The Second and Third Seem to be My Limit

Maybe I’m not cut out for a long-term committed relationship after all.

Maybe what I thought I wanted turns out to be what I don’t need.

The universe may be trying to tell me something. 

Maybe I’m just bad at dating.

With my recent barrage of dates consisting of Match suitors, I can’t seem to get past a 2^nd or 3^rd date.  Often times, by my own accord.  Sometimes it is mutual.  Sometimes he just isn’t that in to me.  I’ve been around the block enough times to realize that dating is a serious part-time job full of uncomfortable first interviews, occasional uncomfortable silence and plain torture not far from water boarding it seems.

I’ve dated:

-        An attorney ($28 Worth).  He wasn’t in to me. 2 dates.

-        An entrepreneur.  I wasn’t that into him.  3 dates.

-        A 7^th grade history teacher.  I wasn’t that into him.  3 dates.

-        A salesman.  Epic failure.  I don’t do well with sales people it appears.

There are always the bizarro emails I get from potentials that just skeeze me out.  Of course, being a sarcastic cyber biznatch, I always have to respond for a bout of chain-yanking.  As I type this, I realize that karma may in fact be a biznatch in and of itself, and my chain yanking (for a once upon a day of collective, published dating stories) is keeping me single.  Because, after all, what goes around most likely comes around.

But come on, how can I not respond to these jack-arse morons?

Exhibit A (chain of correspondence stemming from his initiation.  No picture and status says he lives in El Paso.  My profile states NO LONG DISTANCE.

Creepy Sleezeball:  Hello your hot and I have a crush on u.

American Bridget:  How can you have a crush on me? You don't even know me.  Did you read anything in my profile?  Horrid use of grammar is noted on this end.  Furthermore, why is there no picture posted?

CSB: are you saying that once i get to know you i won't have a crush? of course i don't know you. let me have my crush in peace. honestly i read most of your profile, it's awfully long and i am at work you know.i just got on match today. no pic yet wouold you like me to send you one? maybe you'll get a crush?

AB:  I will let you have your crush in peace. Still no pics?

CSB: all i have with me is my laptop and cell not alot if any pics. Did i mention that i am good looking? What's your name?

CSB (next day): hello there cutie, how's your day coming along? remember me? so are you gonna let me take you out?

AB (not serious) You can take me out when you send me a picture and catch a flight to Dallas. I don't do long distance. Did you read anything in my profile, yet?

CSB: hello, I've read most of it. I'm in Dallas, been in Dallas and looks like i may be staying for awhile. where would you like me to send a pic? or you can just take my word for it and believe me when i say that i'm not that bad looking. borderline good looking, looks aren't everything you know. what's your name?

AB: You've had 3 days to read my profile. It's not a novel and would take maybe a full 4 minutes to read top to bottom. If you still haven't read about me, then I am not interested.

Sorry dude.

CSB: are you in a bad mood this morning? of course i read your pprofile, i was kidding. but in all honesty, a profile that you wrote about yourself is just what you want me to think about you. I can make myself sound fabulous too you know. so are you in a bad mood? be nice it's friday

CSB (next day): are we still friends?

AB:  Not at all.

$28 Worth: First date wrap-up

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Now 1:20 am

After getting back home and unlocking the backdoor as quietly as possible as to not alarm The Natives I placed my purse down on the dining room table.    It was too late.  The beagles were wide awake and eager to greet me as if they could understand everything begging me to dish about my date with $28 Worth and be forthcoming with juicy deets.  Their warm, sloppy kisses melted my heart and killed my nostrils.  Apparently, their breath is way worse to me in the middle of the night - could peel wallpaper off the wall.

I slipped into my PJs and began to go through the nightly ritual of trying to save any amount of youthfulness I can; which is a losing battle in my case.  Before filling up the Tervis with chilled water and popping a couple of Advil miracle pills that routinely deter foreboding morning-after-drinking-binge headaches, I heard my phone buzz.

Hey, just got home.  Had a perfect night. Did you make it home ok? Would love to hang out again, pronto.

Home safe.   Had an awesome time.  Thanks for the great laughs and stories.

And so it was.  

$28 Worth Date: Part Tres

Monday, July 11, 2011

11:37 pm 

As I am driving home near seconds away from the house, I hear my phone buzz.  Must be a text message from $28 Worth.  Either that or my best friend checking in on me to ensure I am indeed still alive and not crumpled up in the back of some psycho’s car trunk on the way to wooded levy (Me, paranoid?  Nah). 

Phone buzzes again.  It’s him.

Hey, had a blast tonight, was great to finally meet up in person.

I pondered.  I hadn’t realized the time when we left the wine bar. I peered over to the clock in my car and the time was only 11:37.  I pulled into the driveway and thunked hard about my next strategic text back.  Do I politely agree with him and thank him for a great evening as well?  Do I wait a few minutes to keep him on pins and needles?  Gawd, how I loath the early stages of dating.  After careful consideration and a surmountable level of liquid confidence running through my blood stream (legal limits, of course), I texted him back.

What if I wasn’t ready for the night to end?

Oh no!!!!  I immediately regretted my text response decision.  Did I come across too forward?  Did I look desperate?  Did I make myself seem like a lush?  What if he didn’t respond?  What if he politely sent back some ambiguous response?  Why did I send that?   I start to gather my purse and march toward my back door feeling anxious and defeated.  And as I was unlocking the back door eager to greet The Natives, my purse starts buzzing at me.

The night is still young.

And, so I quietly closed the back door and snuck back into the evening before awaking The Natives and left them to sleep comfortably among dreams of bones, doghouses and hunting squirrels in the backyard.

$28 Worth: Date Part Deux

Monday, July 11, 2011

7:28 pm

I had been chatting with the wine bar owner about the daily specials whilst searching for anything cold that would quench my palate as much as a glass of vino can do.  Recall, my AC in my house wallet raper had been incompetent the prior 5 days and the inside walls were registering 96 degrees.  Yeah I said,  inside.  I know what you're thinking . . . .Great diet though.  Sweating off the pounds just sitting around.  Yup.

7:30 pm
He promptly walked into the wine bar.

That’s commendable. 

Most people in Texas don’t know how to tell time.

We're just slower here.  And by we, I don't mean me.

Out of the corner of my eye he appeared with a smirk.

Oh Gawd, was he smirking because he believed I looked nothing like my pictures and he wanted to run?  Was it the mosquito bite on dead smack in the middle of my forehead that looked like a teenager’s worst blemish nightmare?

“Hi Ryan.  Wow. You look better in person than your pictures, so great to finally meet you.”

Relief.

We order wine.  Around comes another round or three of the nectar of the Gods.  And then comes the cheese board.  At this point in I’m three glasses in and not ashamed of shoving food down my sometimes never-fulfilling gauntlet.  I needed to maintain a level of sobriety at some point during the night so I could get my saucy ass back to the house wallet raper (and then most likely hug the porcelain throne). 

11:30 pm

He politely pays for the bevs and apps and we walk toward the parking lot to our respective vehicles.  There are only three cars in the parking lot, one of which is mine.  It’s dark out so my depth perception and noticeable vino buzz makes distinguishing cars challenging.  I point out my car, and he walks me to it.  We chat for a few minutes before I ask him where his car is parked.  He points to a white looking pseudo SUV thingy a few spots over.  Really, it just looked like some ambiguous run-of-the-mill-everyone-has-one-cross-over.

“Oh, nice.  You drive a Subaru.  I’ve heard those are great cars and, in fact, I hear they maintain well for years and years… (insert more indistinguishable rambling here).”

He gives me a blank stare followed by a half smirk and then a deep breath.  Oh shit, I rambled too much about cars of which I know absolutely nothing about because I have about as much interest in listening to Click and Clack Car Talk on Sunday morning radio as I do watching paint dry.  I just insulted him.  He clearly had taken my comments to heart and I broke his ego halo.  Oh, gawd, why do I open my retarded mouth?

“Ryan, that’s not a Subaru.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I mean, I like Subarus.  I think we had one when I was a kid.  No wait, I think that was a Datsun station wagon.  Yeah, that was it.  It was chocolate brown with pungent vinyl seats.  I always remembered that car’s smell would overwhelm me.  Are Subaru and Datsun they related?  Wait no.  Datsun isn’t even manufactured any more is it?  Never mind.  So what is it?”

“A Cayene.”

“Cayene? What’s that? Is it new?   Never heard of that.  Who makes that?”

“Porche.”

“Oh.”

$28 Worth pre-date convo

Monday, July 11, 2011.

$28 Worth and I had scheduled our first meet-up.

A quaint lil' wine bar in my n'hood.

1) Because it is close and, if the date failed, I could hit the eject button and get home swiftly and lock my doors without having to drive too far like a bat out of hell running from Freddy Kruger.

2) Because we are both wine enthusiasts lushes, or so Match pointed out to us in our profile considerations. 

11:14 am

“Good morning.  Hey, we still on for tonight, say 7:30?”

11:49 am

“Sounds like a plan to me.  Are you ready to bring your wine and cheese A Game?”

6:45 pm

“Do you know if this place is tank top friendly?”

6:46 pm

“Yes, and jort friendly too.”

7:01 pm

“I might beat you there.  I had to stop and pick up my Ed Hardy shirt I left at the bar last night.  I guess I took it off there in the midst of my shenanigans.”

7:15 pm

“That’s OK.  I’m wearing my fav hooker 6” heels.

7:21 pm

“Great.  It’s possible I will come up to your boobs depending on how hookery your heels are. I’m also running out of jokes…meet you in a few.”

And, that's how my Monday pre-date lead-in started.  

Sense of humor?  Check.

Sarcasm? Check.

Wine Gulper?  Check.

I'm AmericanBridget and I might have consumed one too many Pinot Grigios on Monday evening.

$28 worth

Update to my previous post surrounding my recent online dating (or lack thereof) antics found here.

Suitor # 1 still hasn't called.  While I'd love to give up on him, it's not like a plethora of boys are lining up at my doorstep to whisk me out and fall all over themselves swooning at me. I've no choice but to give him a few more days and then I'll kick him in the jaw like I'd like to kick the yapping dog next door who won't stop barking (kidding).


Suitor # 2 is probably still talking incessantly about himself to some other new gal.  Hope she's able to get a word in.  Otherwise, someone's got ears who are tired of listening to Mister Iliketopumpupmyownego.


Suitor # 3 I have written off.  He's history like last Tuesday's leftover sandwich.  Gone and done.  I can't compete with Miami every other weekend.  


$28 Worth (#4) reached out to me last night.  He's totally excited to meet me, except that he's leaving tomorrow to head out to Hawaii for the week.  Promised to send me a picture of some wonderful fruity alcoholic concoction with the Pacific Ocean in the background.   So, I will wait patiently to get to know him.  In the meantime, I was hoping for an overnight weight loss, thigh trimming, stomach tightening miracle machine, but alas, I will just need to starve myself by chomping on celery and ice chips. 

I'm AmericanBridget and my pickings are slim (or at least dwindling away).