Monday, May 24, 2010
We've already encountered the guy with Attention Deficit (which frankly I'm beginning to think ALL men are afflicted with) but this one takes the cake.
We've gone past the email stage. We've gone past the phone stage. It's all been fairly brief but pleasant. No feelings of "run away, run away" crossing my mind yet. He's a special ed teacher, which amazes me. Even though I teach pre-school (which scares most people), I just don't have the patience for a whole class of special needs children. Teachers who can handle that job get the utmost respect in my book as I believe they should all be sainted someday.
When we finally get together, of course the first thing that comes up is our shared profession. He tells me about his day and how this kid tried to jump out the window and that kid made a break for it on the playground. How this one just rocks in the corner all day long and that one gets physically violent and needs to be restrained. Really incredible stuff I've never had to deal with.
He goes on to tell me he got called in to sub in a "regular ed" classroom and he was bored off his ass all day. He was just waiting for them to bust loose at any moment. Waiting for the shit to hit the fan (some days, literally.) Waiting for something, anything to happen. But nothing did. All of the children sat quietly on the rug or in their seats, listening to the teacher, following directions, etc. He couldn't believe how long that day dragged on.
Maybe he just likes all the excitement because he also has ADD so he understands how they feel.
Ok, will not judge him based on this statement. He's cute (really cute), strong, tall, sweet, funny, and really nice. Must. Not. Judge.
I start to share some of my classroom experiences. I've taught everywhere from babies to Kindergarteners, most recently a class of 3-5 year olds. They're my favorite age group and ... wait... why are his eyes glazing over? Hello? Are you listening to me?
"What, I'm sorry, could you repeat that last part of the story? I must've missed it."
How could you have missed what I was just saying? It was 30 seconds long.
"I'm so sorry. I told you about the ADD but I also have selective hearing. So sometimes, I just kinda tune out and I'll miss entire conversations. It's not that I don't find what you're saying really fascinating..."
And then he just trails off. I realize he's not even listening to himself.
Which is probably why he didn't hear me tell him I was leaving.
After several rounds of emails, I feel safe enough to give him my number and he calls on a Monday. We chat for a while about what we both did over the weekend and I tell him that I went to church with my family. He says "Oh, yes, I noticed on your profile that you're Christian, it's one of the reasons I contacted you. Do you read the Bible?"
Confession: I grew up going to church every Sunday. I made my communion, my confirmation, I was an acolyte, a crucifer, a Sunday school teacher, the whole 9 yards. I've read at several services at my church through the years. I can quote a few passages here and there and I know many of the stories and parables. But I have never actually sat down and read the entire Bible cover to cover. So I don't feel comfortable answering this question with a 100% Yes.
I tell him all of this.
He says, "I love to read the Bible. I'm really into Biblical prophecy."
Do you know what Biblical prophecy is? I don't.
"Biblical prophecy is really interesting. Revelations. End of days stuff."
Ok, now I'm scared.
"Did you know that the world is going to end in 7 years? We've got 3 1/2 years left until the anti-Christ comes. Then 3 1/2 years after that is the second coming of Jesus."
Do I even wanna know what happens when Jesus shows up again?
"Well, that's the end of it. There'll be an all-out battle between Christ and the Devil and we'll all have to choose sides. You can fight with the Lord at your side, or you can join Satan's army, but either way, we're all gone after that."
This is kinda heavy for Monday morning chit chat...
"The good news is, the anti-Christ only makes an appearance after peace is restored in the Middle East. So once that treaty is signed, the clock starts ticking. The President is really pushing for a ceasefire in Jerusalem, which is how you know he's a prophet."
Obama went from being the 1st black president to a prophet for the second coming of Christ??? Wow. Now I'm impressed. Kinda blows his Nobel prize out of the water!
"So the way I figure it, if we've only got 7 years left, you should probably start dating me now."
Um, yeah, I think I'll pass. On my list of things to do before the world ends, I might put buying a new car, vacationing in Hawaii, and eating fudge 3 times a day. But dating you? Not on there. Sorry...
His profile is the very definition of romance. All the things he likes should be in a guidebook of how to get women to notice you. Picnics in the park. Wine & roses. Chocolate. Chick flicks. Making dinner together while listening to the Rat Pack. Massages. Slow dancing in a room full of candles.
Like you wouldn't email this guy???
So we go back & forth for a while and the messages are all good. He's really sweet. Asks thoughtful questions. We share a lot of the same interests and hobbies (before you ask, NO he is not gay.) Things are going really well when I get the following message:
"I think you're really amazing and I'm so enjoying our conversations. It's such a shame we could never work out cause I think you're kinda perfect."
I'm sorry, if I'm so perfect, why can't we work out?!?!
"I love everything you've said so far, it's just that I don't think we're geographically compatible."
What the hell does that mean? You live in Brooklyn, not on the moon!
"I'm looking for someone who lives 15 minutes walking distance from my apartment and no farther. I don't want to have to take public transportation anywhere."
A) I'm in Manhattan all the time...we could meet in the city
B) I have a car, I could come to you
C) Brooklyn is actually ON Long Island but shhhhh...don't tell anyone!!!
"Is there any chance of you moving to Park Slope in the next 3 months?"
Really? You think I'm moving for you before we've even met? No, I don't think so. But good luck with your search. Might I suggest you map out your 15 minute radius and then just start knocking on doors. Ooh, you could start with your own apartment building. Then you'd be really close by! You know, not necessarily with someone who makes you unbelievably happy. Just within a short walking distance.
Ok, maybe I'll just tell myself he was gay...
Thursday, May 20, 2010
His profile says he's 34. He seems really nice, smart, moderately funny and perfectly acceptable looking. Owns his own home, drives a nice car, has a steady job. We start chatting via the website, then through text and then finally, on the phone. Turns out that we've got birthdays the same week, so we decide that when we meet up, it'll be a quasi-celebration of both of us turning a year older. Me, 29 and him, 35.
But wait, what's that you say? You're turning 44??? How can that be? Your profile says you're 34. A decade is not a small difference. "Well, when I wrote that, I mixed up the numbers. I wrote 3-4 instead of 4-3. And since I look pretty young, no one's questioned it. But yeah, I'm 44."
And this is the moment I realize what men really want. They want to be dating a 20 something. 20 year old men want to date 20 year old women. 30 year old men want to date 20 year old women. And 40 year old men want to date 20 year old women. So basically, once you're out of college, you're screwed. Past 25, you are actually too old for anyone to date, over 30, good luck and over 40, just forget it. Which means I have one more year left to market myself as a 20-something before I am officially labelled as too old to be dateable and may wander around the planet single for the rest of my days.
Funny, since I just rejected a 20 year old...
i know i''m only 20 but i''m funny mature lovable and i think u r so dam gorgeous ;) if you give me a chance to get to know you will see how i will make you so happy
I believe the site you're looking for is cougars.com of which I am not a member. Thanks anyway.
~Too Old for You
Yesterday, I was invited out for possibly the most original, most intimate, scariest first date ever.
He had called while I was in the shower, which I made the mistake of divulging when I responded back. I gave him my standard hot showers & hot chocolate (and hot sex) should never be rushed. He added "or hot tubs". Said there's nothing sweeter than a hot tub on a cool night, beautiful girl, bottle of wine... Do we think he's done this before?
I laughed and asked whose jacuzzi would we have to steal for that date? He told me no one's, he has a hot tub in his backyard. He could pick me up in his Mercedes if I wanted.
Hot tub? Mercedes? Um, 1980 called. They want their moves back.
I thanked him for the offer but confessed I didn't often go on first dates that required bathing attire. "Who said anything about bathing attire? You don't have to wear anything if you don't want to." Dude... really???
"Well, unless you want to wear a swim cap." Yeah cause that's what I had in mind.
Suffice it to say I will not be plunging into that relationship anytime soon. Try your cheese fest on someone else, thanks!
Monday, May 10, 2010
Camaro Guy, Part 3
Since his choice of "Italian" food on Date # 2 was slightly disappointing, I take charge of our lunch plans for the third date. It's a bright, sunny afternoon and I happen to know this great burger & fries place located between our two towns. They have delicious salads for me, and a nice atmosphere. All is going to plan until we show up there and the hostess tells us they have no power. None. It's a total black out. She offers us the opportunity to stay for some drinks but they can't promise us they'll have food at all...
No thanks, we'll go someplace else. So where does he suggest? Applebee's. More chain food. Great.
Still, I put a smile on my face and off we go, me in my mom van and him in the Batmobile. (I was at least hoping for another ride!!!) We settle in, order, and the conversation just flows like we're old friends catching up after a while apart. He's so easy to talk to and so easy on the eyes that I find myself having a good time. I tell the little voices in my head saying "why hasn't he kissed you yet?" to shut the hell up! I sip my bottled root beer and we chat about everything.
Now, I've never been a fan of restaurants with tv's in them (See ADD guy's blog for the Red Sox disaster). So I can't help getting a little annoyed when I realize he's checking out commercials while I'm in the middle of a story. He laughs out loud and I turn to see what was so funny. It's a Family Guy commercial. Seriously???
I have this theory about men who watch Family Guy. They are usually in their late 20's, early 30's, single (and don't know why) and living in their parents' basements. Run the other way when you meet them. Trust me.
He launches into how he has spent the weekend catching up on stuff from his DVR. Family Guy, The Simpsons, South Park, the Cleveland Show, and I'm sitting there smiling politely and feigning interest. Then he can't stop gushing about all the Sci-Fi shows he loves that are on and how he met a bunch of his favorite characters at the last comic book convention he went to.
Wait, it took 3 dates for the fact to come out that you're a complete geek??? But you drive a sports car!!! How can this be???
He notices at some point that my eyes have glazed over and I'm paying more attention to my sandwich than is absolutely necessary. Sheepishly, he grabs the check and tells me I can't help pay it, it's his treat. I thank him and start counting down the seconds til I can get out of there. At that moment, his phone rings and (does this sound familiar?) and it's his Mother. In fact, his phone lights up with the words Mommy Dearest Calling which may very well be the scariest thing I've ever seen on a cell phone screen. He answers (apologetically) and says "Mom, I'll call you back, I'm out to lunch with Kimberly, that girl I was telling you about."
He told his mom about me? Awww, that's sweet. Ok, bonus points. I mouth "Tell your mom I said Happy Mother's Day." He replies, "Here, tell her yourself." AND HANDS ME THE PHONE.
What planet do these men come from? Can they not be trained in the art of dating before being set loose on the world? How about this: In college, instead of making them take stupid classes they're never going to use (like, I don't know, literature) grant them the social skills necessary to romance a woman and win her over. These skills do not include picking your teeth at the table, blowing your nose in the napkin I have to stare at for the rest of the meal, or answering phone calls right before I *almost* made a clean getaway.
She proceeds to bombard me with the Catholic mom guilt trip about how all she wants for Mother's Day is a new mattress, but not one of those crappy pillow top ones, she wants a TempurPedic mattress and could I please convince Camaro guy to buy it for her? Since he bought her a 40" flat screen tv for her birthday earlier this month, she doesn't see why he can't go the "extra mile" and get her a new bed too. Besides, she reasons, if he has the money to take me out, he certainly has the money to spring for her new sleeping arrangements.
Excuse me, but I don't think that lunch at Applebee's costs the same as a TempurPedic bed. If it did, I'm pretty sure fewer people would be eating good in the neighborhood, if you know what I mean.
I am also fairly certain that any man who buys his mother flat screen televisions and mattresses needs a therapist more than a girlfriend.
I politely (read, through gritted teeth and a phony smile) wish her a happy mother's day and tell her good luck with the whole mattress situation. I hand the phone back to her son but she's already hung up before he can say good-bye. Guess she didn't really wanna talk to him that much anyway. Just use me to advance her cause.
We walk out to the parking lot and I give him a brief hug good-bye. I don't linger in the hopes of that kiss or even angle for another date set up later in the week. I'm pretty sure the cartoons, comic books and mom call were my last straw and I can hear my own mother's words ringing in my head: NEXT!!!
Camaro guy asked me out for a second date, and it's the first time I'm really looking forward to seeing someone again. Among the stacks of losers I've spoken to these past few months, he seems like a regular guy. He asks if I like Italian food and of course, the answer is yes. I mean, who doesn't love a meal covered in sauce and cheese, right?
He directs me to a "family owned" pizzeria with seating in the back. It's not quite the chain restaurant that the previous pizza date brought me to, but it's also not "real" Italian food. Somewhere in between. Not offensive, not delicious. Just kinda there.
He tells me that he used to get the Chicken Marsala every time (this place is just a few blocks away from his house) but has recently discovered Chicken Francaise. I'm sorry, you're 33 years old and you JUST discovered chicken with yummy lemon sauce? What rock have you been hiding under? Seriously, these men astound me. I'm not so snobby as to think everyone is a culinary expert but Chicken Francaise is kind of an elementary dish, don't you think? Like, anyone who's ever been to a wedding or a buffet of any kind could tell you what it is. Still, we split mozzarella sticks for an appetizer (which are still slightly frozen in the middle) and each order the chicken; mine with pasta, his without. Who passes up pasta?
*Note to self: must stop judging men based on their food choices. Although he has an even more Italian last name than I do so this is really confusing!*
The conversation turns to family and I ask about his parents and siblings. His parents are divorced so he has 1 sister and 3 stepsisters. Here's the twist (I knew there'd be one): His dad married his aunt which makes her his stepmom, so his stepsisters are actually his cousins on his mother's side. Um, excuse me? This is a little too reminiscent of I Am My Own Grandpa...
Then, because his mixed-up family wasn't weird enough, we somehow get onto the topic of dentists. Yes, I swear, he brings up dental hygiene and we discuss braces, cavities and fillings for a solid 10 minutes. I'm still hanging on his every word because I do think he's cute and even the redneck family tree and teeth talk haven't deterred me from making this second date work.
Finally, we both finish eating and are headed to the movies. We picked Date Night to see because A) it's appropriate B) it's not a chick flick (which he hates) and C) it's not a sci-fi action cartoon (which I hate). Then he suggests we take one car instead of two and asks if I'd like him to drive. Me? Go for a ride in a 2010 Camaro? Um, let me think about that... YES!!!
Can I just tell you that this beats the pants off my mini mom van! It is so low to the ground, I feel like my ass might just rub up against the pavement at any minute. It's fast but he's a careful driver, which makes me feel really comfortable. I don't usually let anyone else drive me places (some might say I have control issues) especially this early on knowing someone. But this is the Batmobile we're talking about. I feel like a rock star the entire drive up the Meadowbrook Parkway!!!
We get there and he buys the tickets, despite just having paid for dinner. I had offered to get the tickets but he insisted on treating me like a lady, opening all the doors, picking up all the checks. I'm sure it won't happen with most of the other men out there, so I'll take the princess treatment while I can. Who says chivalry is dead? I compromise with him by saying that since he bought our tickets, I'll get the popcorn. That plan is quickly squashed when he receives a Free Popcorn with ticket coupon off his rewards card! Sigh, I tried.
The movie is funny. It's a nice romance / comedy / action balance so that we're both enjoying it. But not once does he attempt to put an arm around me, snuggle me, even rest a hand on my leg. I try to cuddle up to him a little bit via the arm rest in between us but he stays put through the whole film. What's going on here? The man dropped $75 so far tonight without expecting so much as bodily contact? Hmmm...
I'm kind of disappointed but trying not to show it as we make our way out of the theatre. It is obvious that my dreams of having our first kiss in the Camaro are not going to happen tonight. He drives us back to my car through the rain and the dark and I'm wondering what the hell went wrong? I'm wearing my tightest jeans, my cutest sweater, my most delicious perfume, I made an effort with make up and thought I was sending all the right signals out there. Ah well, I guess this is the end of the road, Jack.
You can imagine my surprise when I get a text on the way home asking when we can have a 3rd date...
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
He's probably the best looking guy I've spoken to online so far. But as we've already learned, pictures can be deceiving. So I Facebook him, just in case. Nope, looks good there too. Ok, here we go.
I am driving on ______ Avenue about to turn onto ______ Road when I notice a hot car in front of me. I might be a girl, but even I can tell that a Camaro is sexy as hell. He pulls into the coffee shop parking lot and I have a brief flash of hope. There's no way that's my date, right? I'm not that lucky. Good looking guy in an expensive car... it's not even possible. Or is it?
So I text him from the parking lot "I just pulled in." He replies almost instantly "Me too." I get out of my car and there he is, opening the door to the 2010 blue Camaro...my date! Giddy as a school girl doesn't even begin to cover it.
He hugs me hello and tells me I look just like my pictures which he promises is a compliment. We grab comfy leather arm chairs by the window and order drinks at the counter. Not wanting to appear overly optimistic, I don't want to order a large. Not wanting to appear cynical, I don't want to order a small. So I ask the barista by what name they call a medium. He laughs out loud and says he's really glad I'm not pretentious. He usually gets his coffee at 7-11 because he doesn't speak the mixture of French / Italian / Jibberish that people order their coffees by nowadays. He just likes his coffee to be coffee. Relief! I take out my wallet to pay but he insists on getting the drinks. "I don't have enough opportunities to spend my money on a beautiful woman." Ok by me!!!
Two hours go by and the conversation is non-stop. Turns out we went to the same high school, except he was class of '95 and I was class of '98. I tease him about being a Senior dating a Freshman which he finds hysterical. Ah, the good old days when all it took was a note stuck in a locker to go out with or break up with a person. When you were considered a couple if anyone caught you holding hands in the hallway. We chat about teachers, principals, sports, shows, anything and everything we can think of to do with our high school days. He makes me laugh and I can't help but thinking "this is the first guy I've wanted to kiss in a really, really long time." Good sign, right?
We finally get up to go and another delicious hug ensues, the kind that lingers for just a moment longer than I'd thought it would. Being a gentleman though, he bids me good night and says we'll talk soon. Sigh... anything worth having is worth waiting for. But I can't wait for the second date!!!