Oh, C... I will see your "bad" first date, and raise you a "truly awful and masochistic experience of fundamentally soul-crushing proportions" (mine as much as his). With all due respect to your post's title, as my life coach Tina Fey writes in Bossypants, "'Oh, it's like that motherfucker?'"
Gather 'round, kiddies, and let Auntie N regale you with tales of self-inflicted torment. Dating: a truly magical experience.
This particular bachelor, who we'll call "HoneyBadger1243." Why? 'Cause HoneyBadger don't give a shit... about how he is actually supposed to treat someone he intends to see more than once. Or at least me. I'm not really the "hit it and quit it" type.
I met HoneyBadger1243 through everyone's favorite free online dating site. There was the usual exchange of e-mails meant to assess whether or not the other would be worthwhile meeting in reality. Once it was established neither of us experienced psychotic episodes on a daily basis, HB asked for my number and said he would contact me after the weekend. I was so game.
That Monday, I awaited his call all day. Nothing, nada, zip, zilch, squat, etc. Then, at 10:30 that night, when I'm running down my nightly list of "To Read" blogs and websites, he texts me. To be very clear on this point: never, ever, EVER text to initially set up your rendezvous. It's just tacky and frankly makes you look like a coward. So we're on shaky ground already, when he asks "Oh... did you want me to pick you up?" Call me old-fashioned, but the sincere offer to do so is appreciated and courteous. Be a gentleman, not a douchebag, guys. I brush it off. Not everyone was raised with the same etiquette as myself, and it would be a long way to go back across town when he lived between me and our chosen date spot to begin with. The hiccup is settled by deciding to have me meet at his house, and he will drive from that point forward.
Everything is established for Saturday night. Although, I begin having more doubts about my would-be suitor as the week progresses. Communicating through the ambiguity of text would have been difficult had he had something witty, sarcastic, or even mildly flirtatious, to say. Exchanging humorous banter with the possibility of miscommunication was not a problem. With complete sincerity he directed me to a comedienne he claimed was "hilarious!" and "so good I just recorded her whole show on Comedy Central." Wanting to discover if said act was worthwhile, I checked her out. If you think wildly uncomfortable, crude, and unsettling humor is funny, this gal is for you, friends. Don't get me wrong, I love a good round of pussy/penis/fart/poop jokes as much as anyone, but... This was just sad. Painful and sad. I felt bad for this woman, rather than being amused. Confidence in this guy's chemistry with me? Mmm, less than inspired at this point.
Some of you may ask "Why are you even still going out with this guy if you feel this way?" Good question, One Reader. Well, I did something you should never do: force yourself out there because you feel obligated in some manner. For various reasons, I was feeling like "getting back on the horse" meant "go out with people you may feel complete disinterest in." In my effort to be open-minded, I started smoking the unabated-optimism-and-ignoring-my-better-judgement crack pipe. It was some good shit. And I strongly suggest you never, ever take a hit. Follow that instinct of yours! If it says "run like hell" you RUN. LIKE. HELL. Don't force yourself to go out there just because you feel you "must" due to some warped sense of responsibility. Yet, there I was wondering how much worse could this guy get? Surely he was more engaging in person.
I had my answer soon enough. Saturday came and I met up with some friends before HoneyBadger and I were slated head to a theater in the park date. HoneyBadger finally, FINALLY, calls me during the BBQ! Only took 'til the night of the date for that one.
"Do you have a sleeping bag?"
Concern. Confusion. Slight panic. "...N-no...?"
"You know, for sitting on the ground in the park. No? Well, never mind, I'm right by my aunt's and she's got one anyway. But you should bring some pillows." Oh good, he didn't want to sleep at my house or something. Seriously, I wasn't putting anything past this guy.
"Uhm, ok. I can do that, I guess."
"Ok, thanks, see you soon!"
"Yeah, bye?"
Yes, he was actually just being THAT lazy. He didn't want to stop on his way home to pick up the materials for the date he asked me on. Not much later, I left the BBQ to make myself presentable for what I had a sneaking suspicion would be a trainwreck of an evening. The ol' "get back in the game" mentality was prevailing.
But -- oh wait! What's this? We're back to texting because HoneyBadger1243 can't communicate like an actual adult? Color me surprised!
"You wouldn't, like, need to eat something would you?" (Yes. My date just asked me if I needed to have dinner during the evening Theater in the Park performance he chose.)
"Well, seeing as and it's just after lunchtime now, and I probably won't have time to eat after going home to clean up, we can share a little something?"
"Maybe you can come by earlier and we can swing by Trader Joe's together?"
"I can try, but I'm not sure I can push our date too much earlier."
After wrestling with my closet and working out something suitable, doing my hair, make up, and all the other shit that ladies take time and effort for, I realize I'm not going to make it in time for Trader Joe's. I let HoneyBadger1243 know.
"If you wanted to go without me, I'm sure that would be fine. I'm so sorry for running late!"
"Thanks for letting me know! I'll see what I can do."
A pause from him. Then, "I can get some really good cheese pizza from the place at the end of my block. Oh, and can you bring a bottle of wine?"
Cheese pizza in the park? Not the best date food. I could foresee a melty pile of cheese goo being unintentionally slopped into my lap. As nice as the offer was, it just presented far more problems than it solved.
"Uhm, I think I'm good with just the water I'm bringing and some wine."
"Oh, sure. Cool."
The drive went by fast, even though I was regretting my decision to go through with this date the entire way over. The phrase "benefit of the doubt" was my new mantra.
I parked and called HoneyBadger from in front of his complex. To him, the phrase "be right down" is interchangeable with "let me leave you waiting outside for five to 10 minutes." When he finally did come down, I was able to give him a thorough once over. This gentleman decided dressing to impress would be too cliche, and instead opted for a pair of ratty khaki cargo shorts and a faded blue polo. I'm so glad I put in the effort for you, sir.
"Wow, you look nice!" Thanks. I know. Because I tried.
We took off for his office, which is right near the park. Unfortunately, he didn't check to see if there were any events using his lot, which, of course, was the case. The parking attendant, a stern looking Latino gentleman at least two times this kid's age, met us and laid down the law. HB could not park at this complex unless he paid $10 and was out by midnight. And we were now officially late for our show.
This was the moment he lost me. Right here at the entrance of the parking garage. HB was completely indignant and pissy to the point he started spouting off at the attendant about how he's an employee, they can't treat him this way, this is outrageous, "you must let me in, here's my badge!" Other attendants started coming over to calm him down. I am not only pissed off for his treatment of the attendant, but personally mortified that I am now forever associated with him in this guy's mind.
I wholeheartedly subscribe to the adage that "a person who is nice to you, but is not nice to the waiter is not a nice person." We were done. I had mentally checked out at this point. Now how to extricate myself without causing an even bigger scene? (By the by, just make that fucking scene, people! It's not nearly as bad as staying on the Date from Hell!) Guess who stayed? Yep. Granted, this decision was partially propelled by the masochistic urge to see exactly how much WORSE things could get, but I still desperately needed to devise an escape plan. FAST.
After switching parking complexes and persuading another attendant to let us park for the requisite $10, we bolted for the park. Not only were we incredibly late, but also every available space seemed to have been taken. HB and I ended up all the way in the back, unable to see. I immediately lunged for my wine.
Then HB decided that this was the perfect time to deploy his First Date Conversation Arsenal. These topics included (but were not limited to) depressing family history, traumatic loss of close friendships over the last year, and... the dreaded exes. Yes, he brought up the ex conversation on the first date. More wine was mandatory.
Around 10:00 PM, having exhausted all uncomfortable topics of conversation, HB decides to ask me if we should leave, not being able to see the performance as it was. It was all I could do not to scream "YES!!" in his face.
Afterward, back at my car -- no, he never offered to grab dinner somewhere with me -- we said our good nights. I admit I was at fault for not just shutting him down verbally right then. I'm terrible at that. I want too badly to be nice to people. I honestly believe he's a very sweet person that is just completely clueless. However, I regretted these sympathetic feelings when I had to shut him down on the good night kiss. Not once... Nooooot twice... BUT THREE SOLID TIMES. THREE. Two more than should ever be necessary for anyone to get the hint.
Then, he was gone. I was relieved. There may have been a happy dance.
Oh thank God it was over! It was done! He got the cheek three times. How could anyone think things were going well after that? I was never going to hear from him again and I was elated.
...Or so I thought. HB was a persistent little bugger; persistent and hopelessly unable to read the signs. He texted me the next day (again with the texting!) to ask if he could see me again. This time I decided the kindest way to let him down was to not respond, rather than say something unkind. I didn't want to hurt him unnecessarily, but I also just... wanted the situation to go away. There was the High Road and there was the Chickenshit Road. I took the latter.
This didn't phase my suitor. He followed up his text a day later with the following email:
"Hey N,It was a very sweet and sincere email, but I just could not imagine going through a similar date experience again with this person. There was just absolutely no attraction on my end. I decided I needed to close the book on this and just let him down as easy as I could. I hit "Reply" that night after careful editing and consideration. I mean, he said right there that he would understand if I didn't want to go out again. He would totally get how I felt, right?
Hope you a had a good rest of the weekend. I had texted you to see if you wanted to hang out again, but haven't heard back from you yet...so not sure if you're still interested in going out again. I think you are smart, funny and gorgeous and would really love to go out with you again and have a hassle-free date this time. You probably saw me at my most stressed. I really had been looking forward to meeting you all week and wanted to plan something that was going to be fun....so when things started to get hectic, I think I got more stressed out than normal and let the circumstances affect me the rest of the night b/c I was just disappointed that I couldn't show you a better time.
I completely understand if you didn't feel a connection with me or just don't want to go out again. I guess I just want to let you know that I think you are a great girl and how happy I would be to get another chance to go out with you and start fresh. No parks, I promise ... HB"
"Hi HB,
I apologize for just now getting back to you. It's been a couple of very long days for me. I really appreciate you taking the time and effort to pull together what you thought sounded like a really fantastic date. I definitely don't hold any of what happened, in terms of unforeseen circumstances and stressors, against you. Things just happen. If anyone can understand that sentiment, it's me.
You are an incredibly generous person and I did enjoy your conversation. However, I think that maybe we are not the best-suited match romantically speaking. I feel truly horrid if I have led you on. I do think you're a great person and I sincerely wish you all the best. I hope you understand.
Regards,
N"
I felt good about that message. We were not suited for each other, I did feel terrible, and I openly asked him to move on. Imagine my surprise when I found the next message in my Inbox two full days later.
"So there's no way I could persuade you to come with me to the Hollywood Bowl on Sunday night :)"Did... Did he just try to bribe me? With a date? And after I stated I was not a match romantically, and uninterested in pursuing things further? Yep. Yep, he did. What kind of horrible person accepts a date as a bribe?! "I was so not feeling things before, but now that you're paying...!"
Enough was enough. He needed a swift response that said I was not playing around.
"I don't think that is even remotely a good idea. Nor should you want to go out with the kind of person who is otherwise uninterested, but would still accept your offer."He was, let's say, less than thrilled.
"Alright then. Didn't realize you were 150% uninterested...thanks for the life lesson though."And that was that. Done. I had ripped the band aid off the scabbed-over wound that was my Saturday night date. Praise to the sweet baby Jesus! Hallelujah!
Now, I'm not saying you must provide the things this date lacked on every occasion. Simply remember that it's about context. If HB had suggested the pizza after we discussed the best pies we had ever eaten in L.A., I would have reacted differently. At the very least, if you're asking someone out, make sure they know they're special; not just another way to pass your evening (with the potential of getting laid). If you think they're worth more than five minutes of your day, show them. I don't know about y'all, but time is my most precious gift. And I am not wasting such a valuable resource on people who don't deserve it. Words are great, actions are better. Also, for the love of God, please don't overreact when things start going screwy, just flow with it. Your date will appreciate your ability to figure things out when events start going awry. Besides, it's more about the person than the actual events of the date anyway.
Always treat others with respect - end of story. Whether it's your date, your waiter, or the guy who stepped on your toe in line at the grocery store, your deeds in front of your potential boyfriend or girlfriend are noticed. We can't help judging based on how we see others being treated, as unfair as it sounds. It's human nature.
Finally, take a Goddamn hint from us ladies. Please.
Now what have I learned about myself? Not to force myself to go through with something my better judgement dictates I should not. To follow my instinct when the occasion calls for it. I will never again suffer through an agonizing experience like that, regardless of how good a tale it makes later.
You know, HB told me he dated his ex for a year and a half. A YEAR AND A HALF! My first thought was "oh God that poor woman! How did she put up with this for so long?" Then, I realized I was sitting there doing the exact same thing. That I had done the exact same thing in so many situations and relationships past, and for far too long. "Just ok" is not good enough. You deserve better than "good enough." You deserve someone who makes you happy and doesn't just shill out the bare minimum of their effort to keep you around. Believe me when I say that being dealt that little and convincing yourself it's totally fine will only make you miserable. If someone can't bother to take the time to learn what makes you tick or express any shred of common decency, don't spend more than two minutes with them, let alone a year or more.
It's not about A person, it's about THE RIGHT person.
Also, don't chase after someone who clearly doesn't want anything to do with you, it's wasting the time you could be spending with someone far better. Even "4% uninterested" qualifies as "uninterested." Find the person that is 100% -- 1,000%! 10,000%!-- interested.
When you have that right person, horrible incidents and stressful dates don't matter, because you know that even if your evening plans are sinking faster than a turd in a toilet bowl, at least you two can laugh about it later.
- N
[UPDATE 11/06/12] A new IM sent at approximately 4:30 PM
HoneyBadger1243: Hey Rachel, how have ya been?
Need I say more?
No comments:
Post a Comment