Just One More Hint

By some miracle--oddly enough we met at a church function--I managed to have a date agree to see me again after the initial date. Even more odd was the fact that she returned my phone call after date two. Never one to prematurely get excited, I started calling churches and banquet halls to book a date for the impending nuptials. I figured I could surprise her on date five. No one expects that.

My soon-to-be wife was occupied the weekend after our second date, but we made plans to do something when she returned. I seized this opportunity to sample cakes and catering offerings. We made plans over texts and set a time and place for the pick-up. Little did she know I also picked a time, place, caterer and cake. If I've learned anything from TLC's Cake Boss, it's always go with fondant.

Wearing my going out clothes (I have been asked at least three times in the past month when meeting someone after work, "You wore that to work?), I cruised toward the city after work to a foreign land: Third Datesville.

I stopped at a florist on my way in, only to discover that it was closed. The adjacent building was a funeral shop. I thought better of checking out their options. Had I known what would happen in a mere 24 hours, it might have been the proper shop. I arrived at my date's maison, parked and started a Quixotic quest on foot for flowers. Finding few offerings, I stopped into an Italian bakery and picked-up a few cookies. Pulling a page out of every travel show, I asked the cute cashier if she knew of anyplace to get flowers. She suggested a place down the street. With cookies in hand I was again greeted by a closed sign in the florist window.

I returned to her street and informed her that I had arrived. She invited me into her apartment and we discussed dinner options and movie times. Off we went. Dinner went well. A quick check of the time on my mobile prompted a rapid flagging of our waitress for the check. I gave her my card and mentioned we were trying to catch a show across the street. My date left the tip and we darted across the street hand-in-hand in the light rain to the cinema.

We missed the trailers and very beginning of The Hangover but settled into our seats and the newly-dating-couple-cuddle. Nothing is as comfortable as a cupholder in the ribcage. But it was well worth it. During the movie my date popped a piece of gum in her mouth and gave me a piece. I know what this meant. I either had dank breath or someone might like to do something later.

After some laughs and the credits, we leisurely walked back to my car and exited the garage with the other movie goers.

I parked on the street and walked her back to her place. We stood outside for a little while and talked. This, for those keeping score at home, was the proper time. All the signs of interest were there. Plus, I liked her and have seen Hitch. I knew what the key fumbling was a good thing. But did I do what I should have and wanted to? Of course not. I'm not sure if it's shyness, timidity or stupidity. All I know is it needs to stop. Settling on a hug, we embraced and then parted.

I texted her in the morning. My phone rang late that night. Seeing her name, my heart beat a little faster. Finally, I thought, I've found a sweet girl to date. After discussing our days there was a pause. Then this:

"I want to be honest," she said before pausing.

I thought proposing over the phone was a bit forward, but she must have found out about my event planning.

She continued, "I don't think we should continue dating."

Not where I thought she was going with that stellar lead-in statement. More surprising than Jackson's death being ruled a homicide, I shared my confusion. Every indication was that things were going well. Which leads me to my coping mechanism:

4 Reasons for No Date 4:

1. The cookies weren't that good.
2. I didn't bring flowers.
3. I failed to seize the opportunity to kiss her.
4. She's seeing someone else.

She did attempt to cushion the blow by telling me that I'm very nice, funny. Then she paused and opted to add "tall" as one of my selling points. I told her to go on after she struggled to come up with three things. I then told her to tell her friends how nice, funny and tall I am. She said she had. From now on I'm instituting a referral policy. If you opt to discontinue going out with me, you are obligated to set me up with a friend. And not one you want to rid yourself of.

As the conversation wound down and no explanations volunteered, I asked, "So...we won't be going out this weekend?"

More than the rejection, I'm upset about the deposits. That shit is non-refundable.

The Revolving Door of Romance

Growing up in a house with two women and trying to have some semblance of a dating life has led me to know one thing: I will never know or be able to predict the actions of a woman. While there are multiple eccentricities of women, the most recent discovery is that no two women are the same, unless you count avoiding my phone calls a desirable character trait.

Since my last writing there have been a few new dates. I had a revelation a few weeks ago to stop dating hoping to meet someone nice. Instead, my motivation in dating was to generate fresh fodder for this blog and the stand-up routine I keep telling myself that I'll do, someday. Soon. Just not tomorrow, I have a date then.

This new strategy, coupled with the "play the field" approach, have been supplying me with a steady stream of nut jobs. Unfortunately, when meeting people online, pursuing multiple people simultaneously is necessary. Plus when you go on as many one-and-done dates as I do, you need to have a few ladies lined up for the following week. I'd prefer it not to be this way, but such is my plight.

A few weeks ago, I agreed to meet a woman in the city for a drink. I live and work in the suburbs, which translates to a drive of at least 30 minutes depending on the variable traffic patterns, which also don't follow any form of reason. Going home after work to get cleaned-up, I then headed off to the city to see if this time things would be better. As a fan of baseball and childhood collector of baseball cards, I appreciate one of the beauties of online dating. People's profiles are like trading cards. They have all their stats, height, eye color, birth order, turn-ons/offs. For some reason they always leave off weight and whether or not they are worth your time...

This girl, who I referred to as "Giant" around the office, was 6'2" sans shoes. I'm 6'1" with shoes and if I pick my white man fro out. The appeal was largely to see what it would be like to be lil spoon. I should mention that the week before I met a girl for lunch who was 4'11". As I continue to date on the fringes of the genetic pool, I wonder when I'll ever get to go out with a member of Barnum & Bailey's Circus. While attractive, Giant wasn't what some would call talkative, affable or polite. During the hour-long date, she took two calls from her roommate whose grandmother died the previous night. Had she not taken these calls I wouldn't have known she had the ability to speak. I was thinking I would get some sort of bonus points for dating a mute giant. Subsequently, after Giant finished her beer and second phone call she informed me that her roomie needed her. She galloped the entire ONE BLOCK back to her apartment and avoided any pleasantries. Nice try on the excuse, but she lost points on creativity. If you're going to bail on a date, at the very least be creative. Say you have a turkey in the oven or that you simply can't miss this week's episode of Gossip Girl.

Jump ahead to this week, when I lined up a dinner date with a girl in the 'burbs. After speaking a few times on the phone and casual texting, it was time for the face-to-face. In our chats, she expressed difficulty navigating around town. After arriving at the restaurant, I received a call that la fille was lost. Thankfully she found her way. When I met her, I presented her with a small compass. She laughed and tucked it in her purse. We ate and closed down the restaurant. After walking around the downtown area of the suburb, I walked her to her car and went on my way. She didn't take any calls, so I thought it went well comparatively.

Shortly after arriving home, I received a text thanking me for dinner and saying that she had a good time. Since I'm rational, I perceived this as a sign of interest. I texted back in the morning saying that I wasn't sure when I'd be free this weekend, but that I'd like to see her again.

While helping my sister pack up her kitchen after work and my last swim class, I received another text. This time, it informed me that while she had a good time she didn't feel a spark. And isn't that what meeting in person is all about?

When meeting people online, men don't meet to see if there's a spark. Men meet women to see if they look anything like their profile picture.

Shortly thereafter, I got another text that she hoped I wasn't offended and that I'm a really nice guy.

This may come across as bitter or not what a nice guy would say, but what she failed to realize is that I was making concessions and thought I'd give her another shot. Typically, I like my ladies to have finished college, have some sort of ambition, and not make grammatical errors or grave misspellings.

So, as another person promptly exits Andrew's Dating Emporium, two more take her place.

The only people who find what they are looking for in life are the fault finders.
- Foster's Law

My Threesome with Jesus

God, if you’re reading this, I’ll tell you all about it at confession. Forgive me father for what I’m about to write.

I should say upfront that I consider myself faithful and religious. I go to church on a quasi-regular basis and sing along while there. I draw the line at clapping. Faith has gotten me through some tough times and decisions—and by tough I don’t mean choosing which car to take to work or whether to wear khakis or chinos (always chinos).

But recently, I had a first date with a girl who knew Jesus. We had met through Match and had emailed a bit before agreeing to meet at the epicenter of first dates: Starbucks. She, a self-proclaimed coffee snob, and I, a coffee virgin, were destined for greatness.

Over an obscenely large white mug of French-pressed java we discussed all the requisites: siblings, life goals, swing dancing, jobs, music and YouTube. The date seemed to be going well, after all it started with a handshake. The turning point may have been when I said I was Catholic. Similar to a former date’s disappointing discovery that despite tripping her Jew-dar, I wasn’t, in fact, Jewish, my coffee date was likely crestfallen to find we didn’t attend the same services.

Three times during our outing, she had mentioned she wasn’t looking for anything serious. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t looking for a random hookup either. While waiting for the cock to crow, I was wondering why she felt obliged to say this. The conversation was polite and genial—I abstained from asking if we were going back to her place after, you know, to pray.

I find this assumption bothersome and a bit arrogant. It supposes that I’m enthralled with her and ready to skip past GO and collect a wedding license. I can see how this girl may have gotten that impression after I had dropped to a knee to tie my shoe and had asked “Will you…[pause]…get me some more sugar?”

After closing down Starbucks, I walked her to her car, received my goodbye handshake and went on my way. I had texted her later in the week to see how she was doing and she responded something about working. A few days later I called and left a voicemail simply asking how classes and work were going. A little later I received this text message:

Hey. Got your voicemail. I don’t think I’m ready for this whole Match thing. Best of luck with everything.

All I asked was how she was. While I do appreciate the response, this bothers me for a few reasons:

• Why the hell is she on a dating site?
• Again with the assumptions.
• Who said I wanted anything more than friendship?

This is the second time I’ve heard this crap excuse. I have previously admitted that whether or not a woman responds or concocts a bogus excuse, there will be some level of animosity that accompanies rejection. I prefer a response to no response but claim that I want honesty. So far, I’ve heard that my previous one-and-done dates didn’t have time to date or simply weren’t ready. Given that I’ve met most of these people through dating sites on the internets, I don’t accept these excuses as valid. Just tell me you have to wash your hair indefinitely.

I’m sad to see this girl go. If only I could get my coffee virginity back…I gave her my first cup.
I was really looking forward to a threesome with Jesus.

How to Know if You’re Dating a Bible Thumper:

• If your date’s good friends are Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, she might be a Bible thumper.
• If your date looks for her Bible while you’re out, she might be a Bible thumper.
• If she’s a fan of Jesus on Facebook, she’s probably more religious than you.
• If your date asks you how long you’ve known Jesus, she might be a Bible thumper.
• If your date went to Bible College, she’s probably a Bible thumper.
• If she has more than six siblings, odds are she comes from a religious crew.
• If your date asks you if you’re a good carpenter, run.