Datehazard’s Blog

On dating, singleness and adjusting to being 30ish.

Unimpressed women and frustrated men February 14, 2009

Filed under: Comedy,Dating,Desire,Drama,frustration — datehazard @ 11:59 pm
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Why is it that there are so many unhappy looking people on Valentine’s Day?

And I’m not just talking about people without roses.

On the way back home from spending the day with my newly single friend The Artist, I noticed a woman talking to a man with That tone of voice. It was a quiet, explaining tone, but it had an edge of annoyance. I looked in her direction, but her male partner’s arm was blocking her face. He was holding onto an overhead railing, and she was facing him, her back to the train door.

She was trying to explain the building blocks of DNA to her companion. In her proper accented English, she explained that the human body was made up of proteins, down to the amino acids that make up DNA. Her partner, either willingly or unwittingly, did not seem to be able to understand this basic fact. She tried several versions of an explanation. She tried to relate genetic coding to something he would understand. She chose binary code. I assume he must have been in an IT-related field because of her choice, but I found that hard to believe, given that he didn’t seem to exercise the kind of logic required in the field.

He also seemed entirely unwilling to meet her halfway. I couldn’t really hear what he was saying to her, but I got the sense that he also wasn’t really that interested in understanding what she was saying. I looked at his back and his grey hair, noticed the disparity in age between them, the unkempt and rumpled state of his coat. I saw her wavy brown hair, the edge of her clear glasses, her red coat mismatched with an orange scarf. And I started to get angry.

As she started again to try to explain the four bases in the nucleic acid of DNA (AGTC) he smiled patronizingly at her, stepped closer to her in mid-sentence, and leaned in to kiss her. She returned a peck and tried to finish her sentence. He cut her off, “I just don’t get it, I mean, the body is made up of proteins? These are proteins?” And started stroking her hair. She tried to continue, “Yes, I mean, it’s the most basic fact. It’s really basic –” and then gave up.

Occasionally I would see her reflected profile in the subway car’s shiny metal walls. As she was leaving, I got a good look at her reflected face. Her mouth had a firmness, and a suppressed frown. Her eyes flashed annoyance and she pursed her mouth, then sighed abruptly. Her eyes trailed to the floor and stayed there.

I wanted to run after her, tell her not to sleep with this idiot of a man. Tell her that he wasn’t even attractive, with his grey stubble, soft jowls and faintly stained and spotted crumpled coat. That she is not a misfit, hardly unattractive, with wonderful brown hair and a sparkling, sharp mind. And that she hardly needed to entertain, not even for a minute, this mess of a human being; someone clearly not at all interested in her as a person and only involved in satisfying his own lust.

But I didn’t. And so I sat, disturbed, and a little upset by what I’d just seen.

Corporate Lawyer wanted to meet up with me and was really disappointed when I said no — but I think what I’d seen gave me pause to sit and reflect on what I was doing in my dating sphere, too. I just needed to spend some time by myself this evening.

And The Charmer sent a rather rude text message propositioning me, asking me to stay with him on Tuesday night and he would drive me to work on Wednesday. I didn’t know what to say, which is exactly what I replied. I mean, you’d think it would be nice to be asked to dinner, not to be just asked to come over and service him… which is kinda how it read. How disappointing.

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The Charmer February 13, 2009

Filed under: Comedy,Dating,Desire — datehazard @ 5:27 pm
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So, last night was the big, weird, awkward, and eventually hilarious singles party. I started the evening with a guy in his 50s, who was pleasant enough, but really, a little too old for me; and ended the evening with a firecracker of a 40-year-old, henceforth known as The Charmer.

The Charmer was with his friend, The Entrepreneur. Both had been having some drama with women hitting on them in ways they felt to be aggressive, so when I first approached the Charmer, he wasn’t really interested in talking to me. Eventhough he’d been trying to catch my eye while I was otherwise occupied with the 50-year-old.

The Charmer works in a corporate job in senior management for a large multi-national clothing company. The funny thing is, it wasn’t as if I could tell he was an exec just by looking at him. What had attracted me at first were his glasses, then the cute way he started dancing a little to the music. I’d thought perhaps he was a nerd, or an academic type. I was thinking, “maybe advertising, maybe marketing.” I didn’t expect him to be such a corporate guy.

But when I walked up to him and introduced myself to him, all of that didn’t matter. What overwhelmed me and pushed me into a state of pure lust was the cologne he was wearing. At almost the same time that I noticed how he smelled, he noticed how I smelled, and asked what perfume I was wearing. I told him, and he expressed how attractive it was. I smiled because I had been thinking exactly the same thing about him, although I hadn’t said anything.

And then we started talking, and I found him absolutely, ridiculously charming. In an entirely abrasive, uncouth, clumsy fashion. For instance, he referred to his ethnic background using a racial slur, without batting an eye (delivered with a “matter of fact” unself-consciousness, in fact). He made off-colour jokes that I couldn’t but help burst out laughing to, and when he noticed my reaction, he warmed up and just kept them coming. He also had really kind, smiley eyes. Even if he had a kind of macho bravado about him. Utterly compelling. I was transfixed watching him and his friend in action. The two were feeding off each other’s energy, posturing, posing, engaging in one-upmanship against each other, and disclosing waaaay too much information.

In fact, they even got into sexual preferences and experiences in so much detail I had to call a time-out. Their descriptions of the combinations and permutations of gender and number left my mind reeling with vivid images of writhing, sweaty bodies, piled naked on top of, beside, behind, under, (between? What are some other prepositions…) each other. Way too much information for what’s not even a first date.

And then we said our goodbyes and The Charmer whisked me off home in his waiting car service. Along the way, vigorous groping and making out commenced, along with much passionate kissing. I wished the car had been equipped with a privacy screen. But then again, it’s probably best it wasn’t, or there might have been no modesty to boast of, on either of our parts, in the short 20 minutes it took to get to my house. And along the way, The Charmer asked me to seriously consider going on holiday with him next weekend.

And today he brought it up again and I started looking at flights. After calling a dear girl friend and dishing. We’re going to try to meet one last time before he has to fly out, to see whether it really is such a great idea.

And now I’m pretty exhausted, but I have a blind date with Indie Musician tonight. This has been a hilarious and amazing Valentine’s week for me, regardless of whatever else happens. I don’t think I have had as much fun on Valentine’s, ever. Another benefit of being single: having incredible experiences not possible to be experienced when in a monogamous relationship. And all along, I’d never known what I was missing: all the entertainment and comedic antics of singleness.

 

Valentine’s Day strategies February 10, 2009

Filed under: Adjusting,Dating,Singleness — datehazard @ 10:11 am
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One of the benefits of living in a large city is having a multitude of distractions. Which are exactly what you need when you’re feeling lonely.

This week, I think I have something to do on every single day, except Valentine’s Day. But because my week is so packed, I’m looking forward to doing nothing on that dreaded day, to just stay home, watch a nice movie (thank you, Netflix), and drink a lovely glass of wine with my dinner.

I planned my week in advance, because I knew that I would probably feel lonely and sad otherwise. So I’m going to an “anti-Valentine’s Day” party this week (I don’t know anyone there, but who cares?), a friend’s work-related function on Wednesday (nothing to do with singleness, but maybe a chance to meet some nice people and have some good conversations), and I have a blind date on Friday. Sunday I’m going to meet up with an activity group that I have been watching with some curiosity. I made sure that all of the things happening this week are things that I really want to do. Saturday will be fine. I have a feeling Corporate Lawyer will want to do something at some point, although he seems to be the “Disappearing Guy” mentioned in this article. I met up with him on Sunday night after his half-marathon race, because he was feeling a bit down about his performance in the race. By the time I showed up around dinner time after my yoga class, he was unenthusiastic and not particularly thrilled to see me. That was a marked difference from when he’d initially texted me to tell me he was feeling blue, and when I subsequently called him to cheer him up.

I think he’s getting cold feet about seeing me, and worried that I want something more serious. We haven’t had That Conversation yet (the “what are you looking for and where would you like this to go”) but it’s not really a conversation I want to have, either. We really don’t have that much in common; all of his pop cultural references go over my head (I have no cable t.v. in my apartment), plus we have very different tastes. He talks about John Grisham and Tom Clancy and whoever else, and I talk about Dziga Vertov and the Kino Eye, or global politics. His sense of moral obligation to anyone else in society is little to zero, and he finds it amusing when I bring up the topic. I find it amusing, too, when he demonstrates his politics.

Clearly, we’d need something to relate to soon, or we’re going to keep making and filing witty anthropological mental notes about each other before eventually fading apart.