Posted by: comfortjunkie | August 14, 2008

The Date

Just in case you haven’t been following my magically disappearing and reappearing blog, let’s recap my dating experiences in the 1.5 years since I moved here.

1) My underwater boyfriend: The perfect relationship since we only saw each other while scuba diving. The majority of our interaction was underwater, about 70 feet under water. Lots of kissing, holding hands and the most memorable experience on a date that I’ve had, a night dive where first we turned off our lights at 80 feet and saw the millions of tiny stars that are phosphorescent algae underwater and then returning to surface only to find the boat was someplace else. We bobbed in the water, in the night sea watching the twinkling lights of the city on the shore. Brilliant. Ended up being married with three kids in another city… relationship terminated posthaste.

2) The stalker: First date was okay, a nice dinner but he was shy and kind of weird. Still, compared to what I had dated in P-town before I moved here, he wasn’t that weird…yet. We had sort of a half date the next day where we ran into each other and hung out for a little while and then the next day we went out on his boat. Things were going adequately with the exception that once I saw him in a bathing suit, his physique was a bit off-putting. Still, mistakenly, determining to be a less shallow person, I persevered until he started petting me like a dog and pointing to houses and asking me if I wanted to live with him in them. After leaving the boat, twenty minutes later I got a text “I miss you.” I maturely never returned any further calls.

3) The guy with the weird face: Let’s just leave it at that.

So this is #4. We met at a restaurant after my pilates class. I spent four extra minutes trying to decide if I should wear the white tank top (which I normally wear to class) which I thought would be more conspicuous in a restaurant, or the black one that was covered in cat hair but looked slightly more “formal.” I went with the slimming, black, cat-hair tank. You never get a second chance to make a good first impression.

We were both on time but outside of the dim lights and the influence of many free drinks, he looked older than I remember and had the thinning hair thing going on. I’ve tried that before and it didn’t work out. My ex shaved his head but when approaching from behind you could tell that he had a big bald spot and I obsessed about it every day. That’s not why we broke up (he was a psychotic potential murder-suicide, workplace killer) but it didn’t help, that’s for sure. Still, we shall overcome.

He called me out on the phone thing right away which forced me into a decision…go for crazy right off the bat or make up some excuse as to why my phone ‘wasn’t working.’ I went with crazy, because really, it’s fairly obvious to anyone who hasn’t lived in a cave their whole life. No, I don’t answer my phone. No, never. Why? because I can’t handle the commitment of a conversation in real time. It’s too much pressure. I feel trapped and anxious. Yes I suck. I’m a terrible person. What can I do?

(for those of you who just joined the program, I do have a real-life true anxiety disorder, so it’s not like I just woke up one day and decided I hated the telephone BUT I did wake up today and realized that suddenly, after 35 years, I can finally roll my r’s, badly but still)

Having eaten exactly three slices of thin crust pizza today, I agreed to split a dessert and have some coffee. I told you he’s in sales right? Right? Timeshare? The first half of the date was like a timeshare presentation which amused the hell out of me, right down to the drawing figures and circling words on the placemat. I was having a not-awful time but close to the end, things turned to history and politics, two things I know nothing about but love, love, love to debate. So i got all animated and chattery as we discussed various points in history and the current political state of the US. After that we got to talk about my other favorite topics which is Canadians and how weird they are (my opinion) and how he’s more comfortable and likes Canadians more than Americans. Then we got onto Americans and their idiosyncrasies, which I also enjoy talking about. My people. I never had people before I moved here, now I’ve got people, a whole country of them.

So over all, it was entertaining and we might go see a movie next week…but it won’t work long term (for myriad reasons) which brings me to the reason I really didn’t want to go on a date in the first place. For any date, you only have a 33% chance of it working out favorably. There’s a 33% chance that you will like the other person and they will like you back. There’s a 33% chance that one of you will like the other and it’s not reciprocated and there’s a 33% chance that you will hate each other. Guess where the majority of dates fall? I suppose technically, it’s only a 1-4 chance that you will both end up liking each other which gives you a 75% chance of having to tell the other person you don’t want to see them again (presuming they don’t beat you the punch) and 25% chance that it’s not mutual. I hate that part. I hate telling someone that I don’t want to see them again. It’s so much easier to leave a note on their car or send a nice text message, maybe just not ever reply to them again.

Still, I went and I had a nice time AND as a testament to my personal growth, I can say that I never, ever, ever would have gone on a date in gym clothes after a workout in my previous life, but I did. I’m not sure exactly what that says about me, but it says something. Something about being single for a long, long time, I’m sure.

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