Mr. Unavailable #100: I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone.

See Mr. Unavailable #100, Update, Revisited, Down the Rabbit Hole and The Sound of Silence for the background on this one.

Update: #100 called me yesterday. Yes, not a text. An actual phone call. After nine days. And, when he didn't get me, he even left a message. It looked like a sign of progress--except for the nine days part. I called him back and he asked if I wanted to come over and cuddle. We could order lunch, he said.

I'm no dummy. Going over, all I had in mind was that before anything happened, I had to somehow have the "talk," find out "what he was looking for" and if we were "on the same page." He ordered lunch for us, we watched TV, fooled around. I kept thinking, "I really need to say something now...or maybe now...or now..." But now never quite arrived.

The Upshot: I found the whole afternoon to be a little, well, dull. It was fun in a way, but I began to wonder where the depth had gone--or if there had been any depth at all. Was this really what I wanted? After four hours of constant effort on his part (really, quite impressive), I gave in. Afterward, things were, well, awkward. He asked if I wanted to order dinner and suggested I "step up" on the tab. Midway through perusing a menu, I told him I was leaving.

Clarity: Everything fell into place on my walk home. The reason I didn't ask him what he was looking for was because I already knew. I knew it from the moment I first laid eyes on his skinny jeans. He's not Relationship Guy. He's Good Time Guy. Or, true to his name, Mr. Unavailable #100. Dates 2, 4 and half of 3 were great: he told me things and did things to lead me to believe he might be Relationship Guy, and maybe on some level he wanted to believe them, but I don't think he was capable of sustaining it.

There were far more signs that he wasn't Relationship Guy: only texting, not getting in touch for days (see: nine days, above), not appearing to really want to get to know me on a substantive level, suggesting I pick up the dinner tab and--another keeper--saying his neighbor referred to women as "accounts" (as in, "That account is closed") but never really saying it was a bad thing (as in, he probably had "open accounts," too). And even though he was 35, I could never quite shake the fact that I thought of him as being more like 24.

I had seen the direction things were headed: watching TV and fooling around. If I had forced "the talk," I would have had to hear--in actual words--what I already knew. And really, why bother?

In Conclusion: Hopefully my mother will never read this, but I'm glad I "gave in." If I had "held out," it would have continued to feed my fantasy that maybe he was Relationship Guy. Instead, I got some necessary reality. And ended a really long dry spell.

Maybe I'll hear from him again. Or maybe not. Either way, I'm fine. Great, actually. It is a little sad, because maybe he'll make a good boyfriend for someone someday. But not for me and not anytime soon.

Update (Already!): I saw him on the street today (NYC is much smaller than you think) and either he saw me first and totally ignored me or he totally didn't see me. I almost said something but then saw the determined/angry look on his face and thought better of it, realizing he either didn't want to interact with me at all or was totally wrapped up in something in his head. More importantly, my second thought was, "Really? Him? I slept with HIM?"

Next in the #100 series: Anthropological Experimentation

Mr. Unavailable #100: Down the Rabbit Hole

See The Downtown Hipster, The Way to a Girl's Heart, Momma's Boy, Update and Revisited for the background on this one.

This is where it either all starts to go horribly wrong (but looks like it's going terrifically right) and I get sucked in or this is where I discover I've totally misjudged this guy. Only time will tell. And, to be perfectly honest, I'm already sucked in.

The Fourth Date: We'd agreed to go for dessert at The Algonquin Hotel. He texted me earlier in the day to make sure we were still on for the evening and then surprised me by calling me and saying he'd pick me up in a cab--and acting quite nonchalant about it. When I first got in the cab, my first thought was to realize that this(?) was the guy I was all worked up about for a week? Seeing him made me think, "He's just a guy." Not in a bad way, just in a realistic way. My second thought was to realize that there was a bit of awkwardness in the cab--more on the "who are you and what are we doing" distance side of the spectrum than the "I'm so excited to see you" excited side of the spectrum. All that changed as we got a little cozier in the backseat.

At The Algonquin, we talked for two hours over a bit of chocolate cake as if we were old friends with terrible memories. I paid, since I'd invited him out, after all. And then he invited me back to his place to "watch the Olympics." After we spent some time not really watching the Olympics, I asked if he'd walk me home and he balked, but agreed to walk me downstairs and get me a cab. When we got downstairs I realized I was about three blocks from my apartment, so I said I'd just walk. "It's fine," I said. He said, "OK, let's go," and even though he was just in a sweater and it was snowing a little, he walked me home.

Diagnosis: For him: With mild prodding, he's definitely got potential.
For me: I don't think I've ever felt more comfortable on a date--with someone I was actually interested in. I've also developed a newfound fondness for the winter Olympics.

One of four things may happen (rated on a scale of 1 to 5 with 1 being unlikely and 5 being likely):

1. I'll never hear from him again (2)
2. He'll text me in a couple of days (4)
3. He'll call me (2)
4. I'll break down again and text him in a week (3, no, 2, although 1 would be more respectable)

Stay tuned...

Next in the #100 series: The Sound of Silence