Five Minutes to Impress Me…and GO!

     I dusted off my date shoes, grabbed a pen, and headed wingwoman-less to my second attempt at speed dating last Thursday.  I checked in, ordered a beer, set my phone to silent, and then scoped out the room.  My first pick-up before the shindig even started…a new potential wingwoman.  She’s mid-30s, an attorney, and told me a few times that she was going to think of all the singles guys she knew because I was really cool and deserved someone.  Love this chick already.

     At the stroke of eight, we found our seats and the men soon followed.  There were more men than women this time around, so they had “break” stations in between a few of the dates.  One of those empty spaces was right before me.  Not exactly a comfortable situation, but I’ll get to that later.

Date #1: Architect. Cute. Studied, worked, and lived in Italy for a couple of years.  He was a little, how shall I say,…fragile, and I’m not sure how he’ll flow with my, how shall I say,…edge, but he’s worth looking into.

Date #2: Tall, dark, and mildly attractive. Had a name I could not pronounce just by reading the name tag. He then clarified that his mother changed the spelling because they were Jewish. She didn’t want her son walking around with the word “ham” in his name because it wasn’t kosher.

Date #’s 3-8: The order of these men have all kind of jumbled together in my head.  Ten dates in one night was a bit much.  However, some of their characters did leave an impression.

     One was, of course, the boring guy.  One was the adorable pocket-sized foreigner.  One was a nice guy, but was obviously not over his ex if he is bringing her up in a five-minute date.  I mean, really, dude.

     The other three characters were a bit more memorable.

The creepy foreigner: Utilized his “break” station to stare at me. His voice was light and airy and…uh…thought he was at the wrong style of speed dating, if you catch my drift.  He made sure to point out that his name’s German, but he’s not.  Buddy, I think your Asianess gave that away. He then wanted me to guess the movies he had in his collection.

The odd bird:  Yet another Asian.  We talked about traveling.  Said how I wanted to go to New Zealand some day.  He proceeded to tell me about a taxi ride he took when he was there, and how he thought the driver was farting.  Then at the end of the five minutes, he pulled out a pen to write my name down.  I looked up when I heard a strange noise.  His pen had a camera top that “flashed” when he pressed down to write.  Nothing like bringing the paparazzi to a date, how very LA of you.  

Mr. Missed Opportunity: Older, but really great.  When it was time to check “yes” or “no,”  I was on the fence about him.  It came down to…could I see myself kissing him? -Nope.

     Only two more dates left, and I was out of beer and had to pee like nobody’s business.  Fortunately, the hostess said we could take a short break.  As I was getting up, my next date was sitting down, and said, “It’s okay, I only need three minutes to impress you.”  And then he whipped out his cell phone and got lost in technology.

     When I returned from the bathroom and sat down, his first question was, “Are you Jewish?”  He claimed that he drew his conclusion from my eyes and my attitude (mind you, I hadn’t said anything yet.)  He then proceeded to try and spar with me.  Even after the whistle was blown, he was still shouting at me from his next seat in front of his next date.  I choose a one-word note to write on my paper so I would not forget who he was: PRICK.

Date #10: Big guy.  Seemed a little intimidated by other date still shouting at me, but not annoyed.  Realized later that Date #9 was his friend.  Didn’t hold that against him.  We chatted and laughed. At the end, I was commenting on making a note, so I wouldn’t forget.  He stood up and said, “I was just gonna say yes.”  -Aw, how cute.

     Ten dates down and I was beat.  My new potential wingwoman and I made our escape.  Making sure we were out of ear shot, she commented on how she thought Date #9, the Prick, liked me.  Really, are we back in elementary school?  Is he going to pull my hair at recess?  Strangely enough, I was having the same hunch.

The Results: Logged on to the site and clicked me three “yes’s” and seven “no’s.”  Was then led to see if any of my “yes’s” matched.  I had two, Date #1 and Date #10. Then I noticed that five of my “no’s” had said yes to me.  Dude, I’m batting 700!  Quite an ego boost this go-around.

Oh…and the Prick, he was one of those yes’s.  Go figure.

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Pet Name Peeve

     As I have said, I have been going through a bit of a drought in the dating scene.  The one date I did have over the past few months left much to be desired, like even the actual memory of the date.  This man was so boring.  After I got home from the date, I sat and watched a little TV.  Then, I got ready for bed.  While I was brushing my teeth, I thought to myself, “What did I do this evening?”  I had clean forgotten that I was even on a date earlier that night.

     I should have known the date would not end well. This guy managed to tick me off before I ever met him. Once we got to the texting stage to arrange the date, I noticed him drop a pet name to the end of one of the texts. Then, it was on the end of just about every text. Here is a sample of a few conversations:

Pet Namer: When can we meet, mi amore?
Zia: blah blah
Pet Namer: Anywhere, mi amore. What do you like to drink?
Zia: blah blah
Pet Namer: Good night, mi amore.
Zia’s Thoughts: What’s with all this “mi amore” stuff? You hardly know me, Dude.

The next day…

Pet Namer: Good morning.
Zia: blah blah. How are you?
Pet Namer: Good. I’m thinking about our date, mi amore.
Zia: blah blah
Pet Namer: Your choice, mi amore.
Zia’s Thoughts: This guy can’t make a decision to save his life. And more, “mi amore” crap. He must tack this on to everything. Really makes a woman feel unimportant.
Zia: blah blah
Pet Namer: Ok, mi amore.

About to vomit and cringing at the idea of a date with him, he texts again a few hours later…

Pet Namer: What are you doing, mi amore?
Zia’s Thoughts: Preparing to yak.
Zia’s response: blah blah
Pet Namer: What are your plans this evening, mi amore?
Zia’s Thoughts: To change my number, mi amoron.

     This duface behind me, I’m gearing up for my second go-around at speed dating. If you remember, not enough men showed up last time, so I got a freebie. I’ll be cashing in on that tomorrow night.  If you don’t remember, here’s a refresher. I’m anxious to see if anyone will be topping Mr. Vaginal Birth.

Curbside Attraction

     I have hit a dry spell in my dating life, and the lack of male prospects, at times, makes me a bit delirious.  It’s probably nothing to be alarmed about, but you tell me.  This is what happened at the beginning of the year during my last drought.

     One Saturday night I was heading out to meet my wingwomen for a movie and then drinks.  I pulled up to a traffic light and saw one of the homeless guys, I sometimes pass, on the corner.  I always do my best to avoid eye contact since the change in my pocket barely covers my gas to work, and a movie and drinks is splurging.  Although I avoid eye contact I do read the signs they hold.  His is my favorite, “If nothing else, give me a smile.”  That day his sign was propped on a trash bag and he was talking to some woman who was also by the corner.  Given that there was a low risk of eye contact, I stole a glimpse of the homeless guy.  He was kind of young, probably around my age, little scruffy but not all that dirty for a homeless guy.

     After the movie and a couple of drinks, I started to tell my crew about my epiphany on my car ride over.  Later I found that my friend Subtle-T was texting all this to my BFF Suzie Q.

Subtle-T: Zia has a new boy prospect.  He has a reliable location and can’t run away.  He’s a one-legged pan handler who’s very cute.

Suzie Q: Lol. What does that mean?

Subtle-T: It’s code for the homeless guy who stands at the corner.

Suzie Q: Very cute, huh? Well, there would be hope for the kids look wise.

Subtle-T: His sign even says “at least give me a smile.”

Suzie Q: Did she at least give him a smile?

Subtle-T: He wasn’t looking.  Zia has named him Jack.

Suzie Q: Sounds like she has a crush…

Subtle-T: She does, even making up stories of how he lost the leg.

Suzie Q: Oh my.

     I had decided that he lost his leg in battle.  And after returning from the war, found himself homeless.  But, after a few weeks had gone by, there was no Jack sighting.  I was beginning to think that even a one-legged homeless man had given up on me.  But then…reason to text…

Zia: There was a Jack sighting! He hasn’t left me. I’d recognize that metal leg anywhere. Unfortunately, I think we have to break up. He’s a smoker.

Subtle-T: Are you disappointed?

Zia:  Yes.  He really should take better care of himself. He had a friend with him today.

Subtle: Competition or choices for you?

Zia: Nah, this guy looked too scruffy.  And he had both legs, not my type.

Stalk Much?

     I really enjoy the “see who’s viewed you” section on Match.com.  I get to see the guys whom I’ve emailed and haven’t heard back from,  so I know they’re not interested.  I get to see which old guys wish they had a chance, and that Mr. Fig Newton is stalking me.  Oh, that’s right, just when you thought he had disappeared.  For Mr. Fig Newton back story, click here.

     For those of you unfamiliar with Match.com’s set-up, you receive “daily matches” that are computer calculated hand selected just for you.  Within each of those selections, there is one member who is “Singled Out” for you per day.  No lie, the day after my last Mr. Fig Newton post he was “singled out” for me.  Come on Match, let’s tweak that system.

     Anyway, you have an interest option of clicking “yes,” “no,” or “maybe.”  No doubt, I clicked “no” to Mr. Fig Newton.  However, about a week after that post I got an email telling me someone was interested, which is what happens when someone clicks “yes.”  I wasn’t exactly smiling at this news when I saw Mr. Fig Newton’s screename attached to the email.  And not only did he click “yes,” but he also sent an email to follow that act.

     This is what he wrote:

Hey sweetie. Match seems to keep putting you up as my daily match. And I see that you’re still actively involved on this site. So, I’m guessing you’ve still got your options open. I’m just saying, if Match thinks we’re a match, maybe we owe it to ourselves to find out if that’s true.

     This explains why I kept seeing him in my who’s viewed me section.  You can see the person’s activity date and how frequently they’re online.  He was obviously checking in to see how often I logged in.  I did not respond to this moronocity, which did not stop him from stalking my profile yet again a few days later.  Dude, it’s not gonna happen.  I’ve already done the research…we – aren’t – a – match.

And Now for the “Ugly”

I left you with the question at the end of my last post, “Things are sounding good…right?’  Well…

…Wrong!

     After proposing and telling me he missed me, I didn’t hear from him all week.  That doesn’t really add up to me.  But, then again, this is, unfortunately, dating in LA.  And let me just say – it sucks.  Anyway, as the guys do – they flake.  I figured he must have fallen into that same fate, although I didn’t see that coming from him.

     By Saturday night, and a week of complete silence, I sent him this inquisitive and possible sayonara text:

Zia text:  Hey Gameless Joe Jackson, haven’t heard from you in about a week so I’m guessing you’ve moved on?  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bummed.  I hope everything is going well with you, and good luck with your finals.  If I remember correctly, they’re coming up.

     Over an hour later I got this response:

Gameless Joe Jackson text:  Moved on?  Not in the slightest…I have just been studying a whole bunch.  How have you been in the past week?

     Dude, that’s it!  You couldn’t have taken five seconds to send a text that says, “Hey, sorry, I’m a bit busy, but just wanted to say hi?”  You could have even stated, “I can’t talk right now,” and then maybe tossed in, “but hope your week is going well.”  Something – anything – but silence and you expect a girl to still think you’re interested!?  And you’re curious as to why you’re single?

     I know, you’re probably saying, “Well, you could have texted him.”  And I could have, but the previous night’s text indicated that he would contact me.  And I was expecting it around mid-week.  He had been reliable and so on top of things thus far, why would I think differently?

     However annoyed, I kept my composure and texted back that I figured he was studying but thought that I might have heard from him mid-week.  This got no response.  I followed up with asking if his finals were next week.  That, he replied to.  Hmm…talk about neutral “you” subjects, and you’ll answer…interesting.  He said they were the week after, but had projects the following week. 

     This all added up in my head to:  Well, you just ignored me for a week because you claimed to be busy studying.  Now you’re telling me that you have a week of projects = one week, no contact.  Then a week of finals = another week, no contact.  Why did you bother texting back that you’re still interested if you’re trying to brush me off?  I gave you an out.

     Then I took into consideration his lack of game, and the fact that he is taking finals for the first time ten years later in life than when most people do.  I had already gathered from previous chats that he is kind of an all or nothing type of guy.  I also didn’t think he was that suave with time management skills when it came to studying. 

     I jokingly texted back asking if he’d be underground for two weeks.  (Hey, I wanted to know flat-out if he was planning on ignoring me for two weeks but yet was still crazy enough to expect me to be hanging around.)  Alas, that too got no response.

     His personality did seem a little different, a bit off, in his texts, so the next day I just asked how his studying was going.  He did admit to being a little lost, and said he could use some help.  Nice to know I was right about that.  I gave him a few tips and left him alone.

     Mid-week I shot him a quick text just to see how his studying was going.  I was getting the impression he was suffocating himself with books.  Got the brush off that he was busy.

     Meanwhile, I didn’t stop myself from dating.  Had my speed dating adventure, and then a longer-than-five-minutes follow-up date with Mr. 911.  After which I realized that dating Gameless Joe Jackson kind of ruined me.  Dates with him were fun and effortless.  Had the urge to texted him. “you suck,” but I held back.

     When the following week came to a close, and I knew his finals were over, I shot him one more quick text to see how they went.  I wasn’t expecting to start dating him again, but with his bipolar disorder, I was genuinely concerned.  Like I said, his texts didn’t really sound like him.  He replied back and we chatted for a little bit.  He was almost himself but not really.

     I have no idea what went on with him or what happened to him from the beginning of one week to the end of that week.  I am pretty confident it wasn’t some else because our texting times, date times, etc. were always at peak “family/couple time” hours that a significant other would have noticed.  It was like a personality light switch. 

     I talked to Cousin Jo-Jo about it.  She mentioned that she didn’t know much about treating bipolar disorder with medical marijuana, but what she did know was that in a manic state it calms you, but in a depression state it does nothing.  Meaning if he was in a state of depression, he was going untreated.  She ended up suggesting what I was thinking; give him a couple of weeks and then just send a text to see how he is “actually doing.”  She pointed out that if that was it, he may feel to embarrassed to contact me again, knowing he screwed up.

     So I let the time go by and then wrote out the text (which probably should have been an email, but it’s not like I thought he’d give me his email address.)  I said that I wanted to make sure he was actually ok, pointed out the light-switch personality (in so many words), and let him know that I always just accepted him for him.  Basically, I was letting this be my closure.

    Surprisingly enough, I got a response back:

Gameless Joe Jackson text: That was the most intense bombardment of texts I have ever received.  Thanks for your concern.  I would appreciate it if you stopped contacting me.  Best of luck.

     Wow.  So cold.  So distant.  So not the guy I met months before.  I could sit and over analyze, “What if I said this?” or “What if I said that?”  But honestly, do you really want to be dating a guy who is going to run away because one sentence wasn’t worded to his liking?  I sure don’t.  I never got an “it’s not you, it’s me” speech, and I didn’t need one.  Buddy, I know it was you.  And even though I was hurt and bummed for a while, I dusted myself off and got back up again.

     What I have come to find is that I am done dating pot-smoking head-cases.  Mr. ADD didn’t want me (disregard the fact I didn’t want him either) because I didn’t have my own mental disorder.  Damn, my mental stability.  And Gameless Joe Jackson, bipolar, didn’t want me because I cared.  Man, I’m such a horrible person; I was concerned. 

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