Fibber McGee's

Going back and forth between the idea of dating again I decided to make a few attempts on EHarmony.com which resulted in the typical lame responses.  At first there were a few fish biting.  That narrowed down to a few I deemed adequate enough to continue communicating with and eventually I gave my number out to three men.

Bachelor #1: Sent a couple brief texts and arranged to meet at Kona Grill.  I got a cold and asked to reschedule.  Never heard from him again.

Bachelor #2:  Sent a couple texts that were closed ended.  That went no where.

Bachelor #3:  Sent more interesting texts and CALLED (novel idea, right?).  We had a three hour phone conversation about books, work, what we are looking for in dating, animals.  It was fun.  Even though I wasn't exactly tingling, I felt like I could do this again.

We continued to text a little and he called again the following weekend.  Another long conversation where we started to open up more about past relationships and politics, work ethic.  The getting to know you crap I normally despise wasn't so terrible.  A couple days later we had another long call, talked about my dad and his dad's illness.  Maybe I have finally met a normal human being!

Bachelor #3 invited me to have a drink at Fibber McGee's on a week night.  I wasn't stressed or worried, I was just going to be myself and see where this goes.  Running late getting home from work I texted him I would meet him around 8pm.  I showered, did my hair and dressed casual nice.  No butterflies.  Maybe I'm maturing!

Maybe I have a sixth sense....

Bachelor #3 is decent looking guy.  Taller than me.  Big green eyes.  We had a beer and made small talk.  I was a little awkward at first but managed to loosen up.  I can't really pinpoint the moment it got weird, but weird it most certainly got.  He began to lose control of the conversation, or his ability to focus on it.  He started to complain about his job as a manager at a pizza chain because obviously he made so much less money than when he was a professional poker player and certainly a lot less than what I make.  I tried to reign it back in...

He got up to go the bathroom after we ordered a second round and knocked into a chair.  Maybe he's just clumsy?  I walk into stuff all the time...  When he came back it was pretty obvious he was a couple drinks ahead of me.  I asked if we could go outside to smoke, this was starting to stress me out.  He could barely walk out the door and propped himself against a wall.  He starts asking if he can kiss me.  No.  No.  Fuck NO.  He's slurring his words, eyes rolling around in his head.  For the love of God, how much has this guy been drinking?  He moves to grab his beer off the table and nearly falls over on it.

I direct him to a chair as he's chanting "You hate me, I can't believe this.."  I asked how many he's had and he attempts to tell me its only 4-5 including the beers he's had with me.  False.  He's a tall guy and I don't get this freaking sloppy when I overindulge.  He tries the kissing thing again and I want to smack him.  People are looking in our direction.  I take a sip of my beer and declare that we need to close out and I'll drive him home. (I am too nice, and or stupid, for my own good.)  With a sigh, Bachelor # 3 starts to pour the rest of his beer into my beer but spills it all over my lap instead.

He stumbles to the bar while I try to keep a straight face.  I just want to get rid of this guy and go home.  I let him pay the tab, not feeling one little bit like I should pitch in at all.  He sways out the door, walks like a sailor all the way to my car and nearly falls on his face missing the door handle.  Then he proceeds giving me crap directions to his home, like I'm going drastically change lanes when I am soaked in beer.

At his townhouse, he tries to convince me to "just come in side."  I explained during our phone calls that I'm not looking to get my sex on with just anyone.  Why the hell would I go into a drunk stranger's abode?  He pleads that I should at least come to the door to meet his dog.  I am a sucker for dogs.  I left my car running, told him I would say hello and then I needed to go home.  The big dog starts barking excitedly inside while Bachelor #3 takes an eternity to figure out which key on his key ring is most likely to gain entrance to his home.  The door is opened a year later, the dog surges forward and proceeds to pee.

Urine is splashing ff the tile, all over my leg and shoe.  Poor beast continues to pee nervously in a circle.  The only time a large dog does this:  They haven't been let out in a really long time.  He looks so ashamed I call him outside for petting because it isn't his fault, it's the fault of his asshole owner.  The dog bounces off to pee more, Bachelor #3 is swaying and making more excuses.  The dog runs into the street where headlights are approaching.  I scream, calling him back.  Bachelor #3 says the dog is fine, he knows the area....  I'm so sick for the beast, he's dirty, hasn't been out all day from the looks of it and his alcoholic owner doesn't care if he gets hit by a car.  Wow.  I sure can pick 'em.

As I was driving home I didn't know if I should laugh or cry.  So I announced out loud "I just got peed on." and bust out cackling.  This was hands down the WORST date I have ever been on.

I stopped at a gas station and opened up to the female cashier.

Me: "I just have to share this with someone right now.  I went on a first date tonight.  The guy ended up getting drunk, spilled beer in my lap.  Then, I had to drive him home where his dog peed all over me."

Her eyes popped out and her jaw dropped.  I could see she was furiously trying to come up with a response.  I shrugged and headed to the door.

"You deserve better than that!" she called after me.

"God, I hope so!"

This story, however, was lot's of entertainment the following day at work.

My kind-of attempts to get into dating....

I've reached a funny stalemate with myself about dating.  The truth is, I would very much like to meet a guy, go out, get to know him, share my thoughts, laugh, joke, cuddle, be romantic, and all that shit.  The problem is that from what I hear and see of other people's relationships dating is just a farce.  Lie about how easy going you are.  Pretend to be OK with the other person's emotional distance.  Set aside pieces of yourself so things go more smoothly.  Do this until you get married and then it's open season on how unaccommodating you want to be or accept it and lose those little pieces for ever.

It seems like a lot of bullshit to go through just for some semi-regular sex and the right to post kissy pics on FB.

With that in mind, my Internet dating is a little wah-wah-wahhhh..... Very few prospects and all the answers make me bored.  Plus, the majority of my matches are short.  I was very clear in my settings that I didn't want to date someone under 5'9" (because I'm 5'6" and sometimes like to wear heels that make me 5'10" and anyone under the approved height minimum would make me look like a freaking Amazon.)  They need to make a new website called NapoleonComplexSingles.com where all the short people can go to pretend to find love.

I've been texted by 3 of the guys I went through the communication process with and they are all inept in some way.  One just wants to meet up and I've forgotten everything I've learned about him already.  Two goes with the closed ended statements about himself.  How am supposed to respond to that Two?  Say how awesome your statement is just to keep up this disappointing illusion of a conversation?  Not gonna happen.  Three is hit or miss and has already used the word kinky.  All 3 chose to text rather than call.

Needless to say I have been on zero dates.

This doesn't upset me, just makes me less enthusiastic about even trying to date.  Sure, I want all the mushy crap and sex but I want that to be a accompanied by a brain and some genuine interest thrown my way.  So, I'm not going to sweat it.  I will continue to go about my business and wait for an opportunity to jump a stranger.  (With that comment I expect a call from Chloe "seeing how things are going")