1) Freshman year of college, a cute but short guy on the cross country team takes a shine to me and asks me out on a date. He takes me to a nice restaurant, which is already a step up from the dining hall and things go pretty well until he starts telling me that he likes to make stuff. Like furniture. Like his bed. Apparently he made his bed, the frame, headboard, everything. Then he asks me as we're leaving the restaurant if I wanted to go to his house so I could "see his bed." I was immediately sketched out and told him maybe next time and asked him if he could just take me back to my dorm and never went out with him again. I seriously couldn't tell if that was a line or if he thought he could innocently ask a girl on a first date if she wanted to see his bed. It still kind of creeps me out.
2) Junior year of college, I'm dating a guy who recently graduated and is friends with a bunch of my friends. He is really sweet and treats me well, which of course means I decide after 2 months that I want nothing to do with him. But before I make that clever decision, and stop seeing him so I can continue my pursuit of jerks and losers, he and his roommate decide to take me and a girl his roommate wants to get with out to dinner. He picks me up and we arrive at the restaurant on time. Roommate and roommate's date are nowhere to be found. So we wait and wait and eventually they show up... hammered. They had gone to some art show and gotten completely wasted and then show up at this nice quiet restaurant where they proceed to giggle and talk too loudly and harass the waitress. At one point, the roommate spills the better part of a large glass of red wine all over the table. Thankfully, my date is lovely and handles the situation beautifully, but it was quite the scene.
3) I moved to DC and didn't really meet people for the first... three years I lived here. I had work friends and a handful of non-work friends, but not a good, solid group of friends. So I was bored. A lot. I meet this guy at a bar when one of my roommates from college is in town visiting with her husband. I actually think his friend is really cute and that he is meh. But I'm drunk and I give meh guy my number anyway after acting all sassy and ridiculous and figuring out that the cute one had a girlfriend (natch). We end up dating for a few months, but again, this is primarily out of boredom. He was an ok guy most of the time, but this one night...
He went to school in DC and a lot of his college buddies still lived here. I met most of his friends almost right off the bat, but there was this one friend of his from college that it took me a while to meet. The friend from college had recently gotten engaged after moving in with his girlfriend/fiance. He talked this guy up so much, he's so funny, he's a little rough around the edges but a great guy, blah blah blah. So dude invites the friend from college, the fiance and me over to his apartment for pre-going out drinks so we can meet. I walk in the door, and pretty much the first thing out of the fiance's mouth is: you are not invited to our wedding. Awesome, I'm thinking, because I have no intention of still being with this guy by the time your shitty wedding rolls around, but nice to meet you too. Then, as we're sitting and drinking, the college friend starts in on me because I'm a big fan of my college's illustrious sports team. At the time, we were one of the best teams in the country and the season was coming to a close. Our best player was a household name, if the household followed this particular sport. So the college friend starts asking me why I like this sport and team so much and is it because I'm in love with the star player. He's being pretty belligerent. I say of course not and try to explain why I love the sport/team. Then the college friend asks me if its because I want to fuck the star player. As this is happening, the dude I'm dating is just sitting across the room cracking up like this is the funniest shit he's ever heard while I am trying to be gracious when all I want to do is to tell this asshole to go fuck himself. My guy never picks up on the fact that I am furious and his friend is not hilarious and that was kind of the final nail in the coffin.
Oh! But, after I told the guy that I'm not happy in the relationship and I think we should break things off, he looks up the WORK email of a friend of mine that he had met a handful of times and asks her what he did wrong and how he can win me back. And this was pre-Facebook, so stalking of that sort was not really acceptable. Totally inappropriate! Dating sucks!
4) I get literally falling down drunk at Dan's Cafe with my same roommate from college - she used to live in DC too. We decide we want to dance, so we head over to the Angry Inch because they have music. That was our criteria I think. Does it have music? Yes! Let's go! When we get there, my college roommate runs into one of her coworkers - she worked at a Federal agency under Bush, so all of the political appointees there are Republicans. Again, since I am drunk, I am acting sassy and ridiculous, but I'm extra drunk so I am being extra sassy. We're all dancing, at one point, the coworker/Bush appointee decides to dip me and drops me on the floor (of the Angry Inch -ew!). After not too long, I realize I am moments away from disaster/ vomiting and my feet really hurt, so I tell my friend I'm leaving and stumble outside where I proceed to take off my shoes and attempt to stumble home barefoot. Its all kind of a blur, but the coworker/Bush appointee either had offered to walk me home or followed me outside. Either way, he ends up giving me a piggy back ride home to my place, two blocks away. We make out a little and blessedly he leaves. I spend the rest of the weekend in a hungover stupor and hope I didn't make too big of an ass out of myself.
The next week, my friend emails me at work to let me know her coworker really liked me and wants my number. I am dumbfounded but agree because why not? She gives me a little briefing on him before we go out, because Bush appointee dudes aren't really my type. Turns out his dad was a state legislator and chairman of the Republican party in the state where he grew up. He now is high up at some other federal agency. So, armed with this knowledge that I'm not just going out with any old Bush appointee, but the prince of the Republican party, I meet the dude for the date. Its a little awkward, as all first dates are, especially when you can't really remember what the guy looked like because when you met him, you had one too many Jack and Cokes and are twenty minutes away from booting. We're talking about the usual stuff, where we're from, where we went to school, how we ended up in DC, etc. So I ask the guy what it was like to grow up in such a political house. He snaps, "my house wasn't political at all." Which I find very surprising. Because c'mon dude, your dad ran for and won elections. But that was the fatal blow to this budding romance. The mood of the date, which wasn't that great to begin with, completely soured. Its all for the best though because it would have been pretty hard to stay my charming, drunk on whiskey self for an entire relationship.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
This. Is. Getting. Old.
Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if I'm cursed. Last week I met this guy at a bar...a friend of a friend and also, randomly a sort of second-degree work contact. Anyway, he was really sweet and modest, not to mention tall, dark, and handsome with a great smile. (And, let's be honest, tall is important if I ever decide to have children since according to my last physical I'm 4' 11 1/2"). The next day I bit the bullet and, after an hour of my finger hovering above the "send" button, I sent him a Facebook message asking if he wanted to get drinks. He immediately responds and says, "Sure! How's Monday? You pick the place." Yessssssss!!! So I respond, giddy with happiness, with "Monday's great! Churchkey? 6:30/7ish?" To which he responds...silence.
That was Thursday, now it's Monday. And of course I've spent far too much time thinking about which shirt will show just enough cleavage and which shoes are just the right amount of sexy for work and drinks...and still I haven't heard a word confirming our plans. I spend the first 5 hours of the day asking various co-workers what to do, and finally email him to ask if we're still on for tonight. He immediately writes back to say "Oh, sorry, I didn't see your response so I made plans with another friend...and I'm swamped at work this week...maybe we can reschedule next week? First round's on me!"
Here's what my reaction SHOULD be: "Seriously, dude? A hot girl asks you out and you blow her off? I do not want to date a flake like you."
Here's what my ACTUAL reaction was: "I actually worked up the nerve to ask a guy out who I found attractive and THIS is the outcome??? I'm becoming a nun or a lesbian."
Between going on far too many dates with a Nazi (more on that soon, I promise), and shit like this, I honestly don't know what I'm doing wrong. Do I just have really horrible luck or am I choosing the wrong people?
Please feel free to share your dating stories...or just vent. I'd love to feel like I'm not alone here.
That was Thursday, now it's Monday. And of course I've spent far too much time thinking about which shirt will show just enough cleavage and which shoes are just the right amount of sexy for work and drinks...and still I haven't heard a word confirming our plans. I spend the first 5 hours of the day asking various co-workers what to do, and finally email him to ask if we're still on for tonight. He immediately writes back to say "Oh, sorry, I didn't see your response so I made plans with another friend...and I'm swamped at work this week...maybe we can reschedule next week? First round's on me!"
Here's what my reaction SHOULD be: "Seriously, dude? A hot girl asks you out and you blow her off? I do not want to date a flake like you."
Here's what my ACTUAL reaction was: "I actually worked up the nerve to ask a guy out who I found attractive and THIS is the outcome??? I'm becoming a nun or a lesbian."
Between going on far too many dates with a Nazi (more on that soon, I promise), and shit like this, I honestly don't know what I'm doing wrong. Do I just have really horrible luck or am I choosing the wrong people?
Please feel free to share your dating stories...or just vent. I'd love to feel like I'm not alone here.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
separate cabs
WTF. Dating sucks.
Okay, so I've been talking about starting this blog for a while; maybe I'm behind the times on this whole blog thing, but I find the need to share with the world (or whoever wants to listen) how much dating fucking sucks -- especially (?) in DC. Like many women in this town, I've gone out on a LOT of first dates, several second dates, a few third dates, maybe one or two 5th dates...and that's where it ends. Because...well, WTF??? I don't know, actually.
DATING SUCKS.
Tonight I had a somewhat sucky, but more just hilarious, end to a first date. This guy I met on OkCupid (a site which, if you haven't tried it is actually kind of fun...it doesn't take itself too seriously which is nice in the whole scheme of online dating sites) finally make plans to meet up for drinks. I'm walking to the bar from work, I see this guy in front of me who I think might be him...of course I'm checking him out (he looks sort of cute) and hoping he doesn't see me and turn it into this whole weird awkward meet-before-we-meet type meeting. Luckily he doesn't see me (or at least doesn't seem to) so we're off to a good start. When we finally get to the bar and meet I decide he's going to be a tool given his half unbuttoned shirt (complete with a dragon and some random stitching), the gelled hair and a liiiiiiitle too much cologne (i'm more of a dive bar girl). But.....my therapist says I should try to notice something good about each person I meet so I give him the benefit of the doubt.
We talk, have a few beers, the conversation starts to go better and better as we loosen up (especially when we talk about our shared semi-hatred of hipsters but love of hipster bars)...we order mussels, start laughing more...and I think, "Okay, okay, I could go out with him again." (To be clear: that's a pretty big deal. Huge, actually. I have very low standards at this point, given I've dated -- get ready -- a holocaust denier. Yes, you heard right. But that's a story for another time.)
It starts to get late, I can tell he's ready to go (and who are we kidding, so am I, I went to the fucking gym at 6am so I could feel good on this goddamn fucking date, and then I fucking worked all day.) So we leave the bar, we're standing on the corner deciding how we're both going to get home in that awkward "Does he want to see me again/Do I want to see him again" moment that happens when you're just not entirely sure. In a buzzed, nervous state, I say "I'm going to get in a cab" and as he gives me a hug I say, "Soooo are you going to get a separate one?"
Aaaahh! Wait! No!
The minute I said it I wanted to take it back. I didn't mean, "Do you want to come home with me?" Seriously. I meant, "Wouldn't it be cheaper for us to take separate cabs because I live in Dupont and you live in Columbia Heights? We should do this again." To be clear: if I was attracted to you, and despite (or maybe because of) the double standard for women, I would have no problem taking you home with me, thank you very much...but instead I said something that made him feel the need to respond, "Um, yeah, I think separate one. I had fun. I'll be in touch."
I wanted to scream, "no, wait, that's not what I meant!" But as I got in the cab, all I could do was laugh. Clearly, his response does not bode well for second date (which I wasn't sure if I wanted anyway), and seems only slightly less horrible than ending a date with a high-five (which my co-workers and I decided earlier today is part of a basic equation where a high five equals NO SEX). But why couldn't I be the one to let him down gently and say, "I had fun, but..." or (let's be honest, this is a more likely scenario) simply not call?
This is why dating sucks.
Okay, so I've been talking about starting this blog for a while; maybe I'm behind the times on this whole blog thing, but I find the need to share with the world (or whoever wants to listen) how much dating fucking sucks -- especially (?) in DC. Like many women in this town, I've gone out on a LOT of first dates, several second dates, a few third dates, maybe one or two 5th dates...and that's where it ends. Because...well, WTF??? I don't know, actually.
DATING SUCKS.
Tonight I had a somewhat sucky, but more just hilarious, end to a first date. This guy I met on OkCupid (a site which, if you haven't tried it is actually kind of fun...it doesn't take itself too seriously which is nice in the whole scheme of online dating sites) finally make plans to meet up for drinks. I'm walking to the bar from work, I see this guy in front of me who I think might be him...of course I'm checking him out (he looks sort of cute) and hoping he doesn't see me and turn it into this whole weird awkward meet-before-we-meet type meeting. Luckily he doesn't see me (or at least doesn't seem to) so we're off to a good start. When we finally get to the bar and meet I decide he's going to be a tool given his half unbuttoned shirt (complete with a dragon and some random stitching), the gelled hair and a liiiiiiitle too much cologne (i'm more of a dive bar girl). But.....my therapist says I should try to notice something good about each person I meet so I give him the benefit of the doubt.
We talk, have a few beers, the conversation starts to go better and better as we loosen up (especially when we talk about our shared semi-hatred of hipsters but love of hipster bars)...we order mussels, start laughing more...and I think, "Okay, okay, I could go out with him again." (To be clear: that's a pretty big deal. Huge, actually. I have very low standards at this point, given I've dated -- get ready -- a holocaust denier. Yes, you heard right. But that's a story for another time.)
It starts to get late, I can tell he's ready to go (and who are we kidding, so am I, I went to the fucking gym at 6am so I could feel good on this goddamn fucking date, and then I fucking worked all day.) So we leave the bar, we're standing on the corner deciding how we're both going to get home in that awkward "Does he want to see me again/Do I want to see him again" moment that happens when you're just not entirely sure. In a buzzed, nervous state, I say "I'm going to get in a cab" and as he gives me a hug I say, "Soooo are you going to get a separate one?"
Aaaahh! Wait! No!
The minute I said it I wanted to take it back. I didn't mean, "Do you want to come home with me?" Seriously. I meant, "Wouldn't it be cheaper for us to take separate cabs because I live in Dupont and you live in Columbia Heights? We should do this again." To be clear: if I was attracted to you, and despite (or maybe because of) the double standard for women, I would have no problem taking you home with me, thank you very much...but instead I said something that made him feel the need to respond, "Um, yeah, I think separate one. I had fun. I'll be in touch."
I wanted to scream, "no, wait, that's not what I meant!" But as I got in the cab, all I could do was laugh. Clearly, his response does not bode well for second date (which I wasn't sure if I wanted anyway), and seems only slightly less horrible than ending a date with a high-five (which my co-workers and I decided earlier today is part of a basic equation where a high five equals NO SEX). But why couldn't I be the one to let him down gently and say, "I had fun, but..." or (let's be honest, this is a more likely scenario) simply not call?
This is why dating sucks.
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