The Most Awkward Date Ever

We met for coffee after work, one of the most benign scenarios I could conjure. I only agreed to meet him because he'd cut right through all of that emailing-back-and-forth song and dance that is apparently "the process" of online dating and just simply came out with, "Your profile looks interesting. Meet for coffee?" Thank you for your directness; to reward you: yes. Besides, he seemed marginally interesting. PhD candidate, didn't look like an insane creeper in any of his photos, and didn't throw off any inherent red flags like, "Married," or "Sex Offender."

Side note: last summer was the one and only time in my life I attempted online dating, and I did so primarily out of curiosity, and because I was encouraged by friends who thought I would get some good story material out of it. Apparently, I did. I didn't write about it at the time, however, partially because I was still psychologically rattled by it (see story below) and partially because I lived in fear of one of the dudes somehow stumbling across my blog and reading scathing commentary. At this point, it's been a year, I think statute of limitations is up on that.

So, this guy was new in town and asked for a suggestion of where we should meet, stating that he didn't know the area very well. I suggested a date and venue, he accepted, game on. I met him there after work, and he was sitting, sort of defeated-looking, on the steps outside. Not a great first impression. Apparently, the place I had suggested was closed. This, apparently, had thrown him entirely off. Or so I thought at the time. Perhaps he was the kind of person who becomes rattled when wrenches are thrown headlong into plans. I could understand that, to a certain extent.

"OK, well, do you have any ideas of what you'd like to do instead?" I asked. And in that split 10-second window where we both realized the plans would have to change, I engaged in the sin of Instant Judgment.

The guy just STARED at me. Not in any nice, flattering kind of way. In a blank, passive, "please tell me where to go" kind of way. Lights were out.

Now, granted, this guy was new in town. So, a little forgiveness was in order for him not knowing where to go. But my main concern was this: within the span of a minute of meeting this guy, he had already proven himself to be Not A Problem Solver.

Which is a huge problem.

Jaunt once used that phrase, "Not a problem solver", to describe a co-worker whom she had correctly ascertained within moments of meeting that he would do nothing but create more work for her. Non-Problem Solvers are the bane of any workplace, let alone romantic dating situation. You can't do for yourself--don't expect me to, either. I've got enough on my plate without having to worry about you, too.

So, this dude had already identified himself as a Non-Problem Solver, which was a huge strike mark in my book. I have dated, worked with, and in general interacted with infinite numbers of Non-Problem Solvers, and I do not play nice with these people. My patience is very quickly stretched very thinly if I have to do too much for you, and that includes thinking.

Still, I had agreed to the date and was willing to let the awkward moment pass and even going so far as to assume that, perhaps, I may have rashly judged him. Perhaps he was simply thrown off and needed some time to recover. Dates are weird anyway. Let's all give ourselves a break.

I located a new venue, we went inside, and the Non-Problem Solver proceeded to make the next five minutes of my life excruciating as we were faced with the daunting and overwhelming prospect of "Seat yourself."

Don't just stand there and look at me. And when I ask you where you'd like to sit, don't just shrug. If you really don't care, then just sit somewhere. Don't stare at me, waiting for me to run down the list of possibilities, and passive-aggressively shrugging at each one.

Finally, I just sat. Thankfully, he followed suit.

At this point, I had already made up my mind that this was going to be a "coffee only" date. I couldn't imagine breaking bread with this dude, and the thought of watching him roll through menu options seemed overwhelming. It was difficult enough when the server provided us with two options on coffee. You'd have thought she'd said, "Columbian Fair Trade, French Roast, Ethiopian Harrar, French Vanilla, Turkish, Guatamalan, or espresso?" Instead, she said, "Decaf or regular?" I thought his brain would explode, working overtime.

It got worse.

If there's anything worse than a wishy-washy Non-Problem Solver, it's a Non-Conversationalist. I wish I had somehow recorded the interaction, but, as it's burned painfully into the recesses of my mind for all time, I'm fairly certain that what is written below is an accurate representation of what panned out over the next fifteen minutes of hell.

"So, you're new to Baltimore, where are you from?"

"St. Louis."

"Oh, nice. How do you like Baltimore so far?"

"It's alright."

"Ok, and, um, how long have you been here?"

"About three months."

"Ah. And your family is...still in St. Louis?"

"My parents are. My brother's in DC."

"Oh that's cool, so you have a relative nearby."

"Yeah."

"Do you see your brother often?"

"Here and there."

"Ah. And, um, is he older or younger?"

"Older."

"Ok. Cool."

Awkward silence.

"So...um...do you have any hobbies? Your profile said you were into music."

"Yeah, I like music."

"What kind?"

"Pretty much everything."

"Have you...been to any shows recently?"

"Not really, been really busy this semester."

"Oh. So, you're getting a PhD in music, that sounds interesting."

"Yeah, it's pretty nice."

"Do you want to teach?"

"I guess."

"So, just...music you're into? Any other hobbies?"

"I run sometimes."

"Me too! I have a 5k this weekend, actually! Do you run races?"

"No."

"Oh. So, where do you like to run?"

"At the gym."

At this point, I'd drank about four cups of coffee. Because I didn't know what to do with myself. I was that bored. He was volleying back one word answers, not asking a single question about me or seeming to generate any interest in this date whatsoever. Which is why what happened next shocked me.

There was another very long, awkward pause during which he simply stared at me. Again, not in an "I'm intrigued" or even an "It puts the lotion on it's skin" sort of way. In an empty, glassy-eyed, almost serene sort of way. Whatever was going on in his head (which I imagined to resemble a lava lamp in doctor's office colors) was so damn Zen, I speculated if he even had a heartbeat.

And no, he was not under the influence of anything. Believe me, it would have been far more entertaining.

And then he said: "So, you want to get some dinner or something?"

Whoa, dude.

You just sat there and fed me one-word answers for fifteen minutes. I cannot imagine spending any more time with you than I already have and, in fact, I'm so bored with this conversation that I want to cry. I would rather be waiting at the MVA or on hold with customer service. Those are infinitely more interesting activities than this date.

And so, forgive me, but I pulled a Bitch Move.

A mature, responsible, Zen adult would have said something like, "Thank you, but I believe I'll pass. I have enjoyed talking with you, but I am not feeling a connection here. It was very nice meeting you, and best of luck in Baltimore."

Instead, I panicked. I sort of fumbled around in my bag for awhile and produced my phone.

"Oh, um, look, um, I have a text from, uh, my friend and, um, I need to go pick her up."

Horrible behavior.

I couldn't get the two dollars for my coffee out of my bag fast enough, and I was nervously spewing forth verbal diarrhea the entire time.

"So, this was awesome, and, yeah, I'm so sorry I have to go, um, but yeah, maybe we can, you know, do this again and maybe the place won't be closed, ha ha, or you know, whatever...."

"So I should email you?" he asked, and suddenly sounded so hopeful that I felt horrible. This kid was new in town, he was clearly lacking in outgoing social skills, and his first online date was making up excuses to leave after a twenty minute coffee date that had to be at least slightly awkward for him and was downright painful for me.

And, because I am a glutton for punishment and, at times, a push over who cannot find it anywhere in her being to be rude or straight forward or even honest in certain social situations, I stupidly said, "Oh yes, totally, definitely."

WHY DO I DO THAT?

I couldn't leave the place fast enough. I think I burned rubber on my tires pulling out of the parking space. My brain felt so numb from trying to carry on a one-sided conversation that I couldn't even turn the radio on during the drive home. It was so excruciating that I went home, stormed up to my room, slammed the door, and proceeded to lie in the dark for an hour until my brain had cleared.

This is what's out there, I reasoned. This is what I have to look forward to. It was an incredibly depressing moment, thinking that the rest of my adult life might be sprinkled with painful dating situations like that one. I began to climb the ladder of doom and gloom, imagining endless coffee dates with strangers who would simply stare at me and offer nothing to the conversation.

Thankfully, that was the most painful date I'd ever experienced. They got better, I got more discerning, and I canceled my online dating account reasoning that I do better with people in person than scrolling through a catalog of men that might sound good on paper but offer little to the real world, or at least to me.

He did email me, a few weeks later, but thankfully it was only to ask if I knew of any decent running trails in the county. I sent him a website with a map, wished him the best, and blissfully blocked his profile.

Life Gets in the Way

So, I haven't updated in awhile. This is probably not news to you.

I think every blogger goes through cycles of writing (well, every WRITER goes through cycles.) Jaunt, for example, has apparently been so busy since March 4, 2010 she has failed to update. Snap fell off the face of the earth when she moved to San Francisco in December 2009, as evidenced by her last blog posting.

Lee is usually pretty good about updating, and slyly threw into his latest post the fact that he is engaged.

Yes, that happened. Lee is engaged to a girl I once casually referred to as "some med student," except she's not a med student at all, but some sort of....microbiologist? Neurologist? Lobotomist? I think I will settle for "Science-ologist." NOT to be confused with a "Scientologist," because she is not. But, rather, my invented term, "Science-ologist," for people who are smart, wear lab coats, do experiments, and know things like "science," and "math," and "facts."

I am happy to say that I had a hand in introducing Lee to his fiance (technically, they met through trivia, but another friend and I set them up at a party in the fall of 2009) and even happier to say that I think she's completely awesome.

I've digressed here.

None of this has anything to do with my lack of updating, except to say that I've been busy. In my attempt to fight off the usual winter lag that takes over me this time of year, I've made sure to draw the distinction between "down time" and "I've-been-on-the-couch-for-three-days-under-a-pile-of-blankets time." It's easy to fall into that mindset in winter, I've found.

So, instead, it's been all maintenance runs and cooking dinners for friends and work these days. Which is just fine by me. The weather outside is frightful- keeping busy is so delightful. Ugh. I just said that.

Is it spring yet? No? OK, then I've got to fill up my schedule until it's time to go kayaking again.

Well Hello There, 2011!

"2010 was a...'Rebuilding Year'," Jaunt said to me last night. It came out with a mix of affection and exhaustion with a slight pause to emphasize that, for all of us it seems, 2010 was a bit of a tornado that picked us up and dropped us off in some entirely different location then where we started the year. Some of us a little more scathed then others, but mostly in one piece.

To call it a "Rebuilding Year" is entirely accurate and, because it's Jaunt, it's also a quite intelligible and poetic way of referring to said tornado. I've felt more change in the air- with friends, family, and the world at large. Change is riddled with difficulty, excitement, and a certain degree of learning when to dig your heels in and when to simply let go and allow the winds to whip you as they will.

In 2010, I went to New Orleans and helped rebuild a little corner of it. I started running and completed 4 5ks and the marathon relay. I started a new job with a nonprofit whose work makes me proud and is fulfilling to me in a way I didn't know a career could be. I got simultaneously angry at the state of affairs in this city that's become my home and elated that there is change happening on so many levels to address things. I went back to one of my favorite past times- kayaking, and explored waterways in Annapolis, the Eastern Shore, and Gun Powder. I reconnected with some old friends, made some new ones, and had more fun with my big band of merry girlfriends then really should be legal.

And I watched change in my friends too. I watched broken hearts and new beginnings, big moves, engagements, break-ups, marriages, pregnancies, new jobs, sicknesses and healths. I've started paying more attention to these things, realizing that our problems are shifting as we are all getting older. The things that are most important to you begin to change over time, and the things that bothered us in the past begin to fall away a little easier with these shifts in priorities.

And 2011? Well, if 2010 was the "Rebuilding Year," then perhaps 2011 is the year to experiment with our new selves. Test the steadiness of the foundation, feel the strength of new roots. Shift the focus away from the skeletons we've been building and start to flesh out the aesthetics a little more. Begin to move around and enjoy the fruits of our labors. Face new issues, build stronger safety measures, and perhaps use some of our newfound architecture as a launch pad.

I don't really have any grandiose resolutions- aside from the fact that I intend to train for and run the half-marathon in October- but I do promise to go a little easier on myself. After so many years of breaking and bending and testing, I want to live 2011 a little more comfortably in my own skin. Don't we all?

Cheers, 2011.

Canceled

I canceled all of my online dating profiles awhile back, in an uncharacteristically quiet and drama-free sweep of cleaning some clutter out of my life. But I've recently found myself in conversations in various venues where I've started opening up about the whole online dating thing: why I did it in the first place, the successes (0) and failures (multiple), and why I am no longer a proponent of it PERSONALLY but can see how it might work out for some people in general.

In order to understand my reason for canceling the profiles, I guess I should first state my reasons for signing up in the first place. They are, in this exact order:
1. For interesting stories.

2. To meet men in Baltimore that:
a) are not someone I've already dated
b) are not friends with someone I've already dated
c) are not currently dating or have ever dated any of my friends
d) do not frequent the same places I do thus raising the chances of awkwardness (I like a little geographical separation, if only from one neighborhood to another)
e) have tastes/interests/hobbies similar to mine.

I'm not going to regale you with stories of some of the creepsters who sent me hilarious, sad, ridiculous, and sometimes downright pervy emails. We all know they're out there, and it's a stale story that (SHOCK! SURPRISE! AWE!) there are people with less-than-average social skills crawling online dating websites. To be fair, there are people with less-than-average social skills also crawling the bar scene. They're just sometimes a little easier to spot on-line.

I will say this: it's too much information. Pulling up someone's profile and seeing all their deets in black and white, perusing their interests/hobbies/family structures/pet peeves and getting all of this information upfront is definitely one way of weeding out individuals. The power of information is not to be belittled. I sure as hell don't want to meet up with the guy who has publicly posted on his profile the fact that he got a vasectomy at 21 to avoid contributing to the overpopulation of the earth. More power to you, Dude- you weed through a substantial population of females who might want to think about procreating someday that way. And I'm not particularly interested in striking up a conversation with a hardcore right-wing Republican who attends anti-choice rallies on weekends.

But all of this works against you as well. I've been on so many dates with guys who, on paper, are my Gemini twin: same likes, dislikes, upbringing, wants, desires, views of the world. And I meet them in person and, I've discovered, having 500 things in common with someone is absolutely no guarantee of any chemistry, spark, physical attraction, or even that you'll LIKE this person. I'm well aware that one of my most insufferable habits is correcting peoples' grammar. I get this trait from my mother (who emails me when there are errors in my blog- which I have learned to love to hate.) I don't need to date someone who has this similar burning desire for grammatical correctness. It would drive me insane. I also don't need to date a guy who loves Chick Lit. Some interests are mine, should be mine alone, and are not for sharing.

And, in my day, I've fallen for guys who are virtual opposites of me in every way. It's just a matter of what works and what doesn't and no online dating profile is going to give you that particular stat upfront.

Mostly, thought, there was something very significant lacking for me with online dating, and this was the thrilling sense of an organic situation arising out of chance meeting. There is something so very intoxicating about dating that derives from everyday or random situations. Whether it's suddenly seeing a friend in a different light, or chancing into an unparalleled conversation with a stranger at a bar, or having someone answer your Craigslist ad for a roommate and subsequently dating this individual for three months thereafter. It's all about the story.

I'm not saying there's no magic to be had in online dating. I know so many people for whom it's worked out, but I just never had any luck with it and, after awhile, I started getting annoyed with it. It was one more thing to check, one more set of emails to weed through, and one more spot of homework to be done in my otherwise busy life. Then there was the attempt to set up dates. Apparently it's a pretty big turnoff when you say to a guy, "I'm pretty busy this week and next- could we meet for coffee three weeks from Tuesday?"

So maybe I wasn't really all that committed to the process to begin with. I mostly signed up out of curiosity, really. And for the stories, of course.

Example: Record for shortest date- 25 minutes. I spent 1 minute sizing up the situation and the next 24 wondering how long I had to stay before it wouldn't seem so completely rude to leave. One cup of coffee later, I was out the door dropping the totally lame coup de grace of "Oh, my friend just texted me...she needs me to pick her up." Even I was ashamed. But this date was literally painful. We had absolutely nothing to talk about, and there were actually long periods of silence where we just sort of stared at the floor or the ceiling. We couldn't even grasp at straws and talk about news headlines. It was THAT. BAD.

Mostly, though, I've found that I vastly prefer to spend my time in the company of friends and doing things that I actually like doing as opposed to going to dinner/drinks/coffee/whatever with strangers. Perhaps if I were older and had been single for longer it would be different, and I would be more interested in meeting new people online. But, for now, I'm pretty happy with where things are and much more interested in meeting someone organically as a result of all of this time spent doing things I actually like doing.

Although I have some damn good stories. Saving it for the novel that I'm going to write someday. There's a statute of limitations on certain things.

Embarrassing Groceries

Yep.

Nothing like catching the eye of the guy behind you in line at the grocery store, realizing it's that guy from high school who wasn't hot at the time but suddenly became some sort of hot emo rocker that you know is most likely bad news but you feel might just possibly be at least somewhat solid because, technically, you've known him for over ten years so he can't be totally bad news so maybe you should say hi and.....

...then you realize you're buying a stack of Lean Cuisines and ten thousand cans of cat food. And toilet paper. Oh, let's not forget that.

Yep.

Nothing like being embarrassed about your groceries.

Seat's Taken

What keeps you going isn't some fine destination,
but just the road you are on and the fact that you know how to drive.
-Barbara Kingsolver

Not That You Should Compare Your Life To Mine....

....but Glitterati has been having wayyyyyyyyyyy too much fun as of late.

There are times when I wish I could still be all gossssssssssipy boooooozehound on this site and dish on all the delicious details, but.....those days are gone.

Rest assured, however, that fun is being had. Ohhhhh is it ever.

I think in Glitterati Land, the rate of funness is directly proportional to the usage of excess letters in normal words.

Fuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.

Because There Is No Better Company Than Yourself....

Witchcraft

Last night found me on the couch with an ice pack on my shin and a warm compress on my face.

I am attempting to fight two different wars on two entirely different fronts: shin splints and ANOTHER sinus infection.

Because I can't stand the thought of subjecting myself to another round of antibiotics, I've decided to go holistic this time. Which means chugging a glass of water with 2 TBS of apple cider vinegar 3x per day (gag), eating boat-loads of garlic, inhaling a bucket of steam every half hour or so, warm compresses, hot showers with the water running directly onto my face, and pretty much any other method of breaking up this congestion and getting the crap out of my head. Believe it or not, all of these things work.

The trouble is, as always, "user error." These methods do work, and in ways far more conducive to overall healing then blasting your poor body with a Z-pack (which is like blasting an ant hill with a hand grenade), but they are time-consuming, sometimes expensive, and require diligence. I spent the greater part of last night transitioning between icing my shin on the couch (20 minutes on, 20 minutes off) and sticking my face in a pan of steaming water.

I also spent last night out-geeking myself. I freaking love crossword puzzles and documentaries. So what's not to love about a documentary ABOUT crossword puzzles? (One of the things I love the most about being single is the ability to Netflix whatever I choose without comment.)

So, icing and steaming to keep this body from falling apart. Have to take a couple of days off of running as well. The shin splint in my right leg is getting out of hand, and I'd rather take a couple days off now then an entire month later.

In other news: Artscape tonight! And how convenient that the Charm City Drinkulator--I mean Circulator--has a stop a couple blocks from my house? Artscape is fantastic. An incredibly eclectic mix of Baltimore's best, amazing artists and live performances (Cold War Kids!), beer gardens and block parties and all of the things that make Baltimore street festivals fun and interesting.

In the mean time: steaming and icing. Have to be in tip-top shape for summer daytime drinking-out-of-doors.