Mr. Bad Attitude

January 4th, 2010

In order for this "date" to make any sense to an outsider, a little background is in order as to what was happening in my life during the weeks leading up to it.  Looking back (it was actually only a few months ago), I think I have a pretty good handle on why I was doing what I was doing, but you know that hindsight is blah blah.

If you've read any of my previous entries, you probably get the feeling that I have some masochistic tendencies and denial is no stranger to me (to say the least).  So, while I'm going on all of these dates, doubleheaders here, makeout sessions there, my divorce is sucking the life out of me more than Murky Dismal ever did (yeah, that guy) and I was trying harder than anything to distract myself from it.  My estranged ex, battling his own demons, was trying to win me back with every tactic he could muster: manipulation, guilt, memories, the slow death he was creating for himself, this, that, the other thing.  It became such a stress on me (Am I a bad person because I won't take him back?  Am I selfish for trying to protect my well-being?  I mean, I loved the guy) that I decided to find some trouble to get into.  Naturally, this would give me a good excuse to shift all of my worries to myself instead of him.  Yeah, it's stupid, but that's what I did.

Are you ready for this?  It's really, really idiotic.

With this mindset I was absolutely ready for Mr. Bad Attitude to chat me up.  During our online conversations (so gay) he referred to me as "Jerk" and "Fag" which reminded me of my ex.  Hahahahaha, it's so sad that this is true!  I wanted the negativity so badly because it made me feel like someone else was in control and I could just calm down.  What?  I don't know.  He was smart, but very cynical and self-loathing.  Sounds like a great date!

On my quest for what I can only imagine was a physical injury or some sort of trauma, I agree to meet Mr. Bad Attitude at HIS HOUSE which is 45 minutes away from me.  The plan is to watch movies in his room (very 9th grade).  Um, was I trying to get attacked?  Yes, yes I was.  I am somewhat conscious of this fact and gave two friends the address of the house where I would be and told them to call the cops if they didn't hear from me by midnight.  Off I went.

FIRST IMPRESSION:  His apartment has all of the lights off (creepy) so I can't really see him when I enter.  I notice how short he is as I follow him to his room and once in the light see he is bespectacled with facial scruff.  Not fat, but built sort of like he sits still all day with a semi-hog nose that I actually really like.

Things are immediately weird.  Duh.  He has Barbarella playing with the sound off and brings out Cherry Garcia for us to eat.  Apparently, I eat like a child and got ice cream all over the spoon handle so he didn't want any.  I ask him, "So, what do you do all day?" and he responds, "You're lookin' at it."  Mind you, he was slouched on his bed with his remote control in his hand. 

We watch Roller Boogie with Carrie Fisher and then he proceeds to tickle me.  A lot.  I assume this is his sort of entry into kissing, but it was really confusing because it lasted too long.  Eventually, I just pretend to laugh and then finally stop altogether because I was pretty annoyed.  We end up making out (we are in his room) and he (surprise, surprise) tries to have sex with me.  I say no and then he starts acting bratty.  I feel bad and actually sort of scared that he'll force it anyway.  I mean, he probably could have.  SO GLAD he became bratty and upset.  I decide I need to leave and look at my cell phone.  I have 24 missed calls and 10 voice messages.  Oops.  I failed to call my friends (and also but my phone on vibrate).  Needless to say the cops were two seconds from knowing my whereabouts and one of my closest friends was one second from stabbing me herself.

The close call that was my evening with Mr. Bad Attitude set in on my drive home and I avoid talking to him at all costs.

Date #16:  Chilling, but not chilling enough to stop the bad behavior.  Plenty more to come!  Sheesh.

Doubleheader Part 2: Mr. Westside

January 3rd, 2010

As you might have guessed, I opted for another Doubleheader, or two dates in one night.  Mr. Westside had a cool, east coast situation going on and while his puffy jacketed-photos were not necessarily a turn-on, I liked his serious face and taste in music.  Plus, his being a recent transplant piqued my interest at the prospect of playing tour-guide to his naive little soul.  Delusional, aisle 1.    Drinks were set for my side of town, because, let's face it, poor thing was clueless (he lived in Hollywood for crying out loud).

I actually spaced this Doubleheader out more than the last one so I had some downtime between dates.  I decided that this is not the way to go.  The lull between dates just made me sleepy (there was not enough time for a nap, but plenty of time to sit in my car and ponder my life, not smart before a blind date).  Introspective and somewhat fussy, I emerged from my car to greet Mr. Westside outside of the bar.

FIRST IMPRESSION:  He has a swagger (always a plus), but is wearing an extremely over-sized white dress shirt which quickly cancels out any initial points for swagger.  He has chubby little cheeks and buzzed hair.  Overall, not unattractive.  Personality will weigh in a lot here.

He buys my drink and we sit at a booth near the door (important for a later reason).  Pleasant chit chat ensues and I like listening to his Boston accent (accents to girls represent experience, travel, mystery even if the man possesses none of those actual qualities).  He is attending some music institute and blah, blah, blah I don't really remember because he wasn't selling me on his interesting life.  His youth is apparent (26ish) which only adds to my waning interest since his personality is lackluster and I'm not particularly attracted to him.  I feel sort of sorry for him and try to keep the conversation going until at least my drink is done.  I force myself to ask questions about his plans, his music career, and we spend a good amount of time talking about our Italian grandparents.

I'm over it and start looking for an out.  Just as luck would have it, Mr. Got No Game enters the bar with his bandmates.  I had been avoiding his texts and emails so this wasn't really a a good thing.  I become noticeably uncomfortable and Mr. Westside asks what's wrong.  I spill the beans and we quickly make a getaway.  Mr Got No Game TOTALLY sees me and I again feel bad.  I use this as an excuse to dodge a goodnight kiss and promise that we'll hang out again (a lie).  At this point I realize that dating is taxing and I need a massage.  Not from Mr. Westside.

Date #15:  Eye-Opener.  If I keep this up, I may need to move soon.

Doubleheader Part 1: Mr. Anti

January 3rd, 2010

Mr. Anti was a toss up for me.  I wasn't really into his looks via internet pictures, but he did have a mischievous smirk that caught my eye.  Sort of like a Leprechaun.  Don't look at me, I have no explanation for that attraction.  After chatting a bit, I was hesitant to meet with him because he said he didn't have a car and only rode his bike everywhere.  SO, if we were going to meet it had to be within his biking parameters.  This realllllllly cramps my style.  And I will not apologize for judging a potential date on his mode of transportation.  No, you don't have to have a fancy, schmancy car, but can it at least have a motor?  I agreed to meet him only because he was persistent.  Well, also because the place he suggested is a regular haunt of one of the guys I used to date, Mr. Stupid Short Guy and I liked the idea of his friends seeing me on a date.

We set the date for early evening and as I pulled up to the spot I realized how awkward it would be to meet him in MY fancy, schmancy car (it's for work!), so I park a little ways down the street.  As I put on a coat of lip gloss, listening to some forgotten soul song, I see him arrive on his bicycle.

FIRST IMPRESSION:  He is extremely pale, wearing a wife beater and dirty shorts, backpack and cap.  I'm very disturbed by the amount of leg he is showing.  Also, he's a ginger, my first.  He's sweating profusely.

I duck down in my car and debate whether or not to ditch.  I finally decide that it's not nice to be ditched and force myself into the establishment.  Apparently, he went to the bathroom to change his clothes.  Now I feel bad because he's clearly trying.  My feelings of sympathy go out the door as soon as we sit down and he orders his beer on a SEPARATE TAB.  We all know how this makes me feel.

THEN!  A friend of Mr. Stupid Short Guy was working at the bar that night and came up to us.  He didn't realize I was on a date.  Probably because we were playing Scrabble.  Yeah, Scrabble.  Side note:  I get really competitive and scary with board games or competitions of any sort.  I was stressed out because Scrabble isn't really my bag (I do, however, excel in Clue).  So Bartender Friend starts chewing the fat with me.  Mr. Anti is obviously confused and irritated.  Hah.  Then Bartender Friend asks me if I have a cigarette, which I don't because I don't smoke, and then I look at Mr. Anti who has a startled look on his face (my profile claims I'm "non-smoker" material).  Great, this is heading downhill fast.

Bartender Friend finally flees the scene and we get back to chatting (which is really distracting me from the game, mind you).  Here are the things he talks about (he did most ALL of the talking):

• His famous cousin who played some superhero in a recent blockbuster movie and how he worked as his cousin's personal assistant (totally name dropped, gross)
• How he is anti-car and Big Oil, but then it turns out he really just can't afford it at the moment.  Hmm...
• Dieting.  What I should and shouldn't eat if I am trying to lose weight and how he is a major stickler when training someone (SCARY)
• Being some sort of martial arts expert (I learned a lot about this but I am falling asleep thinking about it)
• His therapist and how she thinks he needs to "get laid" more (Seriously?  You really should wait until the 3rd or 4th date to bring your therapist into the conversation)

Overall, he was very angry and "anti" everything.  It completely went against his Leprechaun looks which promised good times and colorful cereals.  I dodged a kiss and sped away in my Big Oil car.

Date #14: Success!  I won Scrabble.  Pretty sad that's my definition of a successful date?  Probably.

Mr. Perfect

January 2nd, 2010

My irrational excitement over Mr. Perfect found validation when he called me two days after Christmas.  Typically, I prefer to avoid phone calls prior to the first date since there is really nothing much to talk about and if you get all of the standard conversation topics out of the way early, there are no safety nets when you meet.  And I sort of need safety nets.  However, I made an exception for Mr. Perfect since he asked, well told me, to give him my number (I sort of love being told what to do).  I should also point out that I am pretty certain the "pre-date phone call" is de rigueur for guys over 32.  While 20 somethings are completely comfortable setting up a date via text or email, the 30+ man likes to lay the groundwork with a call.  Mama taught them manners.   

I almost pass out from excitement after talking to him on the phone.  So funny and cute.  And a date is set!  He's back in town for New Year's (of course I'm not going to try to hone in on that, would be so NOT dating professional) and we decide to meet on the 2nd at a completely new nearby bar (not NEW, just new to me).  Do I live in Bar Central USA?  Yes.  I wait for him outside because, by this point, I've learned that going inside obligates you to purchasing your own drink and that is certainly not something I want to do.  If I go in and order water while I wait, then it's obvious that I'm waiting for him to buy me a drink.  So I wait outside so it's more of a courtesy, like waiting for the other party's food to arrive before diving in.  I'm turning into quite the tricky little female.

FIRST IMPRESSION: He's tall and perfectly proportioned - like a man.  Wearing glasses and dressed in an argyle sweater and slacks (sounds like a science teacher, but looks way better).  He's losing his hair I'm pretty sure, so he shaves his head.  Not usually attracted to this, but his eyes are gorgeous and he has a very handsome face so it's not an issue at all.  He's really, really cute.

We awkwardly hug and head inside.  He buys my drink and I do the customary "grab-for-my-purse" move.  He says he's got it, but adds, "You can get it next time."  Hmm.  I have mixed emotions about this.  I like that he's thinking there will already be a next time, BUT I do not like this whole "me getting it" nonsense.  I thought he was old-fashioned.  Shrug it off.

We make ourselves comfortable on a bench sitting side by side.  We have a lovely conversation during which he does not stray from his forward facing position while I have turned my body so much towards him that I'm pretty sure the only one who can't tell I'm attracted to him is the bum asking for change outside, across the street.  Yeahhhhh, I wear my heart on my sleeve, what can I say?  I'm thrilled to hear about his life story (which was somewhat tragic) and his previous relationships.  I point out that I particularly like how he wrote in his profile, "You should contact me if you won't get upset when I kiss your neck or grab your ass in public at random during our life together."  He gets excited about this (apparently, other girls have been offended by the statement) and explains that what he really wants is a relationship where you are so into the person you can't keep your hands off of each other.  Exactly!  I get it.  Why doesn't he get that I get it?

Two drinks and it's over.  I walked to the bar on purpose so he would offer to drive me home (another tricky girl maneuver) which he did.  He pulls up to my apartment building and puts the car in park to walk me to my door.  Um, SWOONING.  And...........no kiss.  A hug.  A stupid hug.

Date #13: Disheartening.