Where is the Love
I’m gonna switch gears tonight from religious holy wars and to the topic of online dating. It’s my blog–I can do what I want.
I make no secret of the fact that I’m just no good at dating (see here for a brief synopsis of my dating history). At the urging of a friend, I set up a profile on a free matchmaking website and watched as the matches came pouring in. The funny thing about meeting people online is that you come up with very simple descriptors for each guy based on the things they show in their profile thus reducing these dudes down to the most basic identities. The Doctor, The Messianic Jew, The Muppet Guy, or my personal favorite:The Meat-Cleaver-Wielding Psychopath (oh how I wish I was making this stuff up). Things started off a little rocky when I received a frightening message from a guy who thinks a good way to pick up a girl is to list in great detail all of the things you’d like to do
with to her. Yikes! Lucky for me, I found the “block user” and plugged that leak right away!
But after settling into the groove, I ended up in conversation with a few pretty reasonable fellas. One turned out to be a flake who now keeps emailing me asking to meet him “please.” Sorry, guy, “please” doesn’t look good on a man.
Another guy seems really nice, yet he’s quite content to just email. Losing interest because I’m not really looking for a pen pal, ya know? Not everybody’s a writer, so yeah, I’m getting bored. Come on, Doc, pull the trigger already!
Which leads me to the one who actually made it into my 3-dimensional world. I can only count on one hand how many dates I’ve been on, so when I say this was my most successful date, that isn’t saying much (as long as he didn’t threaten to abandon me alone in the bronx and cost me $150, he had it in the bag). But still. The guy was an ABSOLUTE gentleman: opening all doors, not sitting until I did, and paying for everything. Even making sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk! And did I mention he was cute? Adorable! After dinner, he suggested a walk around the west village where we broke the rules of first date conversation discussing religion and politics (and if you know me at all, you know that’s my kind of guy). As we walked, we stopped and he bought me ice cream. All I know about guy logic was indicating he was at least moderately interested, right? I mean, he could have cut and run after dinner (that’s what I do when I’m not enjoying a date–just ask that passionless tax accountant from last year). We discussed the possibility of him coming to see me perform later that week, hugged and parted ways. I sent him the show info, and as it turns out he couldn’t make it, but asked when my next one was. No big concern, so I sent him the info on the next show. And it’s been radio silence ever since.
What’s the statute of limitations on first date follow up these days? All I know about dating etiquette I learned from Swingers, and Vince Vaughn thinks 3 days is kind of money, baby. It’s been almost a week. Spare me the placating–he’s got a blackberry, so I know he gets email as rapidly as I do. Say it with me everybody “he’s just not that into me.” So I guess I also take dating cues from Drew Barrymore movies.
I’m thankful at least that my successful date cancelled out the world’s worst date of the Red Sox v Yankees game of 2009, but I think I might cool it on the online dating for a minute*. This whole dating thing bums me out a little. If you need me, I’ll be hanging out at the convent.
*exceptions will be made for the doctor**
**Just kidding, I’m not that shallow***
***Ok, maybe that’s not true