If you have seen the Drew Barrymore movie, 50 First Dates, then you know, in the movie, she has amnesia and experiences each date with the same person as the "first date." Not to take anything away from this movie, I changed the number to 51.
Once you have gotten to the point where well meaning friends have run out of cute "possibilities" to match you up with, you're going to have to try a new venue for dates. That brings online dating into the picture and an entirely separate blog. Anyway, back to "51 and counting"...if you want to date with no end result in mind, well think of it like this...sailing on Columbus' ship a week before spotting the New World..if you knew the end of the story, you'd know the only thing to do is go forward..but since you don't, you're just one kind of pissed off rowdy sailor chomping at the bit to throw someone overboard.
I have lots of girlfriends with tons of advice...like "don't focus on the looks, focus on compatibility" or "look for men who want a long term relationship instead of those who are just..well, looking." The results of that, at least for me, have been boredom interspersed with a little humor.
So, for me..dating for just the sake of dating..well, I've got re-runs to watch on television, hair to blow dry and reality t.v. shows that I've already seen once or twice. Sitting with random strangers over food/drink really does leave me uninspired. AND, it is always food and drink..I mean, why doesn't anybody want to play a round of Just Dance on the WII or a round of ping pong (I'm going to do some profile revisions and start requesting these).
Anyway, #51 was "Buzz" - the name should really say it all. Not his real name, a nickname. So, Buzz was the unfortunate player in my ambivalence on a Saturday night. On paper - well the perfect match. In real life..a little short at 5' 8", since on a good day, I am minimum 5' 10", with any kind of a heel 6". Add to that the fetish I have always had "looking-up-at-a-tall guy", well, I really had to focus on what's really important in life or so I told myself...anyway, there are always flats at Target, right?
Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore, it is "chat" or "text." However, breaking this rule, he was actually nice, kinda funny, smart sounding, in tune with current events and that kind of appealed to the "snob wannabe in me". So, against my golden rule, I started to kinda get excited...I had a date, a real, official date. I even mentioned it on Facebook...breaking another golden rule.
So, #51, Saturday date night arrives and we meet at Applebee's for drinks and dinner. I don't want to be too unkind about his appearance since it's really not a deal-breaker), but let's just mention that based on photos, I was expecting a version of Clive Owen or a younger version Harrison Ford...what I got was a short, chunky version of Philip Seymour Hoffman...add to that, he kept making statements about carrying "a few extra pounds" or how he is "taller in his other shoes"...I hated that it mattered to me, of all unfair double-standards, like a politician trying to get all the "uglies" out of the way at the starting gate, plus I never like to be judgemental...I'm probably carrying a few extra pounds for Pete's sake. But, it mattered to me. There, I said it. Guilty. I hate it that dating is uncovering some of the lesser aspects of my nature.
We ordered drinks, small talk for an hour, ordered another drink, ordered an appetizer...at least I'm out socializing..right? Clearly, this guy liked me saying "You're so sexy and smart." and, my favorite "I love how you pronounce the words when you order off the menu." Okay, are you kidding me? Really? There is absolutely no guide book for dealing with this type of man, tripping-over-himself-to-impress-me, like me. Sooooo....let me get this right, you really like me and you're telling me so? Like, two hours after we've met? I must admit, this made me slightly uneasy, like in the next moment he would show me an appendectomy scar.
Halfway through the appetizer, something got caught in his throat..and he started coughing. At that point, conversation was quite limited, people were staring and he kept coughing...coughing, coughing, until he produced what my kids call a lougie (something between a booger and phlegm all balled together which is spit out). Yep, he spit it out, right in front of me. Now, I'm queasy. This isn't the end of the story...once he coughs up the phlegm he pulls out a pack of Marlboro Red's and says..."I'm just going to step outside and cop a smoke." I looked around for a camera crew for the American Lung Association, filming a commercial, warning against the dangers of smoking.
While #51 is outside for what seemed an eternity, I dug out a $50 dollar bill and motioned for the waitress to pay the tab.
Lesson in Date #51 - bad men are scary, but nice men are absolutely terrifying!! He was nice enough when we left, asking if he could call me to see if I got home and if we could go on another date. I just smiled and said...maybe. Gutless on my part, I admit it. Anyway...what do you do when there is absolutely zero spark...negatory on the chemistry...no identifiable "butterflies"...or anything near it. All I could think was...it cost me $20.00 to have my hair flat-ironed. Oh well. Gotta work on that. Perhaps, if I just stick with this process, the day will come when I see land..like Christopher Columbus.
Once you have gotten to the point where well meaning friends have run out of cute "possibilities" to match you up with, you're going to have to try a new venue for dates. That brings online dating into the picture and an entirely separate blog. Anyway, back to "51 and counting"...if you want to date with no end result in mind, well think of it like this...sailing on Columbus' ship a week before spotting the New World..if you knew the end of the story, you'd know the only thing to do is go forward..but since you don't, you're just one kind of pissed off rowdy sailor chomping at the bit to throw someone overboard.
I have lots of girlfriends with tons of advice...like "don't focus on the looks, focus on compatibility" or "look for men who want a long term relationship instead of those who are just..well, looking." The results of that, at least for me, have been boredom interspersed with a little humor.
So, for me..dating for just the sake of dating..well, I've got re-runs to watch on television, hair to blow dry and reality t.v. shows that I've already seen once or twice. Sitting with random strangers over food/drink really does leave me uninspired. AND, it is always food and drink..I mean, why doesn't anybody want to play a round of Just Dance on the WII or a round of ping pong (I'm going to do some profile revisions and start requesting these).
Anyway, #51 was "Buzz" - the name should really say it all. Not his real name, a nickname. So, Buzz was the unfortunate player in my ambivalence on a Saturday night. On paper - well the perfect match. In real life..a little short at 5' 8", since on a good day, I am minimum 5' 10", with any kind of a heel 6". Add to that the fetish I have always had "looking-up-at-a-tall guy", well, I really had to focus on what's really important in life or so I told myself...anyway, there are always flats at Target, right?
Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore, it is "chat" or "text." However, breaking this rule, he was actually nice, kinda funny, smart sounding, in tune with current events and that kind of appealed to the "snob wannabe in me". So, against my golden rule, I started to kinda get excited...I had a date, a real, official date. I even mentioned it on Facebook...breaking another golden rule.
So, #51, Saturday date night arrives and we meet at Applebee's for drinks and dinner. I don't want to be too unkind about his appearance since it's really not a deal-breaker), but let's just mention that based on photos, I was expecting a version of Clive Owen or a younger version Harrison Ford...what I got was a short, chunky version of Philip Seymour Hoffman...add to that, he kept making statements about carrying "a few extra pounds" or how he is "taller in his other shoes"...I hated that it mattered to me, of all unfair double-standards, like a politician trying to get all the "uglies" out of the way at the starting gate, plus I never like to be judgemental...I'm probably carrying a few extra pounds for Pete's sake. But, it mattered to me. There, I said it. Guilty. I hate it that dating is uncovering some of the lesser aspects of my nature.
We ordered drinks, small talk for an hour, ordered another drink, ordered an appetizer...at least I'm out socializing..right? Clearly, this guy liked me saying "You're so sexy and smart." and, my favorite "I love how you pronounce the words when you order off the menu." Okay, are you kidding me? Really? There is absolutely no guide book for dealing with this type of man, tripping-over-himself-to-impress-me, like me. Sooooo....let me get this right, you really like me and you're telling me so? Like, two hours after we've met? I must admit, this made me slightly uneasy, like in the next moment he would show me an appendectomy scar.
Halfway through the appetizer, something got caught in his throat..and he started coughing. At that point, conversation was quite limited, people were staring and he kept coughing...coughing, coughing, until he produced what my kids call a lougie (something between a booger and phlegm all balled together which is spit out). Yep, he spit it out, right in front of me. Now, I'm queasy. This isn't the end of the story...once he coughs up the phlegm he pulls out a pack of Marlboro Red's and says..."I'm just going to step outside and cop a smoke." I looked around for a camera crew for the American Lung Association, filming a commercial, warning against the dangers of smoking.
While #51 is outside for what seemed an eternity, I dug out a $50 dollar bill and motioned for the waitress to pay the tab.
Lesson in Date #51 - bad men are scary, but nice men are absolutely terrifying!! He was nice enough when we left, asking if he could call me to see if I got home and if we could go on another date. I just smiled and said...maybe. Gutless on my part, I admit it. Anyway...what do you do when there is absolutely zero spark...negatory on the chemistry...no identifiable "butterflies"...or anything near it. All I could think was...it cost me $20.00 to have my hair flat-ironed. Oh well. Gotta work on that. Perhaps, if I just stick with this process, the day will come when I see land..like Christopher Columbus.
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