Category Archives: Do You Like Me? Check One…
Pratfalls, Hilarity, and Other Wackiness Involving a 30-Something’s Sad Dating Life.
I know…it’s been a while since I updated this ever so lovely blog regarding my brave foray into online dating. Why, you may ask? I’d like to say it’s because my career has taken off so swimmingly that I just haven’t had the time, or Ryan Reynolds finally came a-callin’ and there was no need to alert the media just yet.
Alas…there just hasn’t been that much to chat about.
There was the guy who seemed to have all the potential in the world – until I realized that it’s easy to fake minor things, such as a soul, over the phone. Sadly, I discovered that detail in person over candlelight at Apres Diem. And then there was the really cute one who I was ready and set to schedule that second date with…but evidently he thought I was as interesting as a documentary on bark chips because in two weeks, I have yet to hear back from him. I only contacted him once following the date – and I am a firm believer that if I toss the ball into a guy’s court and he doesn’t toss it back within the next day or two, well, DELETE.
Judging by the last couple of months, it appears game-playing is still alive and well in the thirty-something world. Which doesn’t sit well with me because I hate games worse than whatever latest unholy terror Kesha – excuse me, Ke$ha – is unleashing these days. So I don’t play the games. I feel like I’m probably being punished by Los Dating Gods for all my games from college – because I played them like it was Candyland back in the day – and so now the universe sees fit to impart my past sins on me times three. Or ten. There ARE voodoo dolls out there and I have an ex or two in New Orleans, last time I checked.
I thought it was refreshing to be honest. I’m not saying I jump into a guy’s lap in the middle of a bar and giddily exclaim, “Boy, I like you, Sparky! What do you think about naming our first kid Sparky Junior? I think ‘My Heart Will Go On’ would be great for our first dance. Isn’t Celine rad?” But if I’m having a good time by the end of the date and would like to see him again, I would think telling someone that might be, I don’t know, a good thing. The last time I enjoyed our little excursion, I even waited until the next day and simply shot him a quick text saying exactly that – I had a good time and would like to see him again. Never heard back. Then I realized…I had completely forgotten about the Waiting Rule: Hold off for three days before even remotely indicating you are into someone. Don’t call, text, email – nothing. Supposedly we women like to be kept guessing. I don’t know what delusional men’s magazine is feeding guys this crap, or if it’s held over from fraternity days, but I am discovering it, like skinny man-jeans and guy-liner, is still alive and well. I have just misread the profiles who say they like “refreshing honesty.” That phrase just means, “Tell me my Camaro rocks while I’m waiting for my pencil mustache to grow in. Isn’t my Members Only jacket hip and retro?”
I know several of my friends are trying out these internet dating sites. I have, in very simple terms, broken down the true definition of each phrase within a guy’s Match/Chemistry/Fish In The Zoosk Sea Who Want eHarmony profile.
- He says: “I’m just an easy going guy”
- He means: “I want no-strings-attached sex.”
- He says: “I like to cuddle and watch movies”
- He means: “I like sex on the living room couch.”
- He says: “I have a successful career”
- He means: “I like sex on the office couch.”
- He says: “I’m looking for someone well-rounded”
- He means: “I want someone who likes whips and chains as well as missionary.”
- He says: “I’m ready to settle down with the right woman.”
- He means: “I want to have sex with whoever buys into this line.”
See? It’s pretty simple. Three basic rules I’ve learned for online/blind dating.
1) If he texts you before he has ever spoken a word to you, run off screaming into the night as though you were being chased by the likes of Amy Winehouse because he is about as mature as a member of “Jackass” in 1986.
2) Wait three days returning said phone call and, most importantly…
3) Never, ever let them know you really like them. You can sleep with them, but only if you truly don’t care.
Ironically, men say they hate that book, “The Rules,” from a few years ago, but hey – from what I’m seeing, it still applies. Holy 2001, Batman!
Which is why I’m absolutely no good at this. I hated “The Rules.” I have a lunch date on Sunday at a bistro over in Peachtree Hills…ironically, the same place I went on my last date. I’m thinking about making it appear as though I absolutely detest him. Perhaps throw a ciabatta at his face and shout something about never calling him again. Maybe I’ll at least get a second date that way. In his absolutely bitchin’ Camaro.
As you know, I joined Match.com out of curiosity recently. Date #1? Eh. Very nice guy, cute as well and tall – but about as much spark as a wet match. So we had a fine conversation over wine and an appetizer in Midtown, and I was already at karaoke on North Avenue by 10pm. Thus ending the Saga of Cat and Guy #1.
Enter Guy #2. We’ll call him Liberal Attorney Guy. We exchanged a couple of texts and everything seemed to be going well. Plans were made to meet up last Friday for an after work drink and miraculously, his ankle – which, granted, he had already told me was in a boot – retwisted and he had to stay off of it all weekend. Could we do lunch next week? I let him know that honestly, I don’t get lunch breaks at my current job, but I was happy to reschedule an after-work drink. Of course, this was all done via text. As it was with Guy #1. So following I haven’t heard back from Liberal Attorney Guy, except a TEXT at 11pm asking if I was still up. I was, but I had a better date with “Justified” and a glass of wine.
Guy #3. Let’s refer to this one as Boat Guy. Again with the texts. And Homeskillet was 40 years old and ought to know better. We actually spoke on the phone, at long last, and commenced having what I took as being a good conversation. We made dinner plans for Tuesday evening. And then came the text. At 6:30 on Tuesday night. “Sorry, can’t make it. Crazy busy at work.” I wrote him back with an alternate date….nothing.
Lesson #1 Learned from Match.com: The amount of texts sent to a girl you have never spoken with is directly correlated with the level at which you are a tool.
I have a couple of tentative dates lined up this week. Another attorney tomorrow evening. Possible meeting in the Highlands on Friday. We shall see. I have specifically asked them not to text. To call instead. Otherwise, the mathematical equation indicating tool-hood applies. I have enough tools in my past to supply an entire Home Depot. I didn’t pay for an online dating service to add another couple of hammers to the lot.
Stay tuned. More hilarity will ensue, I’m sure!
So now that I am settled in my new Brookwood area home, I decided the other day that – due to my nearly nonexistent dating life – I would give the whole online dating thing a try. I would like to have something more in common with someone than “Hey, we like the same beer!” which is what happens when you meet that special drunken someone at your local pub. I’m tired of losing my guy friends when we try to date and realize there’s a reason why we are just friends. Thus, hello Match.com.
I signed up Wednesday night. By Thursday morning, I was swamped. Perhaps I shouldn’t have put my airbrushed head shot as my main photo? Yeah, words to live by. I found out that 37 guys had winked at me, which, if that were to happen in real life, I would throw the nearest sharp and potentially painful utensil at him. Nothing says 1983 Camaro and porn-star mustache quite like winking. I also learned you could see who viewed your profile – and this wound up agitating me. You read my profile and didn’t feel like winking? But my profile is cute and witty and sassy! Mirthful, even! What’s wrong with you?
Ultimately I did wind up chatting with a couple of possible suitors. One asks interesting desert-island style questions and owns a boat. (Insert Andy Samberg joke here.) Another made me laugh out loud at work so now my boss thinks I have Tourette’s – I was supposed to be posting ads, not chatting with random ITP guys online. And the third has set up a blind date with me tonight.
It almost didn’t happen. He wanted to make the date earlier so he could watch the basketball game, and if that had actually come to pass, I would have un-winked him. Or whatever it is you do on Match. Basketball my ass. I’m cuter than basketball players and can certainly form a complete thought with slightly more ease. Luckily he redeemed himself by agreeing to miss the game, so we are still on tonight. We shall see what happens. We are meeting at a West Peachtree restaurant so I will have Zippy the Faithful Miata in tow should something atrocious occur, such as discovering his love for Nickelback or an unfortunate affinity for Affliction T-shirts.
Stay tuned for Episode 2! Hilarity is sure to ensue…