Mr. Unavailable #141: Sic

Vital Stats: 5’10”, 45, Some kind of public speaker. Demeanor: As if desperately trying to not seem desperate. Aesthetic: As if his casual look was overly planned.

What Happened: Maybe it was female intuition, maybe it was plain old hard-won experience, but I knew enough not to count on anything with #98, so the same day #98 turned off the charm, I already had a coffee date set up for the afternoon. Unfortunately, things started off with #141 with a series of Seinfeldian annoyances:

First, I asked if we could meet at 4 and he asked if we could make it earlier because he had to be somewhere that night, so we agreed to meet at 3:15. That wouldn’t have been so bad, except… Second, he was late. Like, 15 minutes late. That wouldn’t have been so bad if I’d found him attractive, but… Third, he had oddly big teeth (caps?) and… Fourth, he had an odd kind of speech tick. Both his S’s and his Th’s sounded like Sh’s. There was something ocean-waves-sound-machine about it. It might have been soothing except it came with a spitting sea spray effect and… Fifth, he wasn’t as tall as the 5’10” he said he was in his profile—although they never are.

We met at Colombe on Lafayette, he bought me a coffee (“Can I get you shomeshing to drink?”) and we found a seat near a window. I wasn’t feeling terribly interested, so I let him talk. It turned out he had some kind of job that involved public speaking (there’s a joke in there somewhere). And he’d been in a heavy metal band back in the ‘80s that had opened for big hair bands that had opened for even bigger hair bands.

He also talked a lot about his online dating experiences. “I’m shure it’s very different for you, but I only get maybe five meshagesh a day.” At that point I began to wonder how closely acquainted he was with the truth. Even with my most flattering, flaw-diminishing photos, I don’t get anywhere near five messages a day. And then he also had a lot of crazy dating stories: someone who tried to coax him into partaking in bondage with her, someone who got really weird on a second date "She was talking like we were already in a relashionship, like she wanted me to meet her father..." 

After about an hour, the plans he supposedly had with friends never materialized, so I said I had to get to the gym.

“Can I get you a shecond coffee for the road?” he asked.

He was beginning to sound a little desperate, but, hey, free coffee. “Sure, I’ll take another iced mocha.”

He got my coffee and then I walked him to the subway. “We should get together again,” he said.

“Sure,” I said, giving him a hug. He texted me a few hours later.

#141: “Was nice to spend tim (sic) with u. Part 2??”

It took me two hours and three friend consultations to respond. Kevin said not to force myself if I wasn’t feeling it. Another guy friend said, “I think it’s always worth a second date.” A girl friend said, “Maybe give him one more chance.”

I texted back.

Me: “Sure”… I texted. And then I felt bad that it didn’t sound more enthusiastic, so I added, “It was nice spending time with you, too.”

He texted back immediately.

#142: ;))).  Good answer. I’m glad!!!

Five days later, at 12:49 a.m., with a second date still not planned, he texted.

#142: Fast hello. Let’s make a plan soon. Sleep well.

Both irked and mildly creeped out, I responded at a normal time 12 hours later.

Me: Sounds good.

An hour later, he texted again.

#141: Hey Tara. U just popped on my Facebook as a friend suggestion. I think we have a mutuel (sic) friend. Anyway. I sent u a friend request. Except (sic) me if u want ;)

That was weird. I popped up as a friend request? How random. I was curious as to who our mutual friend might be, so I went to his profile to see the mini mutual-friend photo collage on his page. But there was none. I really wanted to know who they were, so I accepted his friend request. Once I did, I still couldn’t see any of his friends. They were blocked. That was weird.

Between the friend suggestion that supposedly “popped up” and the fact that he seemed unable to actually make a second date, I was becoming moderately creeped out.

He texted me a few hours after I accepted his request.

#141: Thanks for the Facebook. Wow. U in makeup. Ummmm breathtaking!

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I replied six hours later.

Me: Thanks!

#141:  Haha ur welcome. Ps not that u didn’t look grate (sic) with out lol. But uh wow lol.

OK, I don’t know about you, but super-enthusiastic compliments mixed with a bunch of LOLs in texts from a guy I went on one date with who then not only did not make a plan for a second date but stalked me on Facebook makes me feel really, really uncomfortable, i.e., completely creeped out. Six days after the coffee date, I was out to dinner with Nora and said, “I have no idea how he found me.”

“Could he have figured out your last name?” Nora asked. The question gave me chills.

“I really just want to de-friend him,” I said.

“Do it.”

I opened Facebook on my phone, went to his profile, de-friended him and immediately felt a sense of relief. And then, in case I ever got confused as to who was sending me creepy texts, I change his name on my phone to “Sic.”

Signs of Hope: At least I was willing to give him a second chance.

Red Flags: He totally blew his second chance. And, not only was he not really 5’10”, but, when I checked his profile later, he was also not 45, but 47.

Turning Point: When he "found" me on Facebook.

Diagnosis: For him: Sic.

For me: Sic-ened.