The Twitchy Pot Smoker

I met the Twitchy Pot Smoker online, of course. The problem with online dating is you can’t tell from the pictures that the guy is twitchy, or high. Maybe they should start having videos instead of pictures so you can get a better vibe…although, that could be terrifying. I’m sure there would be endless videos that would be dirty, surprising, and traumatizing. There are tons of profiles with guys half naked, pulling their pants down just high enough to not be banned from these sites. I’m not joking…I have seen more than I bargained for on several profiles. So, at least the Twitchy Pot Smoker had clothes on in all his pictures.

It started by email. It started with cute conversations about how awesome our dogs our, and how awesome we are for both having Border collie breeds (well, I think mine is), and naming them Lily (although his had two ‘LL’…which should have been my first warning). We didn’t email much before deciding to meet…Which is how I like it. I’m not a fan of emailing, or as you know…texting, forever. I would rather meet and determine if I want to waste any more of my time and life on this stranger. (well, I guess it wouldn't be a waste...if I wanted to spend more time with him). So, he took my number. He texted just a few times, and didn’t ask any involving questions…so I thought this was looking good.

 Then he texted, asking me to send a photo for his contacts. I thought this was weird…and annoying. Can’t we just meet first to determine if I will even remain in his contacts? A friend of mine told me to relax…Maybe he has gone on dates with girls that looked 20 years older, or 100lbs heavier than their photos. Ugh….Fine. I sent him a photo… and secretly wished I could cancel the date. Maybe, this makes me sound crazy and unforgiving…but I’m kind of a pro now, and internet dating pro, and my patience is almost completely depleted. But, I guess that defeats the purpose…so I went on the date….Bad call!

He made me chose the place…which I also found irritating…isn’t that the man’s job? Not to mention, I hate making decisions… there are just so many wonderful options…how would you chose the right one? But, luckily for me, I was with a friend (cutting her hair), and she suggested a place. I love decisive people! And…she also, gave me a stern talking to (well, not really), and explained that the guy just moved here…he probably doesn’t know where to go. Fine…I'll get over it…but I’m not going to be excited!

So, we met at a dive bar. He was cute….but twitchy. I thought it was weird…but maybe he had a gallon of coffee before? Maybe, it’s some kind of ailment…and I shouldn’t judge? But then…he couldn’t look me in the eye…I could barely hear him talk because he was looking down or away…and I’m deaf (seriously…it’s becoming a problem. You can only say “what?” so many times). But…maybe he is just super shy and nervous?

When I would ask questions, he tried to avoid answering… he said he didn’t want me to change my opinion of him…What opinion? Did he think I had a good opinion so far? Did he just not want to make it any worse? 

He finally started talking more. He told me that he used to have long dreads and was a hardcore hippy. He told me that he is super liberal. I told him that I’m super conservative. He then started asking why I don’t think people should have healthcare. He told me that his mom died when he was 17 of cancer. He let me know it’s terrible that I am conservative. I told him that he is generalizing conservatives. Just because I follow one party more than the other…doesn’t mean that I follow everything…and just because I don’t like the health reform plan, doesn’t mean I don’t think there needs to be changes.

At this point the bouncer came over and said… “Hey you guys are breaking bar rules. You never talk about politics here…” I laughed and agreed. I told the Twitchy Pot Smoker that we probably won’t be a great match…he said we would. He said it would be fun. I said that I need another drink. He said he did too. …and then he just walks to the bar. He doesn’t ask me what I want. He just gets his drink and sits back down…so I get up and grab my own. Turns out, I know the bartender. He finds my situation hysterical. He couldn’t believe that the awkward guy was my date. He makes my drink extra strong…and tells me ill need it.

So, I sit back down. The Twitchy Pot Smoker admits he smokes weed…regularly. He says he has a medical card for it and that it’s awesome. I disagree. 

He tells me he loves 3D movies. I disagree….they make me car sick. This statement seemed to really upset him. He could handle the millions of other disagreements…but not liking 3D movies was a hard hit...apparently. But he said that he could get over it because I’m so pretty. Ummm….thanks?

Throughout the conversation, he had been throwing out cheap shots about my political beliefs. I had been patient, knowing that I don’t have to see him again…and trying to be polite. But, he threw out one too many. I told him that we are obviously not a match and that I’m gonna go home. I had only one sip from my drink, so it was very obvious I couldn’t handle anymore. He said”really? You can’t take a joke?” I said “apparently not”. So he ran to the bar and closed his tab…and I waited until he was long gone. I chatted with my friend, the bartender.

I told the Bartender that I want to meet a guy that likes to hunt, and fix things. The bouncer walked up, put out his hand and said “so, hi I’m The Bouncer” (ok…he didn’t say Bouncer, but in case I blog about him later, I need to protect his identity). I told the Bartender that I want to meet a guy that is conservative….The bouncer put out his hand again, smiled and said hi. Then the Bouncer told me to make my list. A list of what I am looking for. He said to put boxes next to each one, and told me he will check off the ones he fits in….so I did.

I made a list. He checked off every box (although some were half checked), and then he asked me for my number…. So we’ll see what happens. But starting off….it’s looking way better that the Twitchy Pot Smoker….at least the Bouncer looked me in the eyes.

Ugh, Dating!

The Date That Never Happened… because he was an Over-Texter

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I require lots of attention… I’m an Aries, the first sign of the zodiac…often referred to as the sign of the infant child. This pretty much sums me up. I get cranky when I’m tired, hungry, or needing to be coddled. Some find this adorable and endearing (those that love kids…and have ridiculous amounts of patience), others get quite irritated. So, it’s basically a blessing and a curse. And, really, I can’t be held responsible… I mean, it was written in the stars long ago.  

I’m telling you this for some insight into how excessive the Over-Texter was. I mean, I love attention…lots of it, and he still managed to over-do it. 

I met him online…. Yes, I’m back and already regretting the decision… But, I’m dedicated to you, my readers, who are highly entertained by the greatness I bring out in people. So, with that said… You are welcome!

Anyways… so we met online, and started emailing. I highly prefer talking over emailing, so I am pretty quick to give my number out. I do this to talk….not to text. If the conversation is going to stick to writing…I have no need to hand out the digits. I swear texting is ruining relationships! I tend to be on the sarcastic side…how can someone know if they can’t hear the tone of my voice? And, more importantly, who wants to take 20 minutes to have a conversation that could normally take 2 minutes…this is another side affect of being an Aries, patience is not my virtue. I like taking the quickest route to a destination. It’s a sprint not a marathon, right?

So, the Over-Texter got my number…and of course just started texting away. I was able to handle it at first. I have gotten used to the fact that guys don’t call anymore, they text. I mean, it takes no balls to text…there is no fear of embarrassing rejection, or the terrifying chance that the phone won’t be answered…and, god- NO, he would have to leave a message. Which is why whenever a guy actually calls first, he has much better odds with me to start. The Over-Texter didn’t take those odds. 

It all started slow… just questions about where he could take me to dinner. I was patient. (Even though figuring out a place to eat took half an hour. Yes, I spent half an hour of my life just figuring out where to have dinner…I could have eaten dinner in less time.) But, I was patient.  

And then it all went downhill. He started asking where my family lives, if I am close with them, etc… all questions that are meant to be talked about…not texted.  My answers started becoming shorter and shorter…so then he asked if I had questions for him… I responded by saying that I’m going to bed. 

And then day two hit… I woke up to a text…and a picture of him (luckily not a dirty one…or maybe, that would have been better, so then I wouldn’t have endured another day of incessant texting).  And, stupid me...responded. This started a whirlwind of text. He told me about his family, asked me if my parents are divorced… At this point, my patience was wearing thin. My answers were averaging one word. I yelled out loud when I heard my phone buzz.  It was getting ugly. And then, he told me his dad died twelve years ago. I apologized. He told me that his family is all spread out…but they are still super close. And then, he asked what music I like. I told him we should save something to talk about on Sunday, when we had a date planned. I told him I have limited patience with texting and that I would much prefer talking when I meet him in two days. He said ok… Five minutes later …yes, just five minutes, he asked if I like dive bars, and began telling me all about one that he goes to. I responded with one word. And then he asked if I live with roommates… I didn’t respond. He sent another text letting me know that he lives alone in an apartment.  I then sent another text, letting him know that I am busy…and done texting. I told him we can talk when we meet. 

He managed to leave me alone for six hours…and then asked how my day was. I told him I was going to bed.

Next day, first thing, I get a text. He let me know everything he had going on that day. Then he asked if I like coffee. I said yes. He then asked how I dress when I go out…do I wear heels or flip flops. I didn’t respond. He let me know that he wears jeans and t-shirts. I didn’t respond. He waited four hours, and asked “what’s up?”. I still didn’t respond. He sent me three more texts, and an email, before he finally gave up. 

As I mentioned, I require lots of attention…but the Over-Texter took attention to a whole new level. It became creepy. He seemed obsessed. I was supposed to go to dinner with him tonight. I decided it would be a bad decision. What if he followed me home? What if he tried to kidnap me and force me to text forever?  Being texted to death sounds like hell to me! These thoughts keep me up at night, clutching my shotgun!

So…on to the next one. I hope he doesn’t have a phone!

Ugh, Dating!

Hello? I'm Back...sort of...I think, Maybe

I guess you all need an explanation on my slackage (yes, slackage…if it’s not already, it needs to be a word). I haven’t blogged in months…I needed a break! Dating is exhausting, physically and emotionally. I needed time to not care about anyone but me. A chance to be as selfish as I want without worrying of another person’s feelings….and it was AWESOME! I have loved almost every second of it. I say almost, because I have been to a few weddings and other gatherings where I was the only single person…nothing makes you feel more pathetic than the oldest and most solo person at a dinner table. But, I have mastered the art of the extra wheel…I have become a pro at not crying when someone asks if I am dating anyone…. And, although it took lots of practice in the mirror, I can smile and nod, and pretend I can relate to almost any couple-y type story. Don’t get me wrong, I have been a “couple”, I know these stories, and at one time could most certainly relate…but lately, I feel 100% single…and happy with it…most of the time of course. I have always been with someone or looking for someone…this is new territory for me, and it has been great. ..But let’s be honest, although I love making decisions with no one in mind but me, I’m no spring chicken.

The truth is, my looks are just gonna keep going downhill…unless I’m a Demi Moore, but I get a bad feeling I’m not. So I need someone to fall in love with me quick before I’m a total disaster. For instance, the other day, I realized my wrinkles are deepening. I have hit the age of the the deepening wrinkle! (Don’t worry, I’m doing all I can…I bought an aloe plant and apply it every day to slow this process, but I’m sure it can only do sooo much).  So, for these reasons (and my actively aging ovaries)…I think I need to start dating again.

So, with that said…I guess I need to get back out there. But what do I do, where do I go? I guess, I could tattoo “single and ready to mingle” on my forehead…in Henna, of course, I wouldn’t want that to be permanent…that could ruin everything!

I know I can just get back online…but let’s be honest, that really is only going to help this blog…

Ugh, Dating!

Dirk

Normally I don’t use actual names…but in this instance I had to…I think it really adds to the overall description of the guy.  I apologize if your name is also Dirk…Im sure you are totally cool and this will not at all apply to you.

Many years ago, I made the mistake of telling my friends that I like tall, skinny, geeks. This is a mistake, I will not make again….this mistake led me to Dirk.

Before I paint a picture (verbal picture…not actual painting…I am already traumatized enough by the memory, I don’t need a visual reminder), let me tell you how it all started…

My friend told me that she works with a guy, he does IT and is single and looking. She told me he is exactly what I am looking for, based on my descriptions. She told me that he is skinny and geeky. I was like “hell yeah! Set me up!”… I love skinny geeks.

Now, I think I should elaborate on what and why I go for the skinny geeks. When I say skinny, I don’t mean emaciated…close, but not quite. I like skinny, because I am not… I figure it is my obligation to give my kids a fighting chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to eat, and eat, and eat….and never gain weight. I think that sounds amazing! And if I truly plan on loving my kids someday, I should try to give them what I didn’t get..right? With that said, I also don’t want to feel like I am going to crush bones when I hug someone. It really is a fine line…but important one!

As for the geek aspect….I don’t mean socially inept. I mean goofy and silly. Maybe, I should have said dork? Maybe geek means smart and weird, dork is silly and goofy? Maybe that’s where I went wrong… The thing is, I need someone silly…because I am. I don’t want to be with someone that just looks at me like I'm an idiot all day…I have had this happen…its awkward for both people.

So, anyways, now that you know what I mean…let me tell you what my friend did to me. (who, by the way, still laughs uncontrollably to this day, when thinking about it…so cruel). She decided that she would invite Dirk to her house warming party to meet me. She gave me a heads up…so I made sure to look super cute.

I got to the party before him…and when his bike rolled up, she elbowed me and pointed… at this point I wanted to run…what was she thinking? Dirk was beyond geeky…he was a neek….nerd-geek! His pants were hiked up past his belly button, and I knew this because his shirt was tucked in to show that extra high waist. He had black Reebok sneaker high tops on (everything on this guy rode high, apparently)… and he was on the line of emaciated…remember its an important line. If I accidentally stepped on this guy, I might kill him…which is also why I would be afraid to own a Chihuahua. Point being…he was not my type…at all!

But…I didn’t run. I stayed and prayed that my friend did not tell him about me. No such luck. He was following me around her house like a dog (or Chihuahua...). The conversation was brutal...it was mostly awkward silences with a lot of staring on his part.

At one point, my phone alarm rang…and he asked me what it was for. I said “nothing..just a reminder to take my medication”. He said “ooh, are you on birth control? So, you can have sex whenever you want? That’s great!”. I was speechless…uh, what just happened…I felt violated. So I walked away, and tried desperately to get involved in intense conversations with others at the party. Dirk took this opportunity to get beyond drunk. And lucky for me, he passed out on the couch. Sweet, sweet freedom! I was able to enjoy the rest of the party and go home.

The next day, my friend let me know that Karma had gotten her... Dirk had spent several hours vomiting after everyone else had gone home. Good job Dirk!!! Way to get her back for me!

I learned some valuable lessons back then… I know to never trust that friend again (with set-ups only…otherwise I love her), I know to elaborate in explicit detail what my definition is of a skinny geek (cause yes, that’s still my type), and to always have an escape route.

Ugh, Dating! Ugh, Dirk!

The cougar chaser

Ok….so technically, I am a Puma.  He taught me that age 30-40 are Pumas, age 40-50 are Cougars, and age 50-60 are Saber Tooths (or is that Saber Teeth).  It’s amazing the things you can learn from a Cougar Chaser. Although, I will say, I felt a bit better…all this time I thought I had to be extra careful, because I was in Cougar Territory… nope..just Puma Country. I wonder how low I need to go to be a Puma? All of us have a little Puma, Cougar, or Saber in us…so what exactly defines when its brought out?

Anyways….to the point:

I met the Cougar Chaser at a networking event. We exchanged cards. In fact, I exchanged cards with lots of people…its business… But the Cougar Chaser kept in touch. I thought it was all business… I was wrong. He asked me if I wanted to grab drinks sometime. Again, I thought this was business….because he is only 24 years old. I could be his momma…ok, not really.. but that’s NINE years younger… I think age doesn’t really matter much when you get to a certain age…but at 33 and 24…that’s a BIG difference. Which I tried to explain to him…as you will see.

So, we arrange to have drinks and he chooses a trendy restaurant in Scottsdale. He says he can pick me up because I am on the way…and then it dawns on me… “oh, shit! Is this a date?”  Should I put on lots of diamond (mine would be fake diamonds… Im not made of money. Sheesh) jewelry? (I picture Cougars as rich…right?) Should I wear some sort of leopard print (is there a Cougar print)?  But, I decide to dress like myself…no sense in feeding into something that will most certainly be going down- hill fast.  But, I am going to a nicer place, so I try to look presentable (which in my book, means 5 inch heels).

When he picks me up, I totally forgot that his career falls in the stinky (literally smells terrible) category…and that the stink involves his truck too. I should have offered to just drive…but it didn’t seem to faze him, and what if this could be a good networking opportunity… I don’t want to be rude. And, maybe, this isn’t a date… I mean, after all, he definitely wasn’t trying to impress me with his stink truck.

As we are pulling closer to the restaurant, I realize he is parking on the opposite side of the road, in the furthest spot. I asked him why we were parking so far from the place. He said he doesn’t like people to see/ smell the car he is coming from. Ok, I can totally understand that… But, I am also wearing 5 inch heels and now trying not to kill myself walking through both street lights on the cobblestone crosswalks. But, I made it...with out even breaking anything. (yes, still patting myself on the back for that).

At dinner, he doesn’t seem interested to talk much business. Mostly he is telling me all about himself.  His family, his high school life (yes, high school..because he is a child, and its his most recent experiences), his ex-girlfriend…etc, etc.  He doesn’t ask me anything…. So now, Im sure…this is a date… Ugh! So, me, being the soft spoken butterfly that I am, finally just ask him if this is a date. He says “well, I thought it would be nice to get to know each other”. I told him that it definitely can not be a date…Im way too old for him…not to mention, I feel like I was tricked into this date in the first place.

He told me he likes older women.  I told him that I have no interest in playing the Cougar card…and that’s when he shared with me that I am a Puma. He also was the one to let me in on all the definitions and age brackets. And then, he shared that he has dated all of them… a Puma, a Cougar, and a Saber Tooth.  So, at this point it was obvious, I had to be drastic!

I asked him if he wanted kids. He said yes, in a few years. Right now he really wants to work on building his business. I said, “exactly…and that’s what you should be focused on…but for me, my uterus is actively rotting…right now, as we speak… so I don’t have a few years.)  He was silent….. for a second.

But, this didn’t seem to really phase him… What the heck?  We talked through dinner…and the more he talked, the more clear it became, that the Cougar Chaser is looking for a mother. He wants someone with a nice house, a nice car, and empty nest syndrome that will pack him lunch everyday with all the food groups in it, and will a cute little note on the napkin saying she is proud of him. And, well…to be honest, I could see myself doing that...just would prefer it be for a man, not a boy... and with something naughty written on that napkin.

Luckily, there have been no more dates…and I actively try to send older women that love younger men and packing lunches his way.

Ugh, Dating! Ugh, trick dates!

Tight Pants- The Package Man

I met Tight Pants online. We exchanged emails and then exchanged numbers. On our first phone call, we talked for over an hour…it was great! We had tons in common and he was a great conversationalist. The unfortunate part, was our relationship consisted of these phone calls for about a month.  As the month dragged on, I started to get concerned…what if when we met, he smells funny? What if he had chronic eye boogers? What if he is totally different in person? These are all concerns when meeting people online.

Before the Internet dating epidemic (yes, epidemic …lets be honest…it has affected lots of us!), people used to meet at school, at bars, at the library (where the good girls are)…and when you meet in person you decide right away if there is chemistry…and then you go on a date to determine if you actually like the person. With the Internet epidemic, you determine if you like each other and then meet to see if there is any chemistry….lets just say, this is a failing method! …atleast, for me!

Anyways, so Tight Pants… He had a daughter and lived on the opposite side of town….and it just seemed we could never get our schedules to work. Eventually we both lost interest and stopped talking…until, six months later…he called. He told me that he had been thinking about me, and had always really enjoyed our conversations, and just figured he would call to see if I was still available (which of course, I was… I had only been Internet dating...and we know how that turns out).

So we began talking again….still great conversation, still issues with meeting. Finally, he came clean with the fact that he was putting off meeting me, because he was down to the last $20 to his name for the next week. He is a teacher and makes no money...not to mention, child support and whatnot. He said this was embarrassing to him, but he could tell he needed to be honest….because at this point we had talked for almost 2 months (overall) and had never met. I told him that I could care less about his financial situation. I have a high respect for teachers, and its not like he is a loser that cant hold a job. So, I told him lets meet…this date is on me. I would rather pay, then drag this relationship out any longer without knowing if there is anything even there.

I drove to his side of town, a good 45 minutes away, and met him at a bar/grill. I was there about ten minutes early, because I am anal retentive about being on time…seriously, it makes me anxious and stressed when I'm running late…. Which all boils down to me wasting hours upon hours of my life, waiting on people…even when they are on time. But, of course, he was ten minutes late...

When Tight Pants arrived, he walked right up to me and gave me a hug…and we got up to move to a table…this is when I noticed it. His defined package in his cargo shorts…seriously? How does that even happen? Cargo shorts! On top of the fact that he is a little guy, maybe 5ft 8in…with shoes. It looked totally out of place…and I couldn’t stop noticing it. I was so uncomfortable.  Is there a sock in there? It just doesn’t seem natural…and again, cargo shorts! God, I hope he cant read my thoughts!!! Eventually, we sat down and I could focus on his face…and we chatted. It was awkward at first, as is always the case with the Internet epidemic, but after a beer we both seemed to relax.

Now, I know I offered to take him out….but I was assuming (stupid to assume) that meant a couple of drinks and maybe an appetizer. He obviously thought it meant dinner and six beers. I think maybe, Ive been had! But the night ends decent, just said goodbye and I went home. He called me the same night to thank me, and asked when he could see me again. Because I am stupid, I invited him to an art show that I was featured in. I figured, I could give him another chance, and there would be food and drinks there, so I wouldn’t have to pay for him. And after all, I always enjoyed our conversations.

The night of the event, we met out front. As he is walking up…there is that distinctive package again….what the heck! Where does he buy his clothes? He is wearing dress pants and looks very sharp….but all I see is that defined package. Unfortunately, the event is a night of standing…no sitting to distract from that thing. So I am uncomfortable all night…and find myself trying to avoid him. I finally realized this was a sign. I just don’t have the tact to date someone that only wears package emphasizing pants. So we said our goodbyes….and later told him that I wasn’t interested.

Ugh, Dating!

GG....a friends experience

Throughout this blog, I have had many people tell me their personal dating tragedies, and I have been wanting to share their stories as well. Now you know that it is not just you...and not just me.
Here is a blog, written and experienced by a friend of mine. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did. And, if you would also like to share a comical experience of your own, email me at paintthepet@gmail.com.
So here it is..the story of GG....

Good Guy (GG)

I met GG at a bar on a night where I was dressed like a pirate. Yes, a pirate. The singles club I’m in was holding its annual Pirate Treasure Hunt which is a loose translation for “drunken pub crawl in which you get to look and act ridiculous.” Exactly my kind of party. Well, the ridiculous part, anyway.

As I’m hanging with my girlfriends, I feel a tap on my shoulder. GG said something along the lines of ‘when I saw you walk in, I had to come over and meet you.’ I believe I gave him a visible eye roll. Having come fresh out of a ‘relationship’ (I use quotes because I don’t even know what to call it) where I had been lied to pretty consistently, I wasn’t in the mood to hear a bad line. I mean, it was bad enough that about an hour before I met GG, I had been crying in the previous bar having heard more things that I had been lied to about from a guy I will affectionately refer to as “I thought you were ‘the one’, but you’re really an effing douche bag.” We’ll call him DB for short.

So GG wasn’t in the greatest of spots to try to win me over. But I had a good buzz going so I thought, okay, I’ll talk to this guy for a while. As we’re chatting, my friend and famous blogger, makes the observation that he looks like Bruce Willis. He kind of did! So I’m talking to Mr. Willis and we’re having a pretty good chat for me being slightly intoxicated. We exchange numbers and he promises to text me the next day. I mentally told myself that I wouldn’t hold my breath.

But lo and behold, I get a nice text the next day saying he hoped that we all got home safely and that he’d like to take me to dinner sometime. Cool. Says he’ll call me later. Again, I figure that’s his code for blowing me off and I would just continue with my regularly scheduled program of doing my own thing. I’ll be damned if he didn’t call. I had been on Facebook posting pictures of the cruise I had just taken, being careful not to include any with douche bag and being reminded of every lie he told me on that trip. I hate when people ask me about that trip. The best answer I can come up with is “it’s almost as if it never happened.” It’s the most truth I can give without throwing him under the bus although I’m not sure why I care about protecting him.

Oh yeah, that’s right. We’re talking about GG.

Anyway, my conversation with GG was a little short because I think he could sense that I was distracted. So he says he’ll call me on Wednesday. In the meantime, I noticed that he’s not an over texter…a great relief. I honestly wasn’t giving this guy much thought. Going through the emotions of the break-up I had just encountered seemed to be taking up most of my time. I think I would have been annoyed getting all sorts of texts throughout the day. On Wednesday, true to form, he calls. We make plans to go out that Friday. I wish I could say I was excited. But I felt nothing. And sadly, I knew going in that it wasn’t going to go anywhere. But as my friend told me, “go and let someone be nice to you…you need that right now.” She was right. So when Friday rolled around and all I wanted to do was sleep, I mustered the energy to meet GG in Old Town Scottsdale.

He picked a nice place – I was impressed. We meet there and get into the parking lot at practically the same time. When I get out of my car, I noticed he’s changing his shoes. He apologizes and says that if he had his way, he’d never wear shoes. Not a good start. I have never been a barefoot walker. I love my precious (and I do mean precious…I could be a foot model) feet and the thought of anything making them look or feel anything but uncomfortable in a cute pair of shoes is a no-no. J The only exception to that rule is playing volleyball in the sand. I’ll take the scratched up pedi for the love of the game. No worries. I can always put another clear coat on later.

But I digress.

So as GG is changing his shoes and explaining how he picked the place, I notice something I had not before. Was that a lisp? Wait for it…yep. Indeed. Subtle. But I come from a family that can immediately zero in on any person’s quirk and then imitate it. Seriously. It’s a wonder that I have any self-esteem at all with the way my brother makes fun of me. But I can’t help it. It’s been a way of life so long that even taking a short glimpse into my future, my very first thought is no way he could ever meet my brother. Sad.

Then, as we’re walking to go in the restaurant, I notice something else. Was he that short last week? I mean, he did just put his shoes ON, right? Ok, so here it goes. I find that I give my heart pretty openly, and once I’m committed to someone, I can overlook all of their quirks. But if I had my druthers, I would never date anyone who wasn’t 3-4 inches taller than me…in heels. There is something extremely comforting about my head landing in a man’s chest when he hugs me. If a guy is my height or shorter, I inevitably feel like I’m bear hugging him. No joke. Ugh. I want to go home.

But I stick it out. So we sit. I’m going to make the best of this date dammit. So I put on the best smile I can and we begin to chat. As we do, I get a nice little waft of something. Mmmm. That smells so good. Where do I know that smell? I believe I stopped talking mid-sentence. Same cologne as DB. #$%@#%$#%@#$%$#%@#%#$. So much for taking my mind off of him. Focus, Belinda. You can do this. So I push away all of the images that scent is bringing back from the cruise ship where I was told so many lies. “It’s almost as if it didn’t happen….” I kept telling myself.

So our server makes her appearance, hands us our menus and introduces herself to us. Yeah. Same name of DB’s ex who I’m sure he went back to after me…again. It was the piece of information I had been crying about a week earlier in my pirate gear. Mother f**ker. Am I not supposed to have a nice night out?!?!

I excuse myself for the restroom. It’s a little early in the date to be making a bathroom break. I hadn’t even sipped my water yet. But I had to brush off the crap that was lingering in my thoughts. After a few deep breaths and a quick little tissue fix from where my eyes had begun to tear, I hold my head up and go back out to Mr. Shorty, Lispy Willis, aka GG.

I give him my best effort. He tells me about his hiking trips, his outdoorsy adventures, how he is practically tied at the hip to his dog, how he’s in construction, how he’s kind of a loner, how he had never been ready for anything serious before, but he knew exactly what he wanted now, etc. Mind you, he wasn’t saying these things as if I were the person he wanted to be with (unlike DB). He was talking in general. One of my beliefs is that I don’t want to be with someone who needs me for them to be happy. I want someone who is happy in and of themselves and WANTS to share that with me. GG said something very similar. So here he is. A good guy who knows exactly what he wants. And I couldn’t be any less interested.

I begin telling him a little about me. The crazy costume/flash mob that I did on the cruise with my friends, my love of adventure, my extroverted personality and my princess-y nature (if you know me, you know that I spend a lot of time working out…in a gym. I am not really a hiker or a camper or anything involving the outdoors unless it’s sunbathing or a group sport of some kind).

Oh, so one more thing. When I met him, I asked him his sign. I know, I know. It’s cliche. But I’m big on astrology and believe there are right and wrong matches. My past 2 failed relationships were a huge testament as to why you should not defy astrology. So when he tells me he’s a Virgo, I’m kind of put off. My dad is a Virgo. Even though we get along just fine, every single Virgo man I have ever met (even in my own family) has been cheap. Hmm. Maybe I should say stingy. You’re not going to get these guys to part with their money very easily. They may save up and get something they really want, and it will be very nice, guaranteed. But that is a rare occurrence. I’m in no way a gold-digger. But it sure would be nice to meet someone who wouldn’t mind taking the reins in the financial dept. for once.

So, we converse fairly well through dinner. He picks up the check (waves my wallet away when I begin to open it). I think, well, perhaps I’m wrong about him. Or perhaps it’s a first date and he’s got his best foot forward. As we walk out of the restaurant, I see him remove $5 from the tab, on the sly. Really dude? But, again, another example of why I trust astrology.

He’s not really sure what to do next, so he suggests we walk around Old Town until we find something suitable. I’m wearing fairly comfortable shoes, so I agree. After 3 blocks, we end up across the short street from where we had dinner and choose to sit in the balcony of a restaurant. Neither of us order a drink, except for some water. I had half a mojito at dinner and decided that I needed to be ready to drive because this date was going nowhere.

As he’s talking about a construction job, I zone out. I don’t mind him talking about work, but it seemed that he never did a single interesting thing in his life. I know this because I asked him what was the most interesting thing he had ever done. By the way, he repelled 800 ft. Pretty cool, I do admit, but he had done this 2 weekends before. Seriously? Your most interesting moment JUST happened? Oh and by the way, that repel was paired with an overnight camping trip. I stifled a yawn.

When I tell him I have to get going, he asks if we can do this again. I said GG, thank you for a great evening. I don’t want to impede your search. You sound like you know exactly what you want, but we are too different. Go find your girl. I’m not her. He looked visibly pissed, but I felt there was no sense in wasting any more of our time. After I had to explain why we wouldn’t work (seriously, you can’t see the differences??), he walked me to my car. I was clutching on to my purse and I walked by him and said “Thanks!” and got in. I have to admit, it might have been a little humiliating for him had anyone been watching. But I never felt the urge to touch him or be next to him, let alone kiss him good night.

So I drove home, singing ‘brokenhearted girl’ songs , wishing GG all the best and telling myself that I will not go on another date until I could give it my best. It’s just not fair to anyone to be hung up on someone else while trying to make something new happen. That last statement was written strategically for me and a little someone I call DB.