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Archive for the ‘Ofcourse he's a jew’ Category

I guess it is my fault for even considering him to begin with. There was something boyish and scruffy about him , something funny and snarky, something different, I guess. So, I made the date.

My first warning sign should have been the… You plan it and tell me when and where. Umm, no. You want to take me out… YOU plan it.

Then, in rapid succession came every reason and flaming red flag ever needed:

He works a job he isn’t passionate about yet he isn’t strategizing a next move. He’s content with mediocrity.

When I responded past a text of his with two other flirty texts later in the day, his response was to ask if I had Verizon, because he doesn’t have unlimited texts. Way to respond to a hot girl text flirting with you buddy.

The night before our date it became clear that he hadn’t considered planning it when he said, so I’m thinking Chinese cause of your allergy. Um, I can’t do Chinese… Other than pizza and beer it’s one of the worst choices for me. Then he says, well, how about Mexican? To which I respond that it can sometimes be okay but that he should just pick a place and call them and ask whether they can accommodate my allergy. Then, as if he isn’t listening, I realized his third choice  showed the bigger issue motivating his picks, he’s cheap. He chose a vegan/veg place that is really only known for their pizzas. I mentioned that vegan places use gluten as their meat substitutes and rely on bread and pasta as mainstays in the meal. “So, eat vegetables then.” That’s what he said. Hey, way to show a girl a good time.

At 33, he lives with his parents and couldn’t answer the question regarding his exit timeline and strategy.

So, dread dread dread. I cancelled a few hours before, with an excuse regarding work, because I felt it was kinder than the truth. In the end, his response was brilliant, for a man-child.  “That’s too bad, because I was looking forward to our date.  You ruined my day and I’m mad at you for it.” IF I had actually been caught up at work, he just secured himself supportive asshole of the year award and no chance in hell of a redo.

He reminded me of that Chris Elliot show Get A Life when he was a 30 yr old paper boy living above his parent’s garage. Perhaps our date would have ended with my finding out that he stole his dad’s car and was actually unlicensed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQolt4lI4wM

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Another great floodapalooza has hit New England and well, I haven’t posted in a while. I have issues with posting at the moment, it’s not that I haven’t gone out on some dates worthy of the type of attention they would have received pre Type Geek. It’s the snark, I can’t find it. I can’t seem to muster it like I did in the past. I just feel worn out and desnarked I guess. If only deskunking my dog was as easy. But let’s be frank, the last year plus of Type Geek wasn’t exactly easy. I don’t begrudge him that, really. I mean, in some sad little way, perhaps I pity him, because in the end, the cross he needs to bear is much heavier and much lonelier than mine. I offered to help carry it, as others in the past surely have as well, but he can’t see through his windows and past his own distorted mirror to see how much better life would be without that weight and self-inflicted injustice.

With that said, let’s sum up the last two dates I went on.

Date 1: Passive Aggressive Resent Man.

Prior to meeting Type Geek, I had conversed with PARM briefly. We talked about getting together and even set a date, Feb 13. Now, we didn’t actually go on said date because I believe something came up with me and I left him a message and said that I needed to cancel. ALTHOUGH, maybe back then there was a hint and I bailed because I thought that it wouldn’t work, I just don’t remember. So, over a year and a half later, post Type Geek, he says hi online, I say hi back. We agree to meet for dinner. He lives in New Hampshire, but works near me, so … we meet up. In the course of 2 hours… each time one of us uses the rest room or goes to do something, he says “oh, you are still here” or “oh, you came back”. First time, cute. 4th time, makes me think you are not so awesome.  Sure, his mom was GREAT at the deep Jewish guilt and apparently he learned a bit in return. Add to that the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and oh yes…5th time he brought up that I stood him up on February 13th, 2010…but added in, each time, that he wasn’t upset about it, really. Hmm. Really. Guess what, I don’t feel guilty.

Date finally comes to a close and he offers a ride home. He’s really meek and harmless, so I agree. You know how I am odd and don’t love brown shoes with black pants? Sneakers with jeans? Oyster slurpers? Ok, please add on men (or really anyone) that drive white cars. I think it’s silly. White cars are almost worse than red for attention, and they get filthy, so they are super high maintenance. Telling me that your white car cost $60k. Sigh. Lastly, vanity plates?! He had a vanity plate. I can’t say what it was, cause that gives away too much, but I will say this… it was the equivalent of a little boy playing with his Matchbox cars. I’m not sure whether it would have been better, the same, or worse, if he had a vanity plate that said… “vrrr-oooom”. Get what I am saying? Good. So, we haven’t talked since and that was weeks ago. I think we can finally close that page and probably assume that I knew better on Feb 13, 2010, but somehow forgot over time.

Date 2: Last Minute Meh

He was a nice Asian guy… nice. Nothing that really amazed me or moved me, but agreeable and nice. Black car, non athletic shoes that matched his clothing, didn’t smell like sour fermented baby, and has a decent career doing something he decently enjoys. The date was last minute, we were both online, both hungry and bored. We ran an errand together on our way to go grab sushi. Felt like friends, haven’t gotten together since, even though we did the blanketed response of yeah sures. I’m not interested enough to bother. Nothing against him, but he’s just a different cup of tea than what I prefer.

That’s the up to date on all recent dates.

I did however re-sign up for Match and out of bitter annoyance at the service because the first match it came back with…was Type Geek….grrrrrrumble, I agreed to let my friend MidCenturyMuppit set me up with a friend. That, in and of itself was funny enough. Then I find out she has typecast me and I’m now going out with another 5’8 bald former pro bass player who is divorced. Awesome. She laughed at the typecasting. I found it mildly annoying, but I adore her, and so far, he is pretty funny. We are going on tomorrow. I have no clever name for him yet. He has a young daughter and lives an hour a way. If these are the worst of his complications, after a year and a half of Type Geek’s, I think I will be fine.

 

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It’s funny, meeting someone in person whom you have been virtual friends with for over a year. Nearly 13 months of sexual tension and in person, we are comfortable pals, yet beyond that, perhaps not much else. Internet Skype boy was having a weekend of bad reactions to some new migraine meds which ironically were causing low drive issues. The irony does not sneak past me here. I wanted a weekend of unbridled carefree fucking after 11 months of loving someone who had low sex drive issues and low interest issues. Nonetheless, we did have sex on Friday night, but the first time you fuck anyone is odd, grooves not found, rhythms not synced, and so I extended my trip one more night, to see whether things could line up more.

In between my first and last night… Parisian Macarons from BisousCiao. in flavors like Sour Cherry, Champagne Cocktails from Bubble Lounge and strolls through the Bowery. Apple Cider from The Union Square Greenmarket, naps on $7,000 couches at The Conran Shop, viewings of Time Bandits, and jokes about how I have lost my NYC street cred after ten years away.

So, how was the sex, second go around? It’s different. It’s not Type Geek. I was detached, yet forced to be present because of the sensation of fucking someone much larger than your previous partner. We fucked, it was fine. It was the punctuation, the ending to my one-sided relationship with a man I loved who couldn’t give anything except the occasional dinner, concert or overnight snuggle. Until there was sex with someone else, there was always just going to be Type Geek in my rearview mirror. After Skype boy and I fucked, after he washed up and went to bed, I laid there. The only night I was unable to relax and sleep. I missed Type Geek, even the small amount that I had him, the small amount that snuck through without him seeing it cozy up to me. I couldn’t help but wonder, has he thought of me at all since he saw me last. Did he ever miss me or was I unable to imprint myself even that much on him. I know it isn’t a reflection on me, it is merely a reflection on him and his bigger deeper issues, but nonetheless, I feel the loss and miss the him that I knew in those dark quiet hours between dusk and dawn.

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