Over the course of these dates I have had highlights and lowlights and stretches of stress and boredom and excitement.
As is my want, I have decided to focus on the lowlights for this blog entry. I have ratcheted up the anonymity here, so there will not even be any codenames used for the girls, but I will say this: I do not anticipate the co-stars of any of these lowlights to even be THINKING about me, let alone thinking of reading this blog.
Worst Start to a Date
We had already been out on a date or two. She was cute and quirky and I was looking forward to having a relaxed dinner with her in order to get to know her better.
I drove to Belltown and (miraculously) got a spot around the corner from her building, where I was to pick her up. I was about 10 minutes early, so I sat in my car, listening to sports radio or something. At the appointed time, I gave her a call to let her know that I was downstairs.
Unfortunately, she didn't pick up. I got her voicemail, and I hung up to call her right back. I've certainly been known to have my phone muted, so it wasn't a big deal.
The second call yielded the same results. It was odd, so I wandered over to the door to her building and called her up from there. Still no response.
At this point it was about 10 minutes after when we were supposed to meet. I didn't really want to drive home and then get a call halfway there, so I decided to kill some time. I went back to my car and listened to the radio some more. Called a bit later. Nothing.
In this situation now? I would have probably just gone home. While I've only been stood up once by any woman other than this one (and that was probably due to events beyond the control of the stand-upper), I just wouldn't wait around for 20 or 30 minutes. Let alone 40.
After 40 minutes, though? I got a call. She was upstairs and could buzz me up.
When I finally saw her, I was a bit agitated. Although, as always with this woman, I was less upset than just... puzzled. In a classic exchange that cemented her place in the pole position of worst start to a date.
Me: Hey... so are you OK?
Her: Yes. Why?
Me: Uh... what do you mean, "Why?" I've been waiting for 40 minutes.
Her: Oh, yeah. Sorry.
Me: What were you doing?
Her: Masturbating.
I swear that's what she said. So ... puzzling.
Worst Kiss
The previous story was pointing the finger at a lady friend... this one was ENTIRELY on me. Based on inexperience... not in terms of technique, but in terms of ... hmm ... personal health.
OK. So here's the scoop: I am what the kids call "disease-free". Given my inexperience with people (women) in certain regards, though, I became a bit hypochondriacal about things. I read about just about every kind of infection and malady and disease that I MIGHT catch by being a single guy.
I had flown down to Los Angeles to see a friend (go with me here) and we went to a karaoke bar (shocking, I know). I sang a song and it was fun but I remember thinking, "Man, a lot of people have used this microphone tonight... I probably should not have been touching it with my lips."
Fast forward a couple of weeks. I shaved my upper lip whiskers and there was a big zit right by my lip line.
I've seen my share of zits on my face, but for some reason this one was different. It was big and angry and it flouted convention and denied reason. I took steps to get rid of it, but after a WEEK it was still there. I, naturally, was reading about all of the horrible things it could be online. I concluded that I'd caught something nasty from the mic at the LA karaoke bar.
In the meantime, I'd met a girl. We'd gone on a couple of dates. We decided to take a walk around Greenlake and we came back to her place after. I think that we actually got along well, and I was pretty sure that we were going to go on another date.
Until the end of the date, when the Zit That Would Not Die combined with my ability to find scary medical info from the Web to queer the whole deal. (As an aside: Is that a homophobic phrase? I should probably do some research. For the nonce I'm treating it in a similar way to using the word "niggardly": it sounds bad but it doesn't put anyone down.)
One of the cheesiest things a guy can do (right up there with wearing the same style of hat as his big group of buddies) is talk about his ability to kiss. Until and unless it can be quantified and I can talk honestly about my kissing percentile, I will merely concede this: I'm not a terrible kisser.
The thing is, when I leaned in to kiss my date, I totally freaked out. I felt like she had to be staring at my lip. I wondered if I had some sort of viral infection that I was going to pass on to her if I kissed her. I was utterly distracted.
And it showed. I think I got in the general vicinity of her mouth, but there was no energy, there was no spark, and there was no passion coming from me. While (a) I don't know exactly how it felt for her, and (b) I've never made out with a blind chimpanzee, I am pretty sure that she thought it felt like making out with a blind chimpanzee.
I was horrified. I was paranoid.
And I never called her again. And she never called me.
Most important: my doctor almost laughed at me when I went into the doctor's office to see him a couple of days later. Tests revealed that I had a blemish.
Ooops.
Worst Post-Date Communication (type one)
With few exceptions, I don't usually see too many horrifically entertaining statements or actions during a date. I am a laid-back guy and women tend to be kind to my face, even if they harbor fury (or apathy) in their hearts for me.
I've broken the Post-Date Communications down into a few categories because there are so many that I've had that have been a thousand times worse/better than most things that have happened during the actual dates.
Type one is one that takes place between dates... not a challenge for a second date (Type two), a final word (Type three), or final non-word (Type four).
I had a date with a woman. It was date four or five, I think, and I did something at the end of a date that, as advice to guys from me, guys should never do. Just don't piss off a chick with the last thing you say before you leave. And then, as a corollary, don't totally have forgotten what you said.
I won't go into the details, but I did that. I said something as a throw-away comment, and she took it the wrong way. She had agreed we were going to go out at a particular time to a particular place two days later, and so I followed up the morning of our next date.
She had been stewing on the 17 words (or however many there were) for about 36 hours, as it turns out, and she didn't respond to my first txt. I pinged her again at about 4:00, to ensure that it was cool that I picked her up as planned.
I got back a terse txt that said,
"I'm not sure dinner works for me. I'm upset."
Such a classic upset woman txt. She was declining, but with some deflection. She also didn't indicate that she was upset with ME. So I dug my grave more deeply with,
"Rough day? C'mon! Dinner will be fun. I'll let you touch me."
If she saw humor in that, she did not indicate it with,
"What you said really irritated me."
Uh. Yeah. I had NO idea what she was talking about. We had the following exchange:
"Today? My earlier txt was pretty benign, given it was 8 words."
"No. What you said before you left the other night."
"Uh... are you fucking with me? Really. What did I say?"
"You said something about [deleted for blog purposes]."
"I did? Um. I don't even remember that. I doubt I used those words. Why are you pissed off?"
"You said it. And you were not joking."
I dimly recalled saying it, to be honest. But in a three hour date, everyone should get a mulligan. And the comment wasn't even THAT bad. So I tried one last push to save our dinner plans:
"I am sorry. I didn't mean it. Let me apologize in person tonight over dinner."
Even now, I think that was the best move I could have made. I was being sincere and I thought that if we just talked it out it would be fine. Instead? I got this:
"I do not need people with that attitude in my life. Fuck off now."
Wow. I think I stared at my phone for, like, two minutes straight. I was shocked.
I eventually (if temporarily) won her back by writing a blog about it and sending her the link. We went out one or two more times after I won her back. This chick was a temporary part of my life, but "Fuck off now." is eternal.
Worst Post-Date Communication (type two)
Type two post-date communications involve some sort of a challenge for a second date. I count my lucky stars most women aren't retarded enough to make this kind of challenge to me. Fortunately one did, at least, so I can relate it here.
I met a woman online. She was attractive and seemed smart and cultured on her profile, but she seemed a bit high maintenance. I believe that "high maintenance" tends to be overused as a phrase... if a girl likes a guy, they will often shift away from that sort of thing, in my experience. I might be wrong.
In any case, she lived up to her online profile on all fronts.
She was attractive. She was smart and had an interesting background. We had a reasonably good time, and I walked her home and we agreed to see a movie together later in the week.
Naturally, I got back to her a day or two later to figure out a time and place. She got back to me with the following email:
"Hi, Ed. I had a good time, too. I might be interested in seeing you again, but I was wondering what you would arrange for us to do. What would be an exciting date for us to go on?"
I read a lot of bullshit online. I have a thick skin in terms of not getting angry, etc., but this pissed me off. Firstly, she'd already agreed to go out with me. Secondly, she was implying that the dinner and conversation that we'd shared was somehow insufficient and/or had to be dramatically improved to be acceptable.
Finally? It was a challenge. Screw her.
So I emailed her back an idea about getting a pizza and playing pool or something. Something that I like to do (although I am the worst two-armed billiards player on the West coast) and something that I want girls I like to like, but not anything that I was going to be unable to sustain over time.
She didn't bite and we never spoke again.
Worst Post-Date Communication (type three)
Type three is an actual bit of communication that ends the dating relationship.
The winner in this category has, shockingly, a bit of a story behind it.
I dated a woman who was smart and cute and interesting. She also was Chinese and Mormon and lived with her parents.
After a couple of dates, she told me we could only be friends. I asked for reasons, of course, and she gave them to me:
1. I made her feel stupid, and
2. Her parents would NEVER accept me because I was neither Chinese nor Mormon, and
3. She was mad at all men.
Wow. I could dedicate a whole blog to ripping that list to shreds, but after going over the finer points (and failings) of her list--while appreciating that she was being honest--I told her no.
I told her I did not want to be friends. That I had a lot of friends already and I'm not going to act like it's cool that we're just buddies. She was surprised, and she sort of had an "OK, you missed out on this, buddy!" kind of attitude over chat, but it ended nicely enough, with each of us going our own ways.
Or almost ended nicely enough.
I was frustrated over her stupid fucking little list, and I fired off a MySpace message to her the next day. I said some things that were direct and honest but reasonable. It was a last-ditch effort to get her to relax and enjoy spending time with me.
And it was not received well. At all.
Her reply was clear and to the point:
"I do not believe that your email was appropriate at all. Please do not contact me again."
SNAP!
I did not contact her again.
Worst Post-Date Communication (type four)
Type four is the final non-word. Where a chick just drops off the face of the planet. The most complete example I have is a woman that I took to dinner. We went to a second location and got some coffee... it wasn't the most fantastic date in the history of mankind, but it was pleasant. She worked at a coffee stand but she seemed like a good person. And she was cute. Actually, she was cute enough that she had been stalked by some of her coffee stand patrons and she seemed a bit skittish about that.
I told her that I'd call her and she said that would be good.
I called and left a voicemail a few days later. No response. I went to send her a MySpace message and ... her MySpace account was deleted. A txt went unreturned. As did a second one about a week later.
I have no idea what happened to her. I can't understand why she didn't just take 30 seconds to send me a txt or an email or whatever to let me know that she was not only not into me but was not interested in ever seeing me again.
Maybe she just took the easy way out... or maybe she got scooped up by a customer and she's living in a small room dug out below the basement of his SeaTac home.
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