Posted by: kristabella | February 19, 2008

Eject

So I was talking with a co-worker today and somehow the subject of dating came up and I sat and realized that “wow, I’m in a dating drought.” (Side note: does it make me an alcoholic that my first inclination was to spell that draught?)

I haven’t been on a date in forever. I was on match.com for a few months this summer and never got as much as an email back. My last date, that I can remember, because the alcohol makes me forgetful, was back in 2006. I think it was either spring or fall. Clearly it was quite a memorable date.

I am what you would call a “late bloomer.” I never had a boyfriend until I was 28. I never dated much. And by much, I mean never. Part of it was that I was always a guy’s girl, so I was always more of a friend than a potential love interest. I was also fat and didn’t love my body and I think my low self-esteem had a lot to do with my lack of dating. Guys can sense that.

So I don’t have a lot of bad date stories. Thankfully. Almost all of them have been pleasant and I have enjoyed the person’s company, even if there was no chemistry. Except for this one time.

Back in 2005, a few months after I moved back to Chicago, a few college friends came into town. We all became friends when we lived on the same dorm floor freshman year at Arizona State. That really has nothing to do with this story, by the by.

We spent the weekend downtown and ended up having pizza at Gino’s East for lunch one afternoon. We end up with a nice waiter, a bit of a smart ass, but as long as he brings me out my deep dish and my friend cheese, he’s golden in my book. His name tag says Geeves. My one friend, who is married, strikes up a conversation with him, asking him if his real name is Geeves and going on and on asking him all about him. And basically just delaying this man from putting our pizza order in. And I am cranky because a girl needs to eat!

So we chat with him. He’s nice. Whatever. Bring me my food, Geeves.

My friends, a married mother and two people from out of state, ask him what he’s doing that evening and then invite him out with us. They get his phone number, to call him later so that we can all rendezvous at the bar around 2. I think nothing of this because I am in this restaurant for one reason. I am here to eat pizza and preferably not get any of it on my white capri pants.

Apparently my friend did all this because she thinks that he is cute and a nice guy and that I should totally date him. I, being the only sane person at the table apparently, think this is a BAD idea and think we should drop this altogether. Because he’s not my type, he’s short and he is a Sox fan. And I’m here for PIZZA!

He ends up meeting us out that night. We end up at Howl at the Moon because I’m apparently drawn to that place like a Hilton to DUIs. We chit chat a little. I make an effort because I am being pressured by my friend, who is about three steps away from declaring me a spinster and dried up because I must date this man! I’m running out of options! There will be no good guys left because you’re almost 30! And you have to take what you can get!

He’s nice. All I remember is that he showed up in a white T-shirt, jeans and matching brand-spanking new white tennis shoes that he did NOT want scuffed up. Which I learned when I drunkenly stepped on his small foot and he got peeved. Oh, and he had a White Sox hat on. On top of it, he was short and he smoked. I had NO feelings for this guy.

I end up giving him my number. Because my friend is pretty persuasive. And I’m starting to think that maybe this is all that is left for me. And maybe I should snatch this up because if it isn’t getting any better, it sure is getting A LOT worse.

At this time, I’m living with my brother and his family way up north in the suburbs. Geeves lives on the South Side. In Bridgeport. A stone’s throw from Mayor Daley, as he tells me. So for our first date, we meet halfway and go to dinner and a movie. The highlight? He got mad when I offered to pay, telling me it was insulting. And we saw Batman Begins, which was awesome. The low-light was when, during the movie, I went to put my jacket on because it was cold in the theater and he said I could “put my hand in his because he could warm me up.”

And then I vomited in my mouth.

We had a second date. We went to dinner down in his hood and then we were going to some dive bar because he was on a pool team and his team was playing pool that night. Or something. On the way to dinner, we started talking about rap music and somehow the subject of marijuana came up. (I think we were listening to Ludacris.) And then, out of the blue, he blurts out “I’ve only done coke twice in my life.”

That sound you heard was my jaw hitting the floor.

It’s not like I asked. I didn’t even ask him if he had ever smoked pot. We went from Ludacris to pot to his trial run with cocaine.

I didn’t know what to say. I was STUNNED. I kept looking for the eject button. I actually debated about how painful it would have been to have tucked and rolled my way right onto Cicero Avenue. Because that would have been less painful. And the date had just STARTED. I had to sit through dinner and some stupid pool match. What. The fuck?

Clearly my mind was made up after this. I went to dinner. And watched him play pool. The whole time he got mad because I was looking around and people watching. Did I mention we were at a dive bar on the South Side of Chicago? Because some of those people, people he KNEW, they didn’t have teeth! It was like I found myself in an episode of The Simpsons with Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel. It was a wonder that these people had shirts and shoes to get service.

That was our last date. Clearly. I had only gone on the second date because of the pressure from my friend. Telling me that you can’t tell everything on a first date. And that you have to give it at least two dates.

It was right then and there that I decided that I would never be pressured into going out with anyone my friends wanted me to. Especially when I knew I didn’t want to. And I also realized that my gut is the only one to trust. And that if someone wanting to hold your hand in a theatre makes you have to swallow your own vomit, it’s not the right place for you to be.

I’ll take spinster cat lady over that any day.

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Responses

  1. You & I have so much in common that it kind of scares me….
    Jules
    House of Jules

  2. Good story! When I was on match.com I went on a couple of dates with a guys that I felt absolutely ZERO connection with, but he was a super nice guy, so I kept giving him more chances. I think I finally decided that it was time to stop when he tried to kiss me (on our third date) and I turned and gave him the cheek! You and me and Jess should go out in the square soon! We were at the Daily last Friday and there were some cute boys there!!! :0)

  3. This sounds like something that would happen to me. Heh. Like you, I was a “late bloomer.” I didn’t have a boyfriend until I was almost 22. I was never one of those girls that would put up with stupid BS just to be with someone. And for some reason, those were the guys around me…the ones full of BS. Oh, and I had a self-esteem problem too.

    About 2 years ago, I went on a date with this one guy, and it was going alright. We decided to see a movie after dinner, and it was fine until the movie started. He laughed at the wrong parts and didn’t laugh at funny parts. And, his laugh made me cringe. When we were in the parking lot after the movie, I kept thinking, “Please don’t try to kiss me. Please don’t.” I fast walked to my car and threw my car door open between us, so he couldn’t kiss me. That should’ve been clue #1 not to go on a 2nd date. I talked to my friend about it, and she told me to give him another try. I did. And, of course there was nothing there.

    I agree with you. If you gut tells you there is nothing there, then there is nothing there. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to go out with someone if you don’t feel anything. And, I would rather be alone than with someone who has a laugh that makes me want to vomit. Heh. 😉

  4. That is CLEARLY 3rd date information!

  5. Sounds like you found yourself a winner there!! I’m thinking spinster cat lady sounds pretty good compared to that, too.

  6. Oh my lord, how AWFUL! A boyfriend will happen when it happens. Usually when you least expect it. Oh, and I hate guys who keep their shoes squeaky clean. Ridiculous!

  7. Why why why do you write posts that I could write word for word? It scares me a little.

  8. Oh my do I have match.com stories.

    We have inside jokes that will last forevah because of match.com.

    Yowza!

  9. That man is freaky! There are less creepy dudes out there, for sure. Oddly enough, the pal I was staying with this weekend is really similar to you–often doesn’t date cause she’s such a guy’s girl. She has solved this by hooking up with her coworkers, but I wouldn’t recommend that approach.

  10. Unscuffed white shoes? I’m still trying to get past the part where you went on a second date.

    Actually, I have a similar story, so I can’t judge. To my credit I was completely wasted on the first date and didn’t know any better than to accept a second.

  11. Honey, you and I could be the same person… I just happen to live in the South (where the challenge is that they usually hide their ick-factor under the guise of being well-mannered and tons of Southern charm).

    Random thought… do you find dating also much more challenging because of the height factor (and maybe less of the body image factor)? Like I will never be a dainty little flower that so many Southern guys are looking for, even if I was waif-like, simply because I am pretty much SIX FEET TALL.

  12. Trust your gut. That is the most important dating lesson I have learned!

  13. I can’t believe you were on match.com and Dr. Phil didn’t even send you an email. That sucks.

    I don’t envy you young whippersnappers (that’s twice today I’ve used that word. Score.) It’s hard to meet men – good useful men that is. The other kind, the coke snorting, Sox fan types, abound.

  14. Not a damn thing wrong with being a spinster cat lady – – I would choose THAT over dating those kind of losers ANY day!

    And I agree – – TRUST YOUR GUT – – every time!

  15. With the name Geeves it should have been your first clue!

  16. Agreed, spinster cat lady is preferable to that crap. Speaking of, have you ever checked out the http://www.quirkyalone.net site? Its just meant for people like you! And I mean that in a totally good way. Because QA’s are awesome people, not afraid to be who they are, not caving to societal pressure, etc.

  17. That is freaking wild. I am so glad that I’m not in the dating scene anymore (married). Just do what is right for you and…

    always always always wear your tiara!

    =)

  18. uggh! I had the worst dates…this story made me smile and remember them all. I think my favorite was the blind date that I was set up on where the guy used the N word and left me at the restaurant because I had dated a black man in the past…good times.

  19. so that’s a no to a make out session then?


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