Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.
If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.
"Go ahead, make my day."
Original Post Date, January 17, 2012
Okay, so I had my LAST date on Saturday. And not in a good “my last date…my last kiss cuz this is the one” kinda way. I’m just DONE.
We’ve discussed how shallow I am and how that usually ends up biting me in the ass when the pretty boys end up being jerks. I decided to go out with a really nice, educated, articulate, successful financial planner that really wasn’t my physical “type” but since chemistry can be so elusive anyway, I decided to give it a shot. He was 50, divorced with three young kids (again, I ask the question…where were these guys when I wanted kids 10 years ago??)
We decided to meet at a trendy pub on Saturday for lunch. I was anxious to check it out since I had never been there before and some friends said it was fun. Well, he got there before me and texted that it wasn’t open for lunch but that he would wait in the parking lot for me and we could go somewhere else. I pulled up to see a silver haired guy sitting in a ginormous SUV, tapping away on his iPhone.
He suggested that we head down the road to another bar and I got in his car. (I know. Stupid move. But I figured if anything happened to me, he could easily be found by all information I had gathered through my pre-date investigation of him).
He was nice but I didn’t really feel a connection which was probably best when he told me about his “still really angry” ex-wife who was a surgeon and had left him for a resident, only to have that guy leave her, too. Isn’t that how it always is? It sounded like he had way too much drama in his life and that he was looking for something more serious than I was anyway. It seems like all the men I meet are looking for their next wife and they don’t understand a woman who wants to casually date. By the end of lunch, he was telling me to “not take it personally, but you aren’t ready to date.”
Um, okay, Dr. Drew.
What the hell??
We had an interesting debate on that one and he asked me if I was a serial dater?? Wha??
We had actually made plans to do something after lunch but it was obvious to both of us that this date was over. I feel like I’m now acting like all the men I dated when I was in my 20’s and the guys are me. “Don’t you realize that I’m the best thing since sliced bread?”, they implore.
Driving back to my car, we had this conversation:
Ginormous SUV guy: “You know it was really…um…brave of you to get in a car with someone you don’t know.”
I gazed at him wistfully, “Yeah…maybe….”
“No, really. I mean, you don’t even know me.”
I turned to him and smiled, “It’s okay. I have a gun in my purse.”
He started to laugh but then I saw the look of fear and uncertainty flash across his face.
Go ahead, buddy, call me a serial dater again.