The Strong Silent Type

Trevor and I had emailed a few times, and after a brief phone conversation punctuated by blaring TSA announcements (I was at the airport) I agreed to meet him for a drink. He suggested meeting close to my office, which I really appreciated.

So far so good. He is considerate and willing to come to my hood.

I was running a few minutes late thanks to the fact that it was raining and I was riding my bike. Riding a beach cruiser while holding an umbrella is not as easy as you might assume. The fact that my bike is Hello Kitty themed provides a constant source of unbridled joy for me and helped quell my annoyance at the rain. After chaining my bike up at a completely unapproved location to keep her, yes, her, from getting too wet, I headed into the gastro-pub.

It was still early and the place wasn't even half full. Given that it was prime happy hour time this was surprising. But I figured this boded well for me since I couldn't quite remember what Trevor looked like and finding a dude sitting alone would be easier with fewer bodies in the way.

Oh crap. There are three dudes here alone. Or course I would pick this time to not revisit the profile of the guy I'm meeting to remind myself what he looks like. Alright... I know he has dark hair. Alright! Two out of three have dark hair. I know he is tall. They are sitting down so that is not helpful information. I know he is a cyclist. Would it have killed him to have worn spandex today? Or at least those funny clippy shoes they wear? Alright fine... if he had worn spandex or those weird shoes I would have fled.

Deciding to start with the guy closest to me I start making my way to his table. As I get closer he looks up and smiles. I smile back. Then notice that there is a purse hanging over the back of a chair at his table.

Alright... That's not him, unless he brought his Mom to chaperone. And that might be a little too Southern, even for me. 

So I faked like I was heading for the restroom and skirted around his table and behind the wall to the bathroom.

So, it must be bachelor #3. The one with his back to me. The least he could have done was sit on the other side of the table so he could flag me down as I came in and prevent my almost happy hour-ing with someone else. Hmpf!

"Hi! Are you Trevor?" I ask walking up to the table.
*Deer in the headlights stare* "Ummm, yeah. Are you Crigger?"
"Yeah! Nice to meet you." I say extending my hand. Who else would be coming up to your table, greeting you by name? "Sorry, I am running a bit late. I got tied up at work."
"It's okay. I just got here myself. Was work really busy?"
"Not too bad. I just got tied up at the end of the day. And I rode my bike down so I didn't have to hunt for parking. On my bike in the rain it always takes a bit longer."
"Oh you bike? I am on a cycling club."
"I don't really cycle. I am rolling around on a beach cruiser."
Awkward silence.
Ask him a question. Ask him a question! ASK HIM A QUESTION!!! 
"So you are an engineer?" I ask even though we have covered this during out phone call.
"Yeah. I used to do aero-space work, but my company was cutting back so I left before I was downsized. Now I work for a machinery company."
"I have a friend who works in the aerospace industry." I bet you two would have a lot to talk about. "What kind of machinery do you build or I guess design?"Really Crigger? At least I am acting interested.
"Refrigeration."
Alright... So we are down to one word answers. Awesome. Awesome.
"That's interesting. I don't know much about refrigeration, outside of HVAC equipment."
"Really? Do you work alot with mechanical systems?"

We then proceeded to talk about my job for a really, really long time. So long in fact that I was bored and wanted to leave. This is shocking on multiple levels. First, because I love my job and talk about it so much that other people tell me to put a sock in it. Secondly, I am only half-way through my Smith's Organic Cider and I love that stuff. I will usually throw down at least two! And third, this place has the best mac'n'cheese. Me wanting to leave without eating it is like buying tickets to the Rolling Stones, but only staying for the opening act.

Waaaaahnt. Waaaah.
Not a good sign.
Love is not in the air.

It isn't his fault. He is nice. Not unattractive, and he reminds me a little of Eddie Munster, and the 8 year old me kind of loves that.

He is just so quiet. It was like pulling teeth. I can certainly talk enough for the both of us, because let's face it. I am a talker! But I don't want to have to do all work! Pull your weight pal!

And he had no good stories to share. How is that possible?

Even on a bad date I usually hear at least one interesting personal tidbit. (i.e. I can lick my nose. I once skied down a hill backwards. My mom is actually a Persian princesses. I have a twin who looks just like me but is a robot.)

There were no such fun stories.   

Now I am not saying I have the best stories ever, but if I did say that it wouldn't be an overstatement.

Is it too much for me to expect my date to have a few good tales?

How do you survive online dating...?

Frederick and I had been trying to meet up for awhile. We had rescheduled our date once because I had double booked myself. Yes. I have done this twice in recent memory. I of course didn't tell him that. I blamed it on a work emergency. Luckily, he doesn't know enough about my job to know that emergencies are rare. And even more rarely do they actually affect me.

I really need a social secretary. It would simplify things.

We decided to meet on Sunday after he finishes playing golf in Aliso Viejo. He gives me call as he leaves the course and we agree to meet at Karl Strauss, a brewery, near the South Coast Plaza. I needed to run some errands over there and it is right off the 405, which he would be taking on his drive back to LA.

Plus, he wanted to eat since he had been playing golf and they have pretty decent food. I just wanted a drink since I had eaten like an hour earlier. And who doesn't want a drink after a round of golf?
Now hear is where I start to sound like an alcoholic...
So, anyway, the brewery seemed like a great idea.

Once seated at the brewery I asked the waitress for a sample of two of the beers and Fred ordered some food. When the waitress brought back the sample I drank half of the first one and offered it to Fred to try.

"No thanks. I don't drink."
I guess we have answered the question of who doesn't want a drink after a round of golf. Fred.
"At all?" I say flabbergasted,
"I used to be an alcoholic."
"Well I supposed a brewery was a poor choice." I say. Oh. My. Gosh. Can a date start off any more awkwardly? And why didn't you say something when I suggested a brewery?!? Do you think it's fun to watch the color drain from people's faces as they have, for lack of a better word, an "Oh crap!" moment?
"Just kidding. I wasn't really an alcoholic, but you were ready to run weren't you?"
"Well, not run... At least not out of the restaurant. That would be rude. But certainly ready to block your number. Why don't you drink?"
"Just never really got into drinking."
"Oh. Okay."

We chatted about the kind of nothing people talk about on first dates. To be honest, I'm not really sure what all we talked about because he changed topics and interrupted me so much that the conversation left me feeling like I'd been pinging around inside a pinball machine for an hour. I know we talked about skiing, how he used to live in New England, golf, and then some how we got on to the topic of past relationships.

Okay, not somehow. He asked me if I had had any long term relationships. What normal, non-psychotic 28 year old hasn't had at least one long term relationship?

And who asks this halfway into a a first date? Particularly one that is going as great as this one. Ummm, no thanks! I'm not really eager to open up that Pandora's box of flying howler monkeys. And I'm just talking about my own dating history. It is hard telling what kind of creatures will fly out of the other person's past. 

I explained my recent past as simply, and quickly, as I could.
"My ex boyfriend was selfish and never willing to compromise. The end. Good riddance to bad luggage." I said, figuratively dusting off my hands.

Then I got to hear about Fred's recent past. It wasn't anything bad or that caused alarm, but I just don't want to be talking about exes with someone who I don't actually see myself going on a second date with. Then in the middle of the conversation Fred was like, "Well do you want to go?"

Hmmm... That was awfully abrupt. But shew! He isn't that into me either! Good! Now we can part ways both pretending this awkward afternoon date at a brewery with someone who doesn't drink never happened.

Looking at my phone I realized it was 3:30 and I actually did need to get moving since I had several errands I needed to run. Big red flag. I would rather go pick up my dry cleaning and buy groceries than spend more time with you...

He walks me to my car, which is a nice gesture, though it doesn't really make up for his weak, half-attempt to pay for my beer. I half-hug him goodbye and  jump into GP and escape.

Yeah!

Or so I think.

While cruising the aisles of Trader Joe's I get a text message from Fred.

"I kind of got the vibe that you weren't feeling the situation, am I correct." His bad grammar. Not mine.
"Yeah... You are great, but you seem more like someone I would be friends with, not someone I would date." He said he liked honesty. He sure got it. He might change his mind about that...
"May I ask why? You said you have been out with several people who you wouldn't date but would be friends with."
Dear Lord... Since when did not wanting to date someone you go out with once turn into a crime?
"The no drinking thing is kind of an issue for me. I like going wine tasting and I want to open a bourbon distillery. I just didn't really feel like we clicked. I didn't get the impression you were that into me either"
"Clicked...?"
Who doesn't know what clicked means?
"And I am considering opening a bar. I'm not quite sure how the drinking matters? If I don't drink with you that's a problem? And I am very much into you. It was a first meeting so things can be hard to feel out."
Oh my gosh... How much more clear can I be? Does he need me to draw him a Venn Diagram so he can see where we don't mesh? Why do people say they want honesty when they really don't? 
"Like I said, you seem nice, but I'm just not sure we click. If it doesn't seem to work why waste each other's time?" I have four other guys with whom I actually see a future possibly developing. Why waste my time on you when I know it isn't going anywhere? That's just cruel.
"So one and done, that's it? That's your opinion based on a 20 minute conversation." It was closer to an hour and 20 minutes, but I'm going to let this slide since I just want this conversation to be OVER! As quickly as possible! "I feel like your opinion was already formed prior because you have nothing to base it on other than the no drinking. That's like saying this won't work because you're a vegetarian. Blabbity blah blah blah." He kept texting.  The blabbity blah blah is more interesting than what he said.
"Badgering me is really not the best way to get a second date."
"By no mean is it my intent to badger you. I was simply trying to make a point and find clarity in your decision."
Find clarity in my decision? This is a first date, not the end of a 20 year marriage. I'm just not feeling it buddy. Move on. Go swim up to another fish. There are a million single people swimming around out here! Go splash around in some other pool!
"Look. It was nothing you did or said I'm just not interested. You seem nice and fun, but I don't want to waste your time, or mine."
"This is where I am confused. It should be something. Did you not get a vibe from your ex that he was selfish?"
SERIOUSLY? You're going to bring up my ex right now? And no, he managed to hide that feature of his personality for a long time. 

This is where I quit trying to give him whatever closure he needed and stopped responding.

 The more I date, the more I realize there is a reason some people turn to online dating. Some people head online because they are new to an area (me), really busy with careers (me, Rex, John), have friends who have had good luck online (me again). 

Others end up here because they have no idea how to date and can't seem to understand why their tactics aren't working. I am sure Fred will tell his friends "She just didn't give me a chance." And maybe I didn't. But a second date, or a seventieth, wasn't going to make me feel any more of a spark. If it isn't there pretty quickly, it probably wont ever be. 

And I can say that pretty confidently after going on 16 first dates this year.  

I'm well on my way to 52!

The Crosby

I had rescheduled this date twice. Initially because I had double booked myself, and the second time I had too much stuff to do in preparation for going home to Criggapalooza. Sherlock had taken all this in a stride and was super flexible about me changing our plans at the last minute. Which was most appreciated!

Just so you know, I call him Sherlock because he attempted to guess my profession. When he was waaaaay off I told him not to change his name to Sherlock. Also, my profession is stated on Match.com, so he clearly isn't as observant as Dr. Holmes. But he does ride a bike to work so he must have some redeeming qualities, right?

The restaurant he suggested for dinner was literally two blocks from my house, and one I had been meaning to go to for some time now. He gets one point for choosing a place so convenient to me, not that he knew what he was doing. He didn't know I lived so close. When I arrived, Sherlock was waiting for me outside the restaurant and greeted me with a smile and a hug. Again with the hugging? What's wrong with a good ol' handshake? Maybe people think "This could be the person I'm going to marry. We should hug!"

He smelled like smoke. Yuck. Minus two points.
His profile says nothing about his being a smoker.
There are lots of things I can come to grips with. If he is a dog person I can adapt. If he is a Baptist, I'll overlook the flaw and insist we go to the Methodist Church. If he prefers rum to bourbon, we can stock both. If he likes to sleep in, perfect that means he won't be interfering with my gym time.
But a smoker?
That just won't work.
Not in this universe. Or a parallel one where everyone finds yellow teeth and a hacking cough sexy.
I have never been one to follow a fad.

So we settle in at our table and peruse the drink menu. Being that I am still in a Kentucky state of mind I settle on Liquid Swords, which is made with sweet tea, lemon and pomegranate. All things that remind me of home. Sherlock orders a Sapporo, and brings himself up to even earning another point because I spent alot of time drinking Sapporo in Japan. However, he quickly loses it by not knowing Sapporo is a city in Japan.

Back in the negative and the appetizer hasn't even arrived.

As we settle into our drinks and appetizer he tells me about his "baby", or his dog. Which on one hand is cute and on the other hand is kinda girly. He did say my old cat Krinkles sounded like a good cat so he has managed to recouped his lost Sapporo point. 

He's not wrong about Krinkles.
She. Was. Awesome.

Even.

As the evening continued he asked me about my job and then rolled his eyes as I started explaining it. He followed up the eye roll with, "I leave the lights on for my dog."

"You know dogs see four times better in the dark than humans, right? And they see best in low light." I say thinking, "Boy this is going well. He wastes energy for stupid reasons. If you left your lights on to fool burglars that's one thing... And eye rolling makes me want to punch people. And if you don't want to know about my job, don't ask!"

By now the point rankings are getting sad. The deficit just keeps growing.

He then starts to tell me about his job, which is marketing a high end health care center. And he loves his job, which is really refreshing since so many people don't seem to like what they do everyday. But he starts this conversation off by telling me that he and his friends from work got in trouble for having extravagant lunches.

Yes. Extravagant lunches. This is what people get in trouble for in Newport.

"We have a half hour meeting at 11:30 to decide what we want to order for lunch. And then we send the, I don't want to say peons, but the lower ranking guys, to go pick it up. Now they are getting mad that they aren't included."

Oh. My. Gawd. You have a meeting about what to eat for lunch? And then you order steak? Do you know it took 2,500 gallons of water to produce one pound of meat? Peons? Did you really just use that word...? And you leave people out. Now that's just not nice.

Watching the Master's does sound nice though.

It was all I could do to keep from banging my head on the table.

Eventually the talk turned to the south, Criggapalooza, which he said made him want to go to Kentucky, rightly so, and families. I told him about my small nuclear family and my massive extended family. When I dropped that my grandmother has 108 first cousins he responded with,

"So I guess it is true what they say about the South."
"Easy, buddy. Easy. We don't know each other well enough for that." I say thinking I have several redneck, Nascar loving, moonshine drinking, gun toting relatives that will be at your door if you keep up that crap...

And then I dropped the "I didn't have TV growing up."
"How did you relate to people?"
"Well, my friends didn't spend a lot of time talking about TV. We spent time playing outside. And it wasn't like I was forbidden to watch TV."
"There was a girl in my school didn't have TV. She was really weird though. And couldn't relate to people."
"That probably didn't have a lot to do with TV," I say. When has TV ever helped people relate to one another. Jerry Springer and Dr. Phil don't count.

The date ended without incident and we did, by and large, have a nice time. He isn't mean, conceited, or overly interested in telling me about himself. In fact he seemed really interested in me, my life, and who I am.

But I am fairly certain we don't see the world the same way.
Also, he looks like Philip Seymour Hoffman and that freaks me out.
Blame it on Doubt.

Mystery Date Part II

Turns out the Mystery Date Game is not just a fun way for little girls from the 1950s to pass a rainy afternoon. It is also a fun way for a twenty-something to pass a random Wednesday night.

Racking my brain after the unexpected call from Mystery-Man John (if you are unfamiliar with Mystery Man John see the previous blog post) I had come to the conclusion he was one of two people. The guy from OkCupid! who looks like a Japanese host in his profile picture or someone who it has been so long since I talked to them that OKCupid! deleted them from my queue...

In either case, not great odds.

FYI... For those of you unfamiliar with Japan, when you hear the word "Japanese Host" you might get an image of a geisha, or a sweet Mama-san that has opened up her home to you and your goofy gaijin (foreign) friends.

This is wrong.

A Japanese Host can be found standing outside of bars, clubs, and soap lounges trying to entice patrons to come into their lair. They usually have on a suit with no tie and the shirt unbuttoned down to their navel proudly displaying their non-existent chest hair and boney sternum. They usually have a hair style akin to the mullet that requires a straightening iron and at least three pounds of product to maintain its height.

Stop swooning ladies.

This Mystery Man Host is mine.

*Just to be clear this is not actually John's picture. Though it is frighteningly similar to the one on the website...

I am running late, as per usual, so there goes the plan of being early and letting him find me. I arrive about 15 minutes late and walk into the dimly lit bar. Luckily, the place has just opened so it is practically deserted. Scanning the room as my eyes adjust to the dark I see a handsome, dark headed man smiling at me.

So it is Japanese Host John, who incidentally and thankfully, doesn't look like a Japanese host in real life. Ahhh yes... our initial date a few weeks ago got canceled because he had the flu. Well, he certainly looks fit as a fiddle now.

"Hi Crigger. It's nice to meet you." He says hugging me.
As an aside: People on dating sites do hugging introductions a lot. Must be starved for human contact. I would be lying if I said it didn't weird me out. I don't really like to be touched by most people I know, let alone perfect strangers. If you are one of the people I hug, know this: You are special and have made the ultimate short list of people I like, also know as best friends. 
"I'm so sorry I was late. I tried to sneak in yoga and a run and there really wasn't enough time for both!" I say taking in his argyle sweater under a dark blazer and his very stylish, but non-Japanese Host hair. Nerdy cute. That's a good sign. I like nerdy.
"No, problem at all. Can I get you a drink?"
"Sure!"

After I got my Bulluit (yes they had Bulluit Bourbon at the bar!), we settled on to a couch and just chatted up a storm. We talked about work. He's a litigator. As soon as he said, "I'm a litigator" I heard Cher from Clueless say "Daddy's a litigator. Those are the scariest kind of lawyers." John doesn't seem too scary and he likes being a litigator, but told me my decision to not go to law school was the right one. Well duh... I am a great decision maker.

We talked about travel and those awkward moments that can only happen when you are in a foreign country. He told me about an awkward overnight stay in Korea and I told him about punching a guy in India who tried to kiss me. I think this was a wise move, it says, "Don't try anything on the first date buddy. I pack a punch." without actually having to say those words.

Two drinks and two hours later my coach was turning into a pumpkin so I said goodbye and departed. But not before he asked me out for a second date.

I'll be sure to let you know how it goes.