Background: I dove into the dating pool with zeal, so much so that the night after my date with #115, I had this date with #116. I figured it was like ripping off a Band-Aid. But, much like my date the night before, with the state I was in, almost no one stood a chance, and the Band-Aid-ripping was proving to be too painful.
Vital Stats: 51, 5'9"ish, Antiques Dealer. Aesthetic: Ralph Lauren casual. Demeanor: At 51, it seemed like he'd already had a somewhat active life and, from his level of energy, it seemed like he was ready to move into the post-active phase.
First Date: Dinner at Cafe Mogador. 7 p.m. on a Saturday.
First Impression: WAY older-looking than his photos on dating site OKCupid, which were probably from 10 years before. He actually looked at least 51 in person. And acted more like 61. The 7 p.m. date time ("to get there before the crowd," he'd said) should have been a dead giveaway. He had a slow way of talking and eating, which drove me crazy because almost as soon as I got there, I wanted to get out of there.
Signs of Hope: None. Dinner was relatively quick (no appetizers or sides), but I got held hostage over coffee afterward, which added another hour to the date, even though I did everything but say I wanted to leave to let him know I wanted out (purposefully folding my napkin and putting it on the table, finishing my coffee with flourish, looking at the waitress whenever she was in the vicinity).
Red Flags: To illustrate that we were from completely different generations, at one point he asked me if I had any brothers or sisters and when I told him I had two brothers, he asked, "Are they still living?"
Otherwise, I just wasn't remotely interested. I decided to get an education out of it, though, so I asked him all about his antiques business. Basically, when people died, he was the guy who would go in and buy the whole estate and then sell everything through the auction houses or online. The oddest thing he found? Skulls (as a collectible), on more than one occasion. The biggest score? Buying a painting for $500 that later sold for $500,000. He once had (and continued to have) an opportunity to be on Antiques Roadshow but did a local show instead that later got canceled. He also used to do stand-up comedy and ran in the same circles as Jon Stewart back when he was Jon Leibowitz telling Jewish jokes.
I found it hard to believe #116 was formerly a stand-up, seeing as he was so slow-talking and, to me anyway, very nice but completely unfunny. I asked him what his routine was like and he said he would say bizarre things very quickly. I couldn't picture it but believed it--it was probably an escape from his usual self, which seems to be what most kinds of performance are, including my own on this date.
Turning Point: When we finally got up to leave, that was the turning point: utter relief.
Diagnosis: For him: He needs someone his own age. And someone who is in the same life phase.
For me: I know it's not how it should be but I have to admit it: I'm still kind of waiting for my life to begin. I know, I need a perspective adjustment. It's a problem. Plus, I'm still stuck on #111. That's a problem, too. I miss him terribly and no one can overcome that, certainly not at our usual spot Cafe Mogador, and certainly not a 51-year-old man who fudges his online photos and makes me feel like I'm hanging out with the generation that needs to ask, "Are they still living?"
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Mr. Unavailable #115: A Fishless Existence
Vital Stats: 6', Lawyer. Aesthetic: Casual lawyer (so not too lawyer-y). Demeanor: Casual lawyer.
First Impression: I should probably make it clear that it's questionable that I should even be dating at this point. It might be too soon post-#111 and I may just be too hypercritical--any ability to be open-minded is at an all-time low.
In his OKCupid profile, #115 had three photos, only one of which made me want to date him. I knew, in my heart, he probably didn't look like that one photo, and, when I walked up to him in front of the restaurant, he didn't, but at least it got me out on a date.
First Date: When planning the date, he asked me if I had any favorite places I liked to eat in my neighborhood and I chose Hearth, a restaurant I'd always wanted to go to with #111. When we met in front, he shook my hand, so I couldn't tell if he was immediately interested or not. I kind of didn't care, though, because I was pretty sure I wasn't--like I said, no one would stand a chance at this point.
We were early for our reservation, so we chatted in the restaurant's nearby bar. He said, "I have to tell you a story" and then told me that he had taken the bus there and, while waiting for it, a blind man asking for directions had accidentally hit him in the nose. "I don't know if it's broken or what, but isn't that weird?" I felt bad for him, doubted his nose was broken and thought him to be a little bit of a cry baby (I'll say it again, no one stands a chance at this point). But I gave him props for keeping up good appearances while he was likely in some pain. I also wondered if the incident explained the strange nasal lilt to his voice (see above, hypercritical).
At dinner, we talked about working at law firms (my new job, his ongoing job and upcoming transition). He seemed most comfortable talking about politics, the last last two years of economic decline and how the banks had messed everything up. Formerly a physicist, he was clearly very smart and talked ably about how quants, in tandem with dumb CEOs, destroyed the world. It was interesting and I tried to keep up.
About halfway through our shared flattened chicken, he spotted someone over my shoulder and said, "Do you know who that is?...Chief Justice Sotomayor." She was sitting at a table behind me and he was smitten. For the rest of the night, no, he wasn't wistfully looking at me over the candlelight, he was looking over my shoulder to ogle her. And then, when she walked by to leave, he stared at her, attempting to make eye contact. I was mildly horrified, but, fortunately, she didn't look. I should probably be more forgiving because, as a lawyer, it was probably like he was seeing God.
Signs of Hope: It was a long date and, as it turned into the third hour and we both seemed to be hanging in there, I thought maybe I could go on another date with him, maybe. He seemed nice enough. At one point, he complimented my ring. I'd gotten it just before Halloween for my princess costume and it looked real, like it had a zillion diamonds on it. It was nice that I got a compliment.
Red Flags: Ogling Sotomayor over my shoulder--he was clearly more interested in her, although I was sort of glad for the distraction. Another flag was that, as we first sat down to dinner, he told me he had a severe aversion to fish. "Just the smell makes me feel revolted," he said. It was clear I wasn't to order any fish that night--or, probably, ever. And one #111-esque red flag: even though he appeared to have plenty of money, he chose to live in a one bedroom out in Long Island because, he said, it was cheap. (#111 chose to live with a roommate up in Harlem.)
To be honest, I didn't truly want to get to know him, so I kept the conversation fairly surface-oriented. At the end of the date, I thought maybe I would give him a hug or something and waited to see what he would do. Finally, as we parted ways on my corner--because I didn't even want him to walk me to my door--I was waiting with my hands in my pockets to see what would happen and he stuck out his hand and we shook hands.
Turning Point: At no point was there real hope, so there was no real turning point. I might have been able to conjure more open-mindedness and gone out on a second date if I were in a better mental place, but that was not the way things were.
My Amateur Diagnosis: For him: Probably available for some kind of relationship. Although I got the impression that he liked going out on lots of dinner dates, so he probably wasn't too upset that when he emailed me later for a second date, I turned him down.
For me: Dating #115 long-term would be a fishless existence and I just started eating fish again a few years ago so wasn't ready to give up the omega-3s. Seriously, though, I wonder if I should even be dating. I had no desire to talk to him about anything real--because discussing something real might have started to build a connection and I'm not ready for that. I think his profile might have even said he had kids, but at no time did I ask about them because I just didn't want to know.
Throughout the date, I just kept comparing everything to my first date with #111 and thinking what an idiot #111 was, to throw away what we had...OK, to be honest, the potential of what we had. But we did have a definite connection, a definite spark.
Stayed tuned for #116: Even though I probably shouldn't be dating, it's try, try again...
First Impression: I should probably make it clear that it's questionable that I should even be dating at this point. It might be too soon post-#111 and I may just be too hypercritical--any ability to be open-minded is at an all-time low.
In his OKCupid profile, #115 had three photos, only one of which made me want to date him. I knew, in my heart, he probably didn't look like that one photo, and, when I walked up to him in front of the restaurant, he didn't, but at least it got me out on a date.
First Date: When planning the date, he asked me if I had any favorite places I liked to eat in my neighborhood and I chose Hearth, a restaurant I'd always wanted to go to with #111. When we met in front, he shook my hand, so I couldn't tell if he was immediately interested or not. I kind of didn't care, though, because I was pretty sure I wasn't--like I said, no one would stand a chance at this point.
We were early for our reservation, so we chatted in the restaurant's nearby bar. He said, "I have to tell you a story" and then told me that he had taken the bus there and, while waiting for it, a blind man asking for directions had accidentally hit him in the nose. "I don't know if it's broken or what, but isn't that weird?" I felt bad for him, doubted his nose was broken and thought him to be a little bit of a cry baby (I'll say it again, no one stands a chance at this point). But I gave him props for keeping up good appearances while he was likely in some pain. I also wondered if the incident explained the strange nasal lilt to his voice (see above, hypercritical).
At dinner, we talked about working at law firms (my new job, his ongoing job and upcoming transition). He seemed most comfortable talking about politics, the last last two years of economic decline and how the banks had messed everything up. Formerly a physicist, he was clearly very smart and talked ably about how quants, in tandem with dumb CEOs, destroyed the world. It was interesting and I tried to keep up.
About halfway through our shared flattened chicken, he spotted someone over my shoulder and said, "Do you know who that is?...Chief Justice Sotomayor." She was sitting at a table behind me and he was smitten. For the rest of the night, no, he wasn't wistfully looking at me over the candlelight, he was looking over my shoulder to ogle her. And then, when she walked by to leave, he stared at her, attempting to make eye contact. I was mildly horrified, but, fortunately, she didn't look. I should probably be more forgiving because, as a lawyer, it was probably like he was seeing God.
Signs of Hope: It was a long date and, as it turned into the third hour and we both seemed to be hanging in there, I thought maybe I could go on another date with him, maybe. He seemed nice enough. At one point, he complimented my ring. I'd gotten it just before Halloween for my princess costume and it looked real, like it had a zillion diamonds on it. It was nice that I got a compliment.
Red Flags: Ogling Sotomayor over my shoulder--he was clearly more interested in her, although I was sort of glad for the distraction. Another flag was that, as we first sat down to dinner, he told me he had a severe aversion to fish. "Just the smell makes me feel revolted," he said. It was clear I wasn't to order any fish that night--or, probably, ever. And one #111-esque red flag: even though he appeared to have plenty of money, he chose to live in a one bedroom out in Long Island because, he said, it was cheap. (#111 chose to live with a roommate up in Harlem.)
To be honest, I didn't truly want to get to know him, so I kept the conversation fairly surface-oriented. At the end of the date, I thought maybe I would give him a hug or something and waited to see what he would do. Finally, as we parted ways on my corner--because I didn't even want him to walk me to my door--I was waiting with my hands in my pockets to see what would happen and he stuck out his hand and we shook hands.
Turning Point: At no point was there real hope, so there was no real turning point. I might have been able to conjure more open-mindedness and gone out on a second date if I were in a better mental place, but that was not the way things were.
My Amateur Diagnosis: For him: Probably available for some kind of relationship. Although I got the impression that he liked going out on lots of dinner dates, so he probably wasn't too upset that when he emailed me later for a second date, I turned him down.
For me: Dating #115 long-term would be a fishless existence and I just started eating fish again a few years ago so wasn't ready to give up the omega-3s. Seriously, though, I wonder if I should even be dating. I had no desire to talk to him about anything real--because discussing something real might have started to build a connection and I'm not ready for that. I think his profile might have even said he had kids, but at no time did I ask about them because I just didn't want to know.
Throughout the date, I just kept comparing everything to my first date with #111 and thinking what an idiot #111 was, to throw away what we had...OK, to be honest, the potential of what we had. But we did have a definite connection, a definite spark.
Stayed tuned for #116: Even though I probably shouldn't be dating, it's try, try again...
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