The excuses I've heard...

Aside from all the terrible experiences I reflect upon in this blog - there have also been dates that I actually enjoyed - or at least, there were dates that didn't immediately make me want to stab my knitting needles into my eyeballs.

And, of some of those dates - it was me getting the ol' dumperoo. But I still manage to find the humour in a number of those situations because the ways in which these men went about letting me know that 'they just weren't that into me' were pretty darn funny from time to time.

I had been on a few dates with a younger guy. He was nice-balding at 26-but still nice. He never took his ball cap off - but I caught a glimpse: balding with a slight case of ginger. That's sort of beside the point-despite it being an important thing to note.

So anyways, I have rather low expectations when agreeing to date a younger 'man' and a lot of them are thanks to this dude. My last date ended with him because he had to get home to watch Jersey Shore. No. Joke. Now, I still haven't decided if this was just a terrible, terrible excuse to end the date, or if he actually was that eager to go home to Snooki. Regardless of the answer to that question - no man that I'd want in my life would even consider mentioning 'watching Jersey Shore' without the following words being "is a more painful experience than being chewed to death by a rabid crocodile'.

I went on a first date with another fellow - older and a definitely step up from Young Baldy. But, this was one of those cases where I didn't do my research. It was a misstep that I often made. I forgot to look at his height. Now, I am not a jerk. But, I just cannot date a man who is shorter than me. It makes me feel like a giant beast woman - and that is not a feeling I enjoy having. (Important note: I am only 5'5" on a tall day).

Anyways, the height differential made this an improbable match, but I was open-minded, of course. The date was enjoyable. Nothing spectacular, but a slight chance that we'd form some sort of friendship. Until he decided to email me immediately following our date to tell me he had suddenly fallen back in love with an ex and would be attempting to put that relationship back together. No problem (bullshit - but no problem). I wished him well. Fast forward a few months - I had taken a short break from dating and was just recently back online: new profile, new photos, etc. ShortMan was one of the first people to message me! Except it was clear he didn't recognize me. I kindly reminded him who I was - and he vanished. Quel surprise. Maybe I was so much taller than him he forgot what my face looked like (as well as the sob story he provided me)? Or perhaps, maybe, he was just a small-statured douche bag who lacked not only height, but balls as well. 

The point I hoped to illustrate with these two examples is that it's important to take your ego out of the game when you're dating online. If you don't mesh with someone - tell them. You won't break their heart. You won't ruin their life. Trust me. It is entirely realistic to expect that you are only going to 'spark' with a very small percentage of the people you meet via computer - and it's respectful and mature to be straightforward with the person you plan on dumping like yesterday's trash. *finger snap x3* 

A flashback

Adam and I went to Chapters last week to stock up on some new books. I ended up buying this one  and this one. I think that may have been the first time any Chapters cashier witnessed that book purchase combination.

However, that's neither here nor there.

The Chapters we went to was also the location of one of the WORST dates I've EVER had. Ew. Yuck.

I can't remember his name, for which I'm grateful. This date occurred somewhere in the middle of my online dating lifespan. He was one of those borderline guys that I hemmed and hawed about for a while before agreeing to a date. By borderline, I mean - he could either be really ugly or kind of cute. Maybe borderline doesn't quite fit as a description. What I mean is that his pictures online looked decent. I guess you could say he had potential to go either way.

He went the bad way.

He sort of resembled that kid from A Christmas Story - all grown up. Not Ralphy (cause we all know that actually turned out well). I'm talking about the psycho Ginger (no offense cool Gingers I know) weasel kid:

Yeah. A grown up version of that guy. Not only did my 'date' look weird  - he WAS weird, man. First - he didn't know how to order from Starbucks. He asked if they had coffee. Second - he drank his coffee from a straw. 

I literally spoke three sentences the entire 1.5 hours we were there. He, in between straw sips of his hot, hot beverage, regaled me with stories from his childhood about how he wasn't hugged enough by his mommy. He made hugging motions around his own body to emphasize that fact. He was his own closed captioning - in case all his incessant babble had inadvertently deafened me, I think. 

This went on and on and on. I had actually given up any sort of attempt at discreetness in checking the time on my phone by this point. He actually watched me check the clock at least five times, all the while talking non-stop about his mommy - completely unphased.

Luckily for me, he soon switched topics - he wanted to tell me about his job as a janitor at an old age home. And let me tell you, I was completely misinformed about the work of old age home janitors. They save lives, people. They. save. lives. Or he did, at least. Those elderly men and women all would have died long, lonely deaths if he and his trusty mop weren't around. He seemed to be the McDreamy of retirement residences. McMoppy. 

After covering his emotional childhood scars, his life saving janitorial work and eventually, his ritual of burning ex girlfriends belongings - I just stood up and said I had to leave.

I didn't hug him either. His mom would have been proud of me.