A Man's Perspective

 Hi my dear readers :) Following is a guest appearance from a man...Yes, a man. Dating sucks on both sides (apparently) and I feel it is only fair to be open minded to the male perspective (even though its probably wrong.... I jest...mostly). Enjoy! :)


Hello, for a moment I’m going to be gender shifting the Glass Emporium of Failed Dates for a brief service announcement (rant) from an apparently dwindling and often forgotten subset of men.

As we’re all aware, and this blog serves as proof, there are a lot of assholes, douchebags and creeps out there in the dating world and the proportion seems to be growing by the day. This is an issue of supply, due to a combination of popular culture, absent parenting and generalized idiocy us men are pumping out enough D-bags per day to found a small country, drive that country into poverty through the importation of nothing but Jaeger and Redbull, and then raze it to the ground amid the glorious grunts of the Neanderthals’ fist bumping. That side of the equation is certainly problematic.

However there are two sides to any equation. Let’s say I start a company that makes Ass hats. If nobody was in the market for hats for their asses I probably wouldn’t be in business for very long, would I? Classic supply and demand right? This corollary holds true in this instance as well. Ladies, you are the ones creating a demand for an absurd abundance of rampant douchebaggery. Ladies, you know those saptastic romance movies the majority of you love? Have you ever said the words (or an approximation thereof), “I want to be appreciated”, “I want someone who is honest and loyal”, “I want to be treated special” etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseam. Well guess what? The majority of the time you shun these opportunities. Say you meet a nice guy, and said nice guy asks to take you on a date. You agree, you go out on a date, it goes well. He picks you up, you do something nice, something fun, he opens doors, compliments you appropriately, offers to pay for dinner and at the end of the night says how wonderful it was and that he can’t wait to do it again. Sounds awesome right? Like something you would go for? Logically that would make sense but 9 times out of 10 this is an absolute fallacy. As women you tend to have multiple paths you can walk down at any given time with regards on who to date. Let’s say you also have a member of the lesser morally constrained population knocking on your door. The majority of you will be answering that knock and keeping the nice guy as a friend. Why? Because you can, hell the nice guy will probably swallow their pride and remain friendly and reliable and in no time you could be crying on their shoulder because the asshole, started acting like an asshole. I can say that this is true because I’ve been on both sides of this spectrum.

I was an asshole in more than a few relationships and I am an alcoholic to boot (although no longer actively practicing). I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve been an all-around idiot within the constructs of my relationships with women. But you know what? I am proud of exactly 0% of this behavior but I will gladly own it. I didn’t start that way, I was brought there after a string of failed relationships in my early 20s that made it clear that being a gentleman wasn’t going to get me anywhere, so I said screw it. Even the kindest of animals can turn if you neglect them enough. Hell, I’d wager if there was a way to turn a dyslexic sloth into a stone cold killer it would only be through the myriad of mindf**ks you ladies put us through. But you know what? I never had a problem beginning or maintaining a relationship, meaningful or not when acting that way. Now I’ve come full circle, I’m back to my roots when it comes my behavior towards women and, get this, I know others who are the same way. We exist.

About a year ago I entered back into the dating world after a self-imposed hiatus and in that time frame I can no longer count on my two hands how many times this exact situation has played out:

1. Meet Girl
2. Ask girl out
3. Take girl out have great time
4. Attempt to go out again
5. Consistent disconnection
6. Oh I got back with my asshole ex/started seeing some asshole

It has gotten to the point where I just watch it unfold and chuckle…what else can I do? Anytime I or my compatriots bring it up with a female friend or acquaintance we receive the same responses; some variation of, “Well that’s her loss.” Well yippe-kay-yay, let’s all bake a cake and celebrate. Now I’d imagine I have to have some culpability and its not like I’m without flaws. I have many, and I’ll list them out for someone if they ask me to, they’re part of what makes me, well me I guess. I wear those, and I work on them, I look to try and better myself, when I’m wrong I’ll admit it. These are the things that the vast majority of women say that they want before going back to sitting at home waiting for some douche canoe to come home 3 hours late after getting housed with his bros on a Tuesday night.

 So with that out of the way, lets tackle some more specific issues that keep both you and us from finding an understanding.

1. We do nice things for you because we value you, we’re attracted to you and we like to show our appreciation. This may be through compliments, gestures, small thoughtful gifts, a genuine interest in who you are and what you’re doing, This doesn’t mean that we’re trying to go from zero to sixty into marriage it is how we believe you should be treated. Hell it’s how you say you want to be treated.

2. It’s not a competition, if we go out of our way to do something special for you we don’t require nor expect you to try to best it. What we value is our time with you, be appreciative but more importantly just keep showing up and being yourself…that’s the end goal. If it wasn’t we wouldn’t do those things for you.

3. If you’ve made it past 1 and 2 and your excuse is that you don’t feel you deserve to be treated as such (all too common) take a step back and smack yourself in the face. Everyone deserves to be treated that way and cared for unconditionally.

4. If you find yourself in a sort of pseudo relationship (without commitment) because you don’t think you can be the girlfriend your gentleman deserves (I’ve heard this one in many varieties from multiple people on both sides of the equation). Either get over yourself and realize that it doesn’t matter if you can’t wrap your head around it or walk away and stop abusing their kindness. You can only play that game for so long before you wear even the most patient person down to a resentful shell of themselves.

So yes, us gentlemen do exist… and in much greater numbers than you think. We hide in plain sight, our attention is obvious but for some reason the majority of women seem to opt for pissing into the wind while trying to convince themselves its raining.

In the end, Ladies, if you come across a nice guy give it a shot. Don’t get caught up in things like, whether it’s the kind of chase you want or any of that nonsense, just remember what you want out of your love life and make your decision from there and let us know. We won’t hold it against you if you decide to have someone urinate all over your romantic fantasies in a way that would make R. Kelly blush but it’d be nice to at least have a heads up if that’s the direction you decide to go.

Fin.

The Victim

It’s funny how a first impression can make you blind… and its funny, that it’s not funny at all. Sometimes you meet someone that seems to be everything you have been looking for. They are not perfect, but perfect for you…or so you think. 

This happened to me… I was blind, blinded by The Victim. 

I met The Victim online (go figure). Our first date was at a bar that had a great outdoor patio with an even greater fire pit. When he walked up…I thought it was going to go nowhere. He wasn’t my type. But when I talked to him, he seemed to have such kind eyes. I fall for this every time…the “kind” eyes. They say that your eyes are windows to your soul…and maybe it’s true. But the windows must be pretty, stained glass that is hiding all of your baggage. 

Anyways, he walked up in terrible clothing…which I later found out to be his nice outfit. The outfit he always wore to impress. The same outfit he later wore to meet my mom. I also, found out later that this was something I found to be super endearing. It’s adorable when guys don’t know how to dress themselves. (Not to mention, as a woman, we always want something to change…and clothing is the one thing you can).  The point is…I judged him. I judged him to be someone that wasn’t going to be a match for me. And the truth is, although you should never judge a book by its cover, I should have followed my first instincts. 

Our first date ended up being great. He was a good conversationalist, he seemed to really listen to (and actually care about) what I was saying. He made eye contact…with those sweet, kind eyes.  So, we made plans to see each other again.

We ended up spending tons of time together. If we weren’t together, we were talking on the phone. Everything was wonderful! He wanted to spend time with me, he wanted to help with house chores and garage sales and picking me up from the airport. He told me how beautiful I am…but that what he was falling for most was my heart. He told me that I have a kind heart. He told me lots of things… and all of them made me melt. 

I really believed I had met who I had been looking for. He came from a different background, and had different interests, but he had a great sense of humor and he made me feel special. I had fun with him. I felt safe with him.

And then… well, it all went to shit!

I started to notice, but didn’t want to really pay attention at first, to his drinking. It took me longer than I would like to admit, because, well, I drink too. But I control it. I always stay true to who I am, whether I’m drunk, want to drink, or hung over. That was the difference. He seemed to be a different person. It was like dating two totally different people. One was sweet and attentive; the other was distant and dishonest. 

I brought up his drinking. I asked if it was a problem. I thought we worked through it. And then, I caught him sneaking shots of vodka from my cabinet…and then, I was stupid. I brought it up right then (patience has never been my virtue), and the next day, he was gone…without a word. I didn’t hear from him for five days. The longest we had gone prior was two days, and only because I was in Mexico with no phone.

 And then, finally, he called.

He told me that he missed me.

I took him back. I trusted that things would be different.

I was wrong.

We were back together for three days, and then the weekend came. I thought I was going to see him, after all we had made plans, but he said he had to work overtime. I heard from him at midnight and he was drunk…wasted drunk. He was nasty. I was no longer sweet, I was judgmental. I was no longer beautiful; I was a bitch that no one could love. Apparently because I expected to hear from him, I was trying to be his mother. We didn’t talk for the rest of the weekend. Then Monday morning came, and he called. 

Again, he missed me.

Again, I took him back.

Again, I was wrong.

This happened two more times over the course of two months, sometimes going three weeks without talking. I am embarrassed to admit it. Everyone told me not to. Everyone said I deserve better. But that damn first impression kept me hopeful… it kept me blind. And I believed (still do) that he is a good person. He has so much to offer…if he could just fix himself.

 I even searched out stories of people that had given up drinking, and changed their lives. I kept hoping he would be another success story. But, he didn’t believe in himself the way I believed in him. I kept holding on, longer than I ever should have, that I meant enough for him to want to change. But in his heart, he is a victim. He wants to blame everything and everyone else for his problems. It’s never easy to admit that you are the cause of all your pain. And, he just wasn’t ready to take that step.

They say it takes a few months for someone to show their true colors. My experience has shown this to be pretty accurate. But, I just think it is so hard to let go, especially when you believe in someone. Sometimes you just want to close your eyes and hold on to a great concept…cause that really is all that you have... an idea of someone. I still catch myself wishing things went differently. I still miss that euphoric feeling I had those first few months. I don’t miss him, but I sure miss how he made me feel… well, I guess, if I’m honest, I do miss him...at least the one side. But for now, I’m holding out for someone that I can love every side of. 

Ugh, Dating!

Derek...My Car

A few years ago, I desperately wanted a new car. I had the CRV in my sights. I manifested getting this car. I thought they were so cute…and different from what I had been driving my whole life. The day came…I got an awesome deal on a lease…first time ever leasing (and last). I was so pumped up about finally getting my car that I didn’t even focus on what I liked about it. I named the car Derek. Over the course of the year and half I had Derek, I realized that I had no love towards it. The outside was beautiful…but the inside was boring. I grew to hate that car…even though there was nothing overall terrible about it. It just wasn’t for me.

The point of this story is that I went on a date...his name is Derek.  I was instantly excited about him. He actually asked questions and seemed interested in my answers. We talked for hours with no lapse…and he was super cute. And then, he asked to meet me (yes, I met him online). He suggested the dog park…another plus…he is a dog lover. 

The day came to meet him. It was over one hundred degrees outside and we are going to a dog park. How do you look cute for this? As soon as I walk outside, I will sweat my bangs out…they get curly…believe me, it’s not attractive. But, I stayed positive. I threw on cute shorts and a tank top (and lots of hairspray)… and drove to the park… and hoped that the name Derek was not symbolic.

We said hello, hugged, and walked around. It was hard to even focus though…there were millions of flies. They were everywhere. It was like a plague. I started to become terrified that if I opened my mouth to talk, one might fly in. Ugh! We tried to just keep moving...but nothing worked. You would have thought there were rotting carcasses lying around the park. We started to look like crazy people…smacking ourselves, and dancing around. All of this, I found funny. Apparently he didn’t. He hit himself in the face pretty good…I laughed (maybe bad timing?). He shook it off and we walked to the cars. (Don't worry, he seemed to walk fine. He didn't hit himself that hard). He said he needed to "get out of these flies". Understandable! 

The entire date lasted 27 minutes. I didn’t even realize I had signed up for speed dating. It was awkward, nothing like our phone conversations. I walked to my car (by myself) very confused…How did that date go? No clue! 

He had asked me what my schedule was like this week. He said next time we will do something inside. He said he would call me.  Maybe, it is soon…but I haven’t heard from him. And the truth is...I’m okay with it. I just want something more. I want to feel excited about the car, even after I drive it. (No, this is not a sex analogy...but if it were, I would say the same thing).

And then, it hit me. He is like my CRV. Exciting and new and pretty to look at…but boring inside. He came to the park and left his humor at home. Maybe he was tired (he said he had worked 32 days straight).  Maybe he wasn’t attracted to me (although my pictures are pretty accurate online).  Or, Maybe,  it wasn’t actually him that I talked to on the phone…. Maybe he is the face? Maybe, the guy I actually talked to on the phone was too embarrassed to meet me, because he has some kind of weird growth or something…and so he sends Derek to represent him in person. There are just so many ‘maybe’s’! 

Whatever it was, the point is that I want something more! I want more than a reliable car with power windows, and a pretty exterior. I want something with power and corky-ness (like secret compartments).  I just don’t want another Derek.

Ugh, Dating!