Dead or Alive

It has been exactly a month since I was stood up by The Wrestler. The running joke with several of my friends is that it is unthinkable that he stood me up because he didn’t like me, so of course the reason must be that he is dead. Well, I got the “Closed” e-harmony message today. When I opened up the message a little bit of the scab that covered my ego was pealed away. His picture was at the top of his message and the reason he gave for closing the match was that he “is taking a break from dating.” Ok, fair enough, but he took a break from dating me almost a month ago, a more timely and perhaps personal delivery of this message would have been much appreciated!

If Wishes Were Fishes

I am the type of person who likes to make bets with herself and lately those bets have been revolving around City Park. It has been a long time since I have been out with someone like City Park. He is fun, he has a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and he gets my sense of humor. He also has this huge, great smile that he doesn’t show too often. For a while I have been dating people who either I am mentally attracted to that I am sexually attracted to, but not both. City Park, well I found both the mental and the physical attraction in him.

So, since our second date I have been a little obsessed with whether or not he is going to call again. I consistently check my blackberry, double check my voice mail messages and look for omens where they definitely don’t exist. Unfortunately he hasn’t responded to the email I sent him earlier today and he didn’t call tonight. I am hoping that he was just busy and will call in a day or so, but as they say: “If wishes were fishes…”

Safeway's Pretense

Here I am, days away from being 33 and I have to admit that I am no closer to understanding the dating game. A few weeks ago I went out with Safeway. I knew right away that while I might enjoy talking to him for an hour or so, this wasn’t going to be a match, especially when he told me that what impressed him about my profile was that I “wrote good” and that his ex-wife “didn’t speak English good.” However all throughout the date he made several mentions of a second date. He mentioned that he made killer mojitos and that he would have to make some for me one day. He mentioned that next time we might try a Cuban restaurant and other such comments. I didn’t want to say right then and there that I wasn’t interested in a second date, but I also didn’t want to lead him on. So, I nodded my head and smiled. Only a few hours after our date ended I got an email saying that Safeway had sent me a new message. I opened the message and there it was, “Safeway has decided to close this match because he wants to pursue other matches on eharmony.” This is what I don’t understand, why continually make references to another date when you have no intention of following though. He spent so much time and energy in trying to make me think that he was interested in seeing me again that if I had liked him I would have really been hurt. So my newest dating question is, why bother with pretenses??

A Second Date with Bollywood

I just got back from my second date with Bollywood. We met for a movie, “The Hangover.” I must say that this is not a good second date movie, it was full of stupid humor and it was a little more graphic that I would have expected for a second date. It also left little for us to talk about after dinner. However, the rest of the date went well. Because Bollywood grew up in India, coming to the states to go to college, there are definitely some things that get lost in translation. It is not a language barrier, but I don’t think that he always gets my sarcasm and I also wonder if there are some cultural differences that play into this. I have a hard time reading him and have a hard time knowing if he is interested in me. While we were at dinner we talked but, he is a little shy and one of the things I find endearing is that he has these sleepy eyes and he is a slow blinker.

Bollywood walked me back to my car, which I took to be a good sign, but I also realized that it also could be one of those cultural niceties. However, at the car he gave me a really nice, sweet kiss. It was one of those kisses where he lightly touched my cheek. However, right afterward he backed away and said good-by. I told him that once I get back from San Francisco I would love to get together. Bollywood is very nice and very sweet; he is someone I would love to see again.

Two Timing?

Last Saturday I made a date with a second e-harmony match- Bollywood. In my memory, I cannot remember ever seeing two guys at the same time, or even being interested in two guys at the same time although Spicy Jalapeño told me that I always have a backup waiting in the wings. Regardless, I was feeling a little weird about the coffee date because at this time The Wrestler was still in the picture.

I met Bollywood in Boulder for a cup of coffee and I actually really liked him. He is an Engineer but has a love of the outdoors and theater. In fact he grew up in India, watching the Bollywood films with his family, so that is where his appreciation for theater comes from. The only downside to the date, and I don’t know if I necessarily would consider it a negative is the communication barrier. I think that some of the nuisances of the language were not translatable- especially some of my sarcasm. All in all, I thought that the date went well; we had coffee and then walked along Pearl Street Mall. However, at the end of the date when I told him I would be interested in seeing him again I didn’t get a definitive answer back from him so I walked away a little unsure. So imagine my surprise when he emailed me on Sunday night to see how babysitting the nieces went and to ask if we played Legos. I was encouraged by the fact that he remembered that I had told him that Legos were my toy of choice growing up, but disappointed that he didn’t suggest that we go out again. I have come to realize that I don’t do well with uncertainty and that I am an action oriented person. I need to be able to find a place where I am ok with this unknown and just ride the ride until the destination becomes clearer.

The End of the Match

I have been out with The Wrestler about five times and I will admit that he was growing on me. At the same time, I was having some reservations. As I told my lady the other day, I was worried that this relationship would not be sustainable. I was afraid that at the end of the day our values will be too different. Regardless, we were having a great time when we are together- laughing, talking and cooking and so I was thinking that while this might not last, at least I am having a good time!

After I got home from Boston a week ago on Friday I went over to The Wrestler’s house for dinner and I thought we had a good time but over the week I didn’t hear from him. Even though I said before that I didn’t know if this relationship was sustainable, it made me sad that I hadn’t called or sent me any text messages. Normally I wouldn’t be concerned if I didn’t hear from a guy for two or three days but for the first few weeks The Wrestler would send me two or three text message a day to make plans or just to say hi and to tell me I was beautiful. Since The Wrestler had been so attentive at the beginning I was getting worried that he was loosing interest.

I finally decided to stop the crazy talk in my head and send The Wrestler a text message ask him to go to City Park Jazz with me. I was excited because he responded immediately and said that if he got back from Grand Junction in time he would like to go.

So last night, at 5:00 pm I found myself sitting on my couch still waiting to hear from him. Here I was, already for a picnic, hell I even made homemade hummus and brownies and I was stood up—not even a phone call!!

I am actually really pissed off about being stood up and have been in a foul mood all day. I am having trouble chalking it up to another one of my crazy dating experiences…

The Wrestler

I have been out with The Wrestler three times which is not a lot, but considering it was within a week time it also seems significant. I met the Wrestler on a dating sight. I don’t know exactly what it was that attracted me to him because he is not what I would consider “my type.”

The Wrestler is the complete opposite from my last boyfriend: outgoing, active, funny, all in all he is a character. The Wrestler can and will talk to anyone, from the waters and waitresses to the random people sitting next to us at a concert. He compliments me all the time, he likes to be physical by holding hands with me and the such. One good characteristic that the Wrestler shares with my last boyfriend is flexibility. He is easy going about plans and doesn’t stress when we play things by ear.

The first time we met he took me out to this delicious Japanese restaurant. The best sign was that at the end of the night he paid for meal. We sat for over four hours drinking wine, eating and talking. The second time we went out for margaritas. Finally, on July 4th he took me to Red Rocks. He made an amazing picnic. All three dates have been a lot of fun and I really enjoy being around him even though we are very different. It has been so refreshing to be out with someone who actually “dates.” I have been out on too many dates where the guys are not on their best behavior, don’t treat, or are just looking to get laid. I really felt like I was being taken out on a date!

He seems to have many of the characteristics I say I am looking for: a good job which is legal, a sense of humor, open, outgoing, etc. So what is my hesitation? Why am I still holding some of myself back and not fully embracing this potential relationship. I guess this is part of dating, trying different relationships on and figuring out if what you think you like really fits.

The Guy I Don't Want to Date

I was at the carwash and there was a guy wearing gray fatigue patterned shorts, a bright read shirt, keens and sunglasses perched on his head. While the rest of us were hanging out waiting patiently for our cars to be finished he was standing over his car directing them in a loud voice to get the inside grooves of the car. He spoke loudly and repeated himself over and over the way some people do when they assume someone cannot speak English and if they do they are too dumb to understand the meaning behind the words. “Inside, inside the grooves…” he kept repeating. Then he stepped back, but not ot where the rest of us sat, but just a few steps back with his arms folded as if he was the supreme supervisor over the clean of his car. When the car was close to ready, he didn’t wait for them to call him over; he jumped into his car and started to drive away. There was a petite little woman still trying to finish drying off his car and I am surprised he didn’t run her over.

I might not know exactly what I am looking for, but I definitely know what I am NOT looking for—I hope that is half the battle!

DC

Tonight I have to thank my best friend, Spicy Jalapeno (SJ), as there are very few people who would put up with my antics, or more accurately the antics that seem to find us when we are out and about in Denver. SJ deserves a second thanks because tonight I turned her into a crazy social alcoholic! Yes, it was another happy hour for the two of us that turned into a late night which finds me home and typing at 10:00 pm with another day of work waiting to be tackled tomorrow.

I arrived at the pub early with the intent of checking out the guys to see if there might be anyone of interest drinking a beer at the bar. There was one guy sitting behind me who kept asking me to watch his laptop while he went to the bathroom. Unfortunately, his full beard was far from a turn-on and I thought nothing of him.

SJ and I were well into an evening of sharing work war stories when a waitress who had served us a week or so before stopped by our table to say hello. She said she remembered me because she had overheard a story I was telling about my date with the pizza thief. A few minutes later she introduced us to “DC.” We said a polite hello, but went back to our “girl time.” Then, a guy sits down with “DC,” and I recognize him as non other than Limon. We said a hello, he gave me a hug and that was that. SJ and I went about our laughing and criticism of the 12 year old surfer wanabes that were hanging out outside smoking. Limon and DC go outside for a smoke and then their table is taken, so they ask to join us. DC is flirting with me, telling me that asking me to watch his computer was his way of flirting. I was uninterested in pursuing a hook-up with DC- did I mention that he had a full beard, a trucker DC hat and a watch with so much bling it was embarrassing? I was only half engaging in the conversation and SJ was getting tired and knew that the evening was going nowhere fast. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, SJ suddenly tells DC, “look, I think you are a nice guy, but there is no love connection here. I have known her for 27 years and she is not the girl for you.” The look on his face could not be read as anything but hurt feelings. So, in an attempt to ease the hurt we indicated that SJ is a social alcoholic who didn’t know what she was saying and that it was time for me to drive her home -- a blatant lie and the selfless act of a true friend. On our way out SJ moved towards the door and I went to say good-bye to DC. He asked me to come by the pizzeria without my alcoholic friend and then he puts his hand on the back of my head and tries to pull me in for a kiss. I pulled away and said, “there is no way that is going to happen.”

Again, big thanks to Spicy Jalapeño, who for one night was my crazy social alcoholic friend!!!

Match

Everyone says that dating is nothing more than a numbers game, just like those pesky slot machines in Vegas. Yes, the more you play the more likely you are to win but just like those Vegas machines, more often then not you walk away a looser. Well, in order to get out those and play number names I decided to hit the internet. Unfortunately, due to a pending pay cut and the fact that I hadn’t paid off my most recent overseas trip, I was forced to try my hand at one of the more inexpensive dating sights, which might have been my first mistake. After weeks of getting no emails and finding that my profile was being looked at 30-40 year old military men, dressed in camouflage and showing themselves off in Afghanistan or Iraq with their machines guns I finally received a “wink” from what seemed like a viable candidate. So when 27 year old Match emailed me with a normal looking picture and an even more normal looking profile I was hopeful that maybe this internet thing would pay off.

We met at a nice restaurant in Cherry Creek and had a glass of wine. He was nice enough, sure there were some problematic signs, he didn’t ask me too many questions about myself and when I did tell him the name of the non-profit where I worked he got a smirk on his face and told me that he use to be quite conservative. So, we bantered back and forth about politics and then he made some random statements about how Jewish men were emasculated and Jewish women wore the pants in the family. I could have told you right then and there that this date was going nowhere fast.

We had more wine, definitely one glass too many. When he reached into his pocket and suavely pulled out chap stick and applied it to his lips with a smirk in his eye I should have found a reason to end the night, but the wine was clouding my judgment. As the night went on he started ogling my breasts, moving closer and touching my leg. The night came to a screeching halt, when in the middle of the bar he leans over with a lecherous look and says, “I want to bite your breast” and ends his sentence with a half sneer and bit in my direction. What can I say, except to reiterate that the evening came to a screeching halt and I dragged my wasted self out of the bar and home to bed.

Limon Take Two

I was just getting ready to settle in for another Saturday night when my friends called me. They were getting drinks at the same restaurant that I ate at the night before and convinced me to get out of my pajamas and meet them for one drink. When I got to the restaurant and joined my friends at the bar I noticed that the cute waiter, Limon, from the other night was working. Like many nights, one drink turned into two and soon it was 10:00 pm. Limon finished up work and came and sat down next to me at the bar. We started talking and I found out that he had been living in Spain for the last three months and that he had recently been to Costa Rica- a place that is high on my list of places to see. We chatted for a while and then I got up to leave with my friends. Limon asked for my number. I hope he calls…

Limon

Tonight I met of mine tonight at a local restaurant to reminisce about recent travels and to enjoy some Peruvian food. It was our waiter’s first night on the job. While I cannot say that he was a good waiter, but both of us thought that he was pretty damn cute. So, what to do in these situations? Once or twice in the past I have left my number on the bill, but on this occasion I left without leaving my phone number. I know, not the most exciting night for a single gal looking for love.

Dick

On a recent date, Dick and I started talking about those mundane subjects that usually come up on first dates like family and hobbies. Early on in the conversation, Dick asked me the predictable question about pets. I told him a little bit about my cat and then returned the question. He answered that yes, he had a dog named Cheney. The first thought that ran through my mind, “Shit, are you fucking kidding me???” Giving him the benefit of the doubt, hoping that he chose that name because Cheney is a family name, or that when he kicks the dog it is because he is trying to make a political statement. Of course, there was no such luck. Instead my dates response was “I LOVE Cheney. He is the ultimate man, my hero.” The second thought that ran through my mind was “oh please, someone shoot me, put me out of my misery.”
As the date goes on the fact that our morals, values and ultimate outlook on life could not be any further apart could not become any more apparent. We part and I promptly went home and texted my friend: “Just went out with a criminal who named his dog Cheney. Think I should give him another chance?”

The Thug

He stood casually hanging out against the wall, chatting with people as they passed. Slightly better dressed than most of the men in this crowed bar, on average much taller, and sporting a shaved head that fitted his angular features. Ok, so I was attracted at first glance. He definitely had that "thug" look that I like. He glanced over my way and I shot him a smile and returned my attention to “the guy I had been talking to, and ironically had been out on a date with several years before. The fact that I was at this stupid party, or should I say Jewish meat market, was mostly due to peer pressure. Additionaly, my willingness to talk to almost anyone came from the challenge my best friends had made earlier that night: talk to at least 10 guys I didn’t know during the party. Thankfully I had enough sense not to follow their other suggestion that I start my conversations with: “I like your pants.”

I was feeling a bit sassy and was not going to make the first move- hell, let him make the first move for a change. As soon as hockey guy got up, the thug approached and sat down and introduced himself with one of the heaviest Brooklyn accents I had ever heard. As we chatted I tried not to laugh because his accent, bald head, and his angular features only further lead into my first impression of him as a "thug." I casually asked him what he did for a living and The Thug responded that he had his own business, supplying cheese and sauce to pizza restaurants. Ok. A little unconventional, but I like pizza. He took my number and we parted ways. A few days later The Thug called and we made plans to meet up for coffee. He was either neurotic or nervous because he kept repeating the time and place of the date over and over again until my cell phone cut him off.

I was sitting at the coffee bar when The Thug arrived. After getting his coffee and the usual opening pleasantries, I asked him to tell me more about his business. He looked me in the eye and said in that heavy accent, “Look, I am going to be honest with you.” I already had a feeling that this was not going to be my soul mate, but conversations that start with that statement usually implies an impending doom. “I am into hot sales,” he continues. “Hot sales,” I asked confused. ! Sensing my confusion, he opens his jacket, glances down in a sly manner and says, “It almost like those guys on the street who say hey, you wanna buy a watch.” The Thug goes on to tell me that he has friends that work at a local pizza joint who smuggles pizzas out the back door. He the travels around the state and approaches different businesses with the line that the pizza place screwed up a large order and that he needs to get rid of them. He tells them he will sell them the pizzas, or a few slices for ½ price.

That is the long version; the short version is I really am on a date with a thug who sells stolen pizzas for a living. To make matters worse, yes worse, he has been doing this for 10 years!!! 10 years, not as a part-time side job to make extra money, but 10 years as a full-time job At this point I am perched on my stool with thousands of exit strategies running though my mind, unable to settle on any one fast enough.