tell me about a prostate cancer scare that just ended up being a cyst on his nut sack so everything ended up being alright but it caused him to go donate sperm for future children and got him hooked on smoking pot for the pain which lead him to ask me if I smoke pot. At this point I’m tuning this guy out and thinking what excuse I can use to get away from this cystoidal, smelly, nut sack of a man!
Basically while this guy goes on and on about some gift of vinyl records of some bands he thought I would like since he can’t use them anymore since he pawned all his DJ equipment. I think to myself, you know what self I don’t care what you say to this colossal retard you are going to leave Smelly Liar right here on this bench and go home. I chicken out and just tell him “Thank you for the lovely evening but I have to get home before dark and walk my dog.” (it’s lame I know but I promise I will make up for it later). So I get in my car and drive home and I cannot believe how crazy that whole date was. So while I’m home decompressing from this cluster fuck I decide to write this guy an email that says the following:
Hi Smelly Liar,
Thank you for the lovely time last night but I just don't feel a vibe between us. I would like to break it off now before anyone is to emotionally invested. I don't like to play games so I will not lead you on and try to be your friend. I think a clean break is best. I apologize for doing this in an email but I admittedly dislike confrontation which I'm sure is a disease of the digital age. If I may make a suggestion (for future dates) I feel like you tend to over share a bit. I think the story about the cyst on your nut sack is a bit much for a first date and you probably should not share with a girl that you had to sell one of your daughters possessions in order to take them out on a date it's not conducive to making a girl feel comfortable with you. I would also put some current photographs of yourself online instead of some that are pretty obviously a few years old.
I truly wish you the best of luck on your search for love I'm sorry it wasn't me.
Again thank you so much for dinner,
MsDmode
(Still to fucking nice, I know!)
So here are some highlights:
* The pictures on his Facebook and dating website profile have got to be at least 10 years old.
* Did not try to look nice (work boots, dirty jeans, hair did not look combed)
* Seemed to lack some basic hygiene (body odor, and this odd smell that was either ash tray or maybe smelled like bong scrapings)
* Took me to the worst/cheapest conveyor belt sushi place and raved about it. It was so horrible! I ended up eating 2 plates of cooked California Rolls and then went home and ate a nice big spinach salad.
* Shared with me that he sold his daughters mini bike so he could afford to take me out on a date.
* Proceeded to tell me about a cyst he had on his nut sack 10 years ago that he thought was cancer and this experience was what started him on the path of smoking weed of which lead into asking me if I smoke.
* Told me he had a present for me of which he forgot and then had to tell me all about it (some vinyl records of some sort)
* Had previously told me he was a DJ but when I asked about it he said well not so much anymore because I pawned most of my equipment.
So let me elaborate…..
When I pulled up to the restaurant I knew it had to be him standing out front and right away I wanted to step on the gas and just text him some excuse as to why I could not show up, but right when I was about to do it I get a text from him that state “Oh I see you parking now”. Rats! Now I have to get out of my car. The only thing this guy did not lie about when it came to his looks was the fact that he was 6’3. He said he was 37 but man this guy looked closer to 50 years old. He was wearing dirty work clothes and seemed to lack in the general hygiene department. Needless to say I walk into this Sushi place and it just looks old and dingy. As I scan the place I see the conveyor belt with what looks like day old sushi trekking its way around the restaurant. Meanwhile Smelly Liar’s eyes are the size of saucers he’s so excited to sit down and eat. So we sit down and upon a closer look at the dishes going by I notice the little bonnet/hood type covers they put over the plates look dirty, broken and generally appear that they have covered approximately 2,058 previous sushi concoctions. Needless to say I’m not impressed and I don’t really want to eat here, but I venture forth to find something I’m comfortable with grabbing off the belt. I choose some California Rolls because I figure at least everything is cooked and I should be safer that way. I take my first bite and its warm, I’m thinking wow how does this place stay in business and then I look over at my date that at this point is finishing his second plate full and telling me how wonderful it is. I just nod my head and say “Yeah this is great I’ll have to remember this place and tell all my friends” (sometimes I’m just too nice).
So we make a bit of small talk, where do you work? Yes I enjoy my job. Blah, blah, blah Then I ask him if he always has Monday’s off from work and he tells me “No I only have Saturdays and Sundays off but I always have my kid on the weekend so I took today off just to meet you. I’ve been so nervous all day.” I’m thinking to myself that this seems weird to me. Personally I probably would not take off a day of work for a first date, but to each their own, right? So insert a bit more small talk and I mention “Wow you seem to really like it here you’ve had 6 or 7 plates of sushi, at least it seems pretty affordable here.” To which his response is “Yeah this is one of my all time favorite places to eat. I can just eat and eat and eat and it’s just so cheap! Although I’m totally broke at the moment so I had to sell my daughters mini-bike just to afford our date tonight.” So this guy is telling me that he sold off some of his daughters belongings just to afford shitty sushi with me, boy does this really make me feel special. Now all I can think is, poor kid. So dinner literally lasts 25 minutes and he says to me “So where’s this beach you wanted to take me to?” and I’m thinking I don’t want to take you anywhere, but instead what I really say is “Oh do you still want to go there? I thought since you changed the venue of this date so many times that this was all we were doing.” He says “No let’s go walk on the beach, so how do you get to this Mukilteo beach?” to which I reply “Didn’t you say you’ve lived here in this area since you were fifteen? How have you never been to Mukilteo?” He just says “I don’t know.” I tell him to just follow me there in the car.
So where off down the road and I think to myself that maybe I can speed and totally loose this guy then I’ll just text him that the sushi made me sick. My idea is quickly dashed when he rides my ass, sticking closer to my bumper then white on rice. We get to the beach and if you have ever been to this beach it’s not very big and it has a paved path that leads from the boat launch to the end of the beach. We walk and chat the length of one trip down the path and he says “Whew can we sit I’m whipped out?” I’m thinking we walked all of three minutes but okay. We are talking about family and he’s telling me he comes from a great big Catholic family when he asks me “So do you want to have kids soon? I want to have a whole bunch more kids, I only have one right now but I totally want more.” I’m thinking WOW does this guy come on strong but I tell him yes I’d love to have kids but I have no need to rush into anything. This line of conversation though starts taking a turn for the worse when he decides to tell me about a prostate cancer scare that just ended up being a cyst on his nut sack so everything ended up being alright but it caused him to go donate sperm for future children and got him hooked on smoking pot for the pain which lead him to ask me if I smoke pot. At this point I’m tuning this guy out and thinking what excuse I can use to get away from this cystoidal, smelly, nut sack of a man!
Basically while this guy goes on and on about some gift of vinyl records of some bands he thought I would like since he can’t use them anymore since he pawned all his DJ equipment. I think to myself, you know what self I don’t care what you say to this colossal retard you are going to leave Smelly Liar right here on this bench and go home. I chicken out and just tell him “Thank you for the lovely evening but I have to get home before dark and walk my dog.” (it’s lame I know but I promise I will make up for it later). So I get in my car and drive home and I cannot believe how crazy that whole date was. So while I’m home decompressing from this cluster fuck I decide to write this guy an email that says the following:
Hi Smelly Liar,
Thank you for the lovely time last night but I just don't feel a vibe between us. I would like to break it off now before anyone is to emotionally invested. I don't like to play games so I will not lead you on and try to be your friend. I think a clean break is best. I apologize for doing this in an email but I admittedly dislike confrontation which I'm sure is a disease of the digital age. If I may make a suggestion (for future dates) I feel like you tend to over share a bit. I think the story about the cyst on your nut sack is a bit much for a first date and you probably should not share with a girl that you had to sell one of your daughters possessions in order to take them out on a date it's not conducive to making a girl feel comfortable with you. I would also put some current photographs of yourself online instead of some that are pretty obviously a few years old.
I truly wish you the best of luck on your search for love I'm sorry it wasn't me.
Again thank you so much for dinner,
MsDmode
(Still to fucking nice, I know!)
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Type_River's Rules of Engagement
So, I've fully committed myself to this online dating adventure. "Sure I'll meet you for drinks after a couple of emails and a phone call" I mean, why not if someone isn't giving me a serial killer vibe and you can make me laugh in an email? So often in the past, I've wanted to meet people, but then chickened out or over thought it.
I've been on a couple of dates now and while I fully intend to chronicle the best of the worst here. Especially if the two hours I've spent in your company has made me consider becoming a suicide statistic. I've come up with some important rules to make this whole filtering process easier and faster for everyone involved.
If you are going to be boring - be catacylismicaly boring. Be so boring that you make me fear that the universe has run out of energy and is grinding to a halt and you are just more tuned into it than the rest of us.
If you are going to be late, please don't tell me until I'm already at the agreed at location (I'm on time, more proof that I'm actually trying here) so I can sit there awkwardly trying not to replay scenes from bad romantic comedies where the girl gets stood up and the wait staff asks her to leave when closing. This gives me plenty of time to text message my friends in hopes of getting sympathy even though I know I'll just be mocked. (I might need better friends)
Please don't answer any questions with more than 3 words. I like that horrible silence between us as I watch you chew your food. It also gives me a chance to listen to the constant white noise buzzing in my ears and reminds me to buy ear plugs for the next concert I go to.
I'm sure there is more... but I have a date soon and I have to get prettied up. But I have to say that my biggest problem is with the dates that are neither great or bad. I don't know what to do with these stories, they don't amuse my coworkers or make them jealous and I can't write about them. So in closing, just do me a favor and be one or the other boys - great (kisser, conversationalist, dead baby joke teller) or really bad (no personality, rude, smelly) because I'm looking for good stories.
I've been on a couple of dates now and while I fully intend to chronicle the best of the worst here. Especially if the two hours I've spent in your company has made me consider becoming a suicide statistic. I've come up with some important rules to make this whole filtering process easier and faster for everyone involved.
If you are going to be boring - be catacylismicaly boring. Be so boring that you make me fear that the universe has run out of energy and is grinding to a halt and you are just more tuned into it than the rest of us.
If you are going to be late, please don't tell me until I'm already at the agreed at location (I'm on time, more proof that I'm actually trying here) so I can sit there awkwardly trying not to replay scenes from bad romantic comedies where the girl gets stood up and the wait staff asks her to leave when closing. This gives me plenty of time to text message my friends in hopes of getting sympathy even though I know I'll just be mocked. (I might need better friends)
Please don't answer any questions with more than 3 words. I like that horrible silence between us as I watch you chew your food. It also gives me a chance to listen to the constant white noise buzzing in my ears and reminds me to buy ear plugs for the next concert I go to.
I'm sure there is more... but I have a date soon and I have to get prettied up. But I have to say that my biggest problem is with the dates that are neither great or bad. I don't know what to do with these stories, they don't amuse my coworkers or make them jealous and I can't write about them. So in closing, just do me a favor and be one or the other boys - great (kisser, conversationalist, dead baby joke teller) or really bad (no personality, rude, smelly) because I'm looking for good stories.
Responding to my first CL ad
Newly Single and Looking -
A simple headline that drew me in with hints of shared pain and experiences. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of almost 3 years in the past 2 weeks. Maybe this guy and I could at least chat and have dinner.
Nothing gets you over a breakup and the resulting down on yourself feeling faster than realizing that other people still think you are worth being around. I know folks, it's a poor excuse for true self esteem, but after this last break up, I'd take any dose of good I could get.
So I responded to Music Man, just told him about my new year's resolution not to do the LTR thing for a year, how I was learning to arrange my life without thinking about someone else for a change, and that I liked to roller skate. He responded and we exchanged emails that grew longer and longer. He had broken up with his girlfriend of 10 years...
Let me just say that again: He had broken up with his girlfriend of 10 years.
It was safe to say that this meant he was more damaged goods than I was, but it also meant I got the chance to play my favorite role - crazy fun sprite-like girl.
Okay, with this spirit possessing me, we make the first date for a sushi joint. He can't eat with chop sticks, but he's game to try. Bonus points for him.
Oh, a little side note: if you like sushi or something similar that requires unusual utensils, this makes a fantastic first date. Even if they are a dud, watching them struggle with the chopsticks should liven up your night.
We chatted and it was nice. Afterwards we wandered around the UVillage and swapped crazy ex's stories. I still hadn't made a decision about him yet.
Then he did it; he called her his girlfriend.
It just kind of hung there in the air...until I busted up laughing. Music Man had placed himself firmly into my friend zone with that comment. Which isn't a bad place to be.
Well, CL, you didn't get me laid, but I didn't get killed by some psycho and I did welcome a new friend into the fold. Dating mission #1 accomplished.
A simple headline that drew me in with hints of shared pain and experiences. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of almost 3 years in the past 2 weeks. Maybe this guy and I could at least chat and have dinner.
Nothing gets you over a breakup and the resulting down on yourself feeling faster than realizing that other people still think you are worth being around. I know folks, it's a poor excuse for true self esteem, but after this last break up, I'd take any dose of good I could get.
So I responded to Music Man, just told him about my new year's resolution not to do the LTR thing for a year, how I was learning to arrange my life without thinking about someone else for a change, and that I liked to roller skate. He responded and we exchanged emails that grew longer and longer. He had broken up with his girlfriend of 10 years...
Let me just say that again: He had broken up with his girlfriend of 10 years.
It was safe to say that this meant he was more damaged goods than I was, but it also meant I got the chance to play my favorite role - crazy fun sprite-like girl.
Okay, with this spirit possessing me, we make the first date for a sushi joint. He can't eat with chop sticks, but he's game to try. Bonus points for him.
Oh, a little side note: if you like sushi or something similar that requires unusual utensils, this makes a fantastic first date. Even if they are a dud, watching them struggle with the chopsticks should liven up your night.
We chatted and it was nice. Afterwards we wandered around the UVillage and swapped crazy ex's stories. I still hadn't made a decision about him yet.
Then he did it; he called her his girlfriend.
It just kind of hung there in the air...until I busted up laughing. Music Man had placed himself firmly into my friend zone with that comment. Which isn't a bad place to be.
Well, CL, you didn't get me laid, but I didn't get killed by some psycho and I did welcome a new friend into the fold. Dating mission #1 accomplished.
bitter is always funny right?
I didn't have a computer for FOREVER so a good friend loaned me a laptop so I could get online and reconnect with the world away from my live-in ex boy who I'll call Social Security (because I've only heard of old folk falling for this).
Well, I got a slick new laptop for Xmas and he kept using the old extra one my friend loaned us. At some point, I found a Western Union transfer to some girl in Nigeria with $500 price tag on it. Okay, Social Security and I are broken up and I have no right to ask about it. I only found it because I was stealing laundry quarters. The issue is dropped.
When I moved out, he returned the laptop and my friend went through it to clean out any crap she didn't want. While cleaning she found a snapshot of a scam - 2 letters and 2 IM conversations between Nigeria girl "hunnie" and Social Security. Long story short, he sent her $2800. This hunnie got more cash out of the tightwad than I did over the course of 3 years. Now, I don't like a guy spending a lot of money on me so that's not the point. The point is that the guy who told me I'm terrible with money sent a SERIOUS chunk of change to Nigeria because some girl called him hunnie. The pain comes from reading a letter that says how much more romantic this woman is than me.
I'm moving on now, but whenever I feel a little hurt that I'm not as romantic as someone who may or may not actually be a woman; I think I'll call him up and call him hunnie while picturing his cringe factor.
We all deal in different ways.
Well, I got a slick new laptop for Xmas and he kept using the old extra one my friend loaned us. At some point, I found a Western Union transfer to some girl in Nigeria with $500 price tag on it. Okay, Social Security and I are broken up and I have no right to ask about it. I only found it because I was stealing laundry quarters. The issue is dropped.
When I moved out, he returned the laptop and my friend went through it to clean out any crap she didn't want. While cleaning she found a snapshot of a scam - 2 letters and 2 IM conversations between Nigeria girl "hunnie" and Social Security. Long story short, he sent her $2800. This hunnie got more cash out of the tightwad than I did over the course of 3 years. Now, I don't like a guy spending a lot of money on me so that's not the point. The point is that the guy who told me I'm terrible with money sent a SERIOUS chunk of change to Nigeria because some girl called him hunnie. The pain comes from reading a letter that says how much more romantic this woman is than me.
I'm moving on now, but whenever I feel a little hurt that I'm not as romantic as someone who may or may not actually be a woman; I think I'll call him up and call him hunnie while picturing his cringe factor.
We all deal in different ways.
...but you work on seaplanes?!
This was post break-up, dating freedom mission #2.
This particular guy was from another dating website. I'm going to call him BrainSlug. His emails were short but interesting and he was quick to want to meet. We didn't share much in the way of interests, but I figured he was a seaplane mechanic and a pilot during the summer so he would at least have good stories to tell.
I set up all my normal first date safety nets up (I know his full name and place of employment - information that I've given to a close friend who I will text message before a certain time...after this time, they will call me. If I don't answer they will begin to panic and I had better be in trouble because they are calling in the cavalry) and agreed to meet him for dinner and a movie. This was his idea.
It's the holiday season and I'm feeling pretty good. On my way there though, I have the strangest series of experiences.
First, there are like 300 people all dressed up as Santa Claus and beyond drunk wandering around. One of them throws a beer can in the back of my pickup. They are everywhere and I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. Was there an event that I had heard nothing about?
After navigating the Santa Clauses, I find a good parking place. It happens to be on the same street as my date's car. I know this because he is driving an old diesel British taxi his father and he had just gotten somewhere in Portland. They are pretty distinctive. Then the second strange thing happens: a cop is ticketing the taxi. I park my truck and walk over to the cop. Our conversation goes like this:
"Hi, I have a question. I couldn't find any signs and I'm not sure if it is okay to park there (wave vaguely in the direction of my truck) because if it isn't, I'd rather just move it and save you the trouble of writing me a ticket." I say and smile.
"Where? There, that's fine," says the cop, all gruff and not thinking for a second that I'm funny.
"Okay, thanks." I hesitate and then plunge on, "One more question please. I have a blind/first date with the guy whose car you are ticketing. Should I tell him before or after the date that he got a ticket?" (in retrospect, the blind/first date thing is a stupid thing to say since all blind dates are first dates)
He sort of just blinks at me, then almost smiles (I AM funny, I am!) and says "Don't ruin the date from the get go. I wouldn't tell him if I were you."
Vital advice since I really wasn't sure what to do about it. The cop keeps chatting with me now and wants to know when the date will be over since his father used to repair these cars back in England and he'd like to chat about them. I tell the cop 10 and move along to my date...
I meet him at the bar and he looks nothing like his pictures but I do so he picks me out of a crowd of drunk Santa Clauses. We go to some Mexican restaurant where I begin to realize I'm doomed to listen to the buzzing in my ears. Every question meets with a 3 word or less answer. He won't say much about his job, has no funny stories about clients he's flown into the San Juan islands, and doesn't ask me anything. It's like having dinner with someone with a Brain Slug. I'm not eating my food and when he gets up to use the restroom, the waitress comes over to ask concernedly if it is okay. I tell her it's a first date and she shakes her head pityingly. The check comes and he's annoyed that I balk at splitting it. Hey buddy, I had the $5 salad and no drink and you invited me out. Grudgingly he offers to get this, but says that I can get the movie tickets. Fine.
Dinner has taken less than 30 minutes so it is too soon to go to the theater. He wants to wander around. I wore comfortable shoes and I'm all for wandering up and down this long busy brightly lit road, but the very very tall man wants to go down the quiet residential streets. He flashes more annoyance that I'm not interested in checking out the inside of the taxi even if it has the original ads on the seats.
I buy the movie tickets and he buys himself a box of Junior Mints. He asks if I want anything, but I figure that he means he'll pick something up for me but I'll have to reimburse him. Besides, I just had a holiday sugar overload at work and the last thing I want is more candy. We find seats.
The next 10 minutes drag on painfully as the theater fills up. He doesn't say anything to me except to repeatedly shake the box of junior mints in my face and ask if I want any. Over and over until I threaten with no humor to take them away and throw them under the chairs.
The movie finally starts and is good. No Country for Old Men is excellent and completely reminds me of Cormac McCarthy's books in style and pacing. (I haven't read this one) When the movie was over, I stand up quickly and dash for freedom.
Damn damn damn...I parked on the same street, now there will be that awkward goodbye where he might want to touch me...help help help. And there help is: the cop. I see him coming, wave my goodbye to the date that made me understand the trapped animal's desire to chew my own leg off, and dash for my truck.
So, I learned a lot from this date. Firstly, if a cop is the highlight of your date, it can officially be labeled as bad. Secondly, I always set up a special text code with one of my friends. If they get it, they are to call with a "girl emergency" so I can get away. We call them code blues. It's been a blast to make them up. Thirdly, don't let holiday sugar impair your dating judgment people.
This particular guy was from another dating website. I'm going to call him BrainSlug. His emails were short but interesting and he was quick to want to meet. We didn't share much in the way of interests, but I figured he was a seaplane mechanic and a pilot during the summer so he would at least have good stories to tell.
I set up all my normal first date safety nets up (I know his full name and place of employment - information that I've given to a close friend who I will text message before a certain time...after this time, they will call me. If I don't answer they will begin to panic and I had better be in trouble because they are calling in the cavalry) and agreed to meet him for dinner and a movie. This was his idea.
It's the holiday season and I'm feeling pretty good. On my way there though, I have the strangest series of experiences.
First, there are like 300 people all dressed up as Santa Claus and beyond drunk wandering around. One of them throws a beer can in the back of my pickup. They are everywhere and I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. Was there an event that I had heard nothing about?
After navigating the Santa Clauses, I find a good parking place. It happens to be on the same street as my date's car. I know this because he is driving an old diesel British taxi his father and he had just gotten somewhere in Portland. They are pretty distinctive. Then the second strange thing happens: a cop is ticketing the taxi. I park my truck and walk over to the cop. Our conversation goes like this:
"Hi, I have a question. I couldn't find any signs and I'm not sure if it is okay to park there (wave vaguely in the direction of my truck) because if it isn't, I'd rather just move it and save you the trouble of writing me a ticket." I say and smile.
"Where? There, that's fine," says the cop, all gruff and not thinking for a second that I'm funny.
"Okay, thanks." I hesitate and then plunge on, "One more question please. I have a blind/first date with the guy whose car you are ticketing. Should I tell him before or after the date that he got a ticket?" (in retrospect, the blind/first date thing is a stupid thing to say since all blind dates are first dates)
He sort of just blinks at me, then almost smiles (I AM funny, I am!) and says "Don't ruin the date from the get go. I wouldn't tell him if I were you."
Vital advice since I really wasn't sure what to do about it. The cop keeps chatting with me now and wants to know when the date will be over since his father used to repair these cars back in England and he'd like to chat about them. I tell the cop 10 and move along to my date...
I meet him at the bar and he looks nothing like his pictures but I do so he picks me out of a crowd of drunk Santa Clauses. We go to some Mexican restaurant where I begin to realize I'm doomed to listen to the buzzing in my ears. Every question meets with a 3 word or less answer. He won't say much about his job, has no funny stories about clients he's flown into the San Juan islands, and doesn't ask me anything. It's like having dinner with someone with a Brain Slug. I'm not eating my food and when he gets up to use the restroom, the waitress comes over to ask concernedly if it is okay. I tell her it's a first date and she shakes her head pityingly. The check comes and he's annoyed that I balk at splitting it. Hey buddy, I had the $5 salad and no drink and you invited me out. Grudgingly he offers to get this, but says that I can get the movie tickets. Fine.
Dinner has taken less than 30 minutes so it is too soon to go to the theater. He wants to wander around. I wore comfortable shoes and I'm all for wandering up and down this long busy brightly lit road, but the very very tall man wants to go down the quiet residential streets. He flashes more annoyance that I'm not interested in checking out the inside of the taxi even if it has the original ads on the seats.
I buy the movie tickets and he buys himself a box of Junior Mints. He asks if I want anything, but I figure that he means he'll pick something up for me but I'll have to reimburse him. Besides, I just had a holiday sugar overload at work and the last thing I want is more candy. We find seats.
The next 10 minutes drag on painfully as the theater fills up. He doesn't say anything to me except to repeatedly shake the box of junior mints in my face and ask if I want any. Over and over until I threaten with no humor to take them away and throw them under the chairs.
The movie finally starts and is good. No Country for Old Men is excellent and completely reminds me of Cormac McCarthy's books in style and pacing. (I haven't read this one) When the movie was over, I stand up quickly and dash for freedom.
Damn damn damn...I parked on the same street, now there will be that awkward goodbye where he might want to touch me...help help help. And there help is: the cop. I see him coming, wave my goodbye to the date that made me understand the trapped animal's desire to chew my own leg off, and dash for my truck.
So, I learned a lot from this date. Firstly, if a cop is the highlight of your date, it can officially be labeled as bad. Secondly, I always set up a special text code with one of my friends. If they get it, they are to call with a "girl emergency" so I can get away. We call them code blues. It's been a blast to make them up. Thirdly, don't let holiday sugar impair your dating judgment people.
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