Date # 16 – What He Said

I think we’ve heard quite enough of my point of view on this blog, so here’s my version of what Date # 16 might have written about me, given half the chance:

What He Said:

Dating isn’t easy for a sensitive, spiritual guy these days. Women say they want sensitive, but what they’re really looking for is a Mercedes-driving finance tycoon.  Which is why, when I connected with Maria on OKCupid, I got a little excited, since she mentioned in her profile that she likes to write and is spiritual. I let myself hope that maybe she would be different.

But as usual, get excited, get bitten in the ass. And not in a good way.

Before I take the time to meet someone in person, I like to chat with them on OKCupid. Life is just too short to go running out to buy expensive, questionably-sourced food with some woman whom you haven’t verified can string together a complete sentence.

For starters, it took a week to get her on a chat. Seriously, if you’re that busy, do you even have time to date?

In preparation for our IM session I ran our mutual horoscopes to check out our compatibility. To do this, I asked her for her date of birth via email (she refused to give me the year, which seemed a little silly since it said right on her profile how old she was). I was excited to see we were both the same sign based on the Mayan system. I am a waiter, but consider myself a writer first, so it would make sense for us to be so compatible under the Mayan system. When I told her this, she did not seem to understand the importance of it. I made a mental note to explain it to her in more detail in person so she’d get it.

I then quoted her some of my best poetry. For someone who calls herself a writer, she did not seem as excited as about this as I thought she’d be. I’m noticing that women in general just don’t understand romance like they once used to. I bet Yeats had a much easier time picking up chicks with his rhymes.

Finally, we decided to meet for brunch. Since I don’t have a car and the guy I sublet my room from wasn’t around, I asked if she would pick me up. She said something about it being “too soon.” Seriously, why do I always attract the scarred ones? Too soon for simple human kindness? The restaurant SHE chose was 2 miles away from my place and I had to hoof it because my boss just cut my hours and I didn’t want to spend money on bus fare.

On the Sunday we were supposed to meet, she emailed me just 6 hours before to say she needed to reschedule. Just like that, no explanation. Who does this chick think she is? I was pretty pissed off, and I told her I’d get back to her later (if at all) about rescheduling. I made her sweat it until Wednesday, when I wrote her with the bullshit excuse that I was sick and wouldn’t let her know if MAYBE we could meet the following Sunday. Honestly, these women think they hold all the cards. You’ve got to lay down the law early or they leave you watching their dog while they go on a 3-day heroin bender, like my last girlfriend.

So, we finally meet and she’s okay looking. Not winning any beauty contests, but won’t scare the neighbors either. At least she looks mostly like she did in her pictures, which is more than you can say for most women. I mean, ladies, you know we’re eventually going to see you in person, right? Stop putting up your prom picture and expect me not to notice you’re 20 pounds and 20 years further along when we finally meet. Maria had posted pictures with blond hair AND brown hair, though, which did make me wonder what kind of identity crisis she was going through and just which one would show up for our date.

The brunette version showed up. She wore a blouse that was tight on top and loose in the belly, the kind that women who haven’t done enough sit-ups wear. You’re not distracting me that easy. I mean, I can notice you have a nice rack AND STILL see that you’ve got a jelly-belly. Handle that, will ya? I know since I’m now drawing from the over-40 pool, I’ve got to get a little more realistic on looks, but, honestly, I don’t get it. If Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz can keep it tight, can’t you? Just put down the cheeseburger. It’s not that hard. I’m still wearing the same size pants I did in high school.

So, we sit down, I ask her a few questions, and she’s OFF. Let me tell you, this girl can talk. Work, consulting, politics, coaching soccer for her daughter’s team (had she even mentioned the fact that she had kids? I don’t think so). On and on, just coming up for air often enough to stick a French fry in her mouth. Yum. That will look great on your thighs tomorrow.

When the check comes, I pull out just enough singles from my tip money to cover mine. She makes some half-hearted reach for her wallet, like she’s expecting me to say, “Oh, no, don’t worry, I’ve got it.” I don’t think so, honey. We’re not courting 1956-style. You’ve got a job. I don’t owe you food. Pay your own way.

I ask for a ride back and, again, even after meeting me, she says something about strangers in her car. I just listened to you babble for an hour. I’m a stranger? Cold-hearted wench gives me a fake peck in the air 2 inches away from my cheek, rushes into her car like I’m wielding a butcher knife and leaves me standing in the parking lot. Thanks to her I have to walk 2 miles uphill to get home.

One thing about dating divorced women: they are obviously carrying baggage. I can’t help but think there’s a reason they’re divorced, after all.

Read More About the 51 First Dates After Divorce Project:

Highest clicked-on posts:

Plenty of Fish Chats – I Think My Eyeballs are Bleeding
Date # 12 – Back-up Date is DTF.  Am I?

Catch-up on all the dates:

Date # 1 – Bill a/k/a Angry Guy
Date # 2 – Little Johnny
Dates # 3-10 – Speed Dating
Date # 11 – George, Mr. Perfectly-Nice, Not-For-Me
Date # 12 – Back-up Date is DTF.  Am I?
Date # 13 – The Scariest of All
Date # 14 – Just What’s Your Angle Buddy?
Date # 15 – A Threesome
Date # 16 – What He Said
Date # 17 – Playing the Numbers

More about the 51 First Dates After Divorce Project