2005-05-11 - 3:05 p.m.
Square One Squared
Last week I had two blind dates that sucked. Would you like to hear about them?Both of them were set up via Match.com�or as I like to call it�the �bitch-hiker�s guide to the dating universe.�
Date #1 � Let�s call him G. (all �chick-lit� style.) 6�6�, attorney, divorced, three kids. My daughter thought his picture was cute. So, even though he lives and works in New Jersey, I agreed to meet him b/c, let�s face it, I�m a desperate NYC woman and b/c Elizabeth thought he was cute.
I suggested the Blue Mill Tavern b/c it�s walking distance from my apartment and, in the (inevitable) event that things don�t work out, I can be back home and in my pajamas in ten minutes tops.
So, I arrived first and was immediately adopted by this garrulous group of people led by "Jim," who was sort of a cross between a used car salesman and the annoying uncle you see once every ten years at a wedding. But they were fun people, and I told them I was waiting for a blind date. They were all goofing on me when G. walked into this party-in-progress. He was pretty cool about it and joined in the banter, but he kept telling everyone he was �half-English� (huh?)�even though he was born and raised in Illinois. Well, he lived in London for 12 years with his English wife, and his three kids go to English boarding schools; however, I�m pretty sure this doesn�t make him �English.� And I�m betting he�s not the secret illegitimate son of Queen Elizabeth, although with that family who knows.
Anyway the �Jim Group� moved to a table for dinner and left G. and I to get on with our date. The problem is G. is a bit of low-talker, so I could barely hear most of what he was saying. Blah, blah, blah�.his wife left him for a well-known English billionaire ("quelle scandale") whose name G. refused to reveal. Damn. Yadda, yadda�he just got dumped by a woman with whom he shared a house in NJ, blah, blah; she has two adopted children from Cameroon.
Well, we moved on to dinner at a table in the back near the Jim Group, and we continued our �Excuse me?-what?-huh?� convo. He rents a summer cottage in Point �O Woods, I�m sure he�s a Republican, I think he talked about a fund-raiser at his house (not sure of the beneificiary or even if he mentioned "fund-raiser). Oh yeah...he described one of his daughters as �a tall, thin, red-haired, pre-pubescent beauty,� which I thought was kind of ICKY. And he kept saying, �So, your daughter thinks I�m cute, eh?� (More ICK)
In between , Jim kept sidling over to our booth to see how the date was going and to invite G. to play golf with him. By now, I was totally tuning out b/c I couldn�t hear the soft-spoken G. across the table, what with all the plate clattering, people chattering, Jim sidling and the sound of my own salad crunching in my own ears. I just nodded and smiled and hoped G. wasn�t asking/telling me anything important.
After dinner, I walked him to the PATH train back to NJ and headed home in time to catch the last half of Larry King Live.
A few days later I received this e-mail from G:
---Linda:
Hi. I enjoyed meeting you very much and you are quite easy to talk with. I have since decided that I need a bit more time to get over the ex-girlfriend and be "ready" for whatever. So I am going off Match and just chilling a bit. I am at (his e-mail address). Hope you and your daughter are both adjusting! It is good that you are so close.---
G.ALRIGHTY, THEN..!! ON TO�
DATE #2 � His name is M., and he�s a sorta-semi-famous writer. 50 years old, 5�9�, silver-maned, small hands (never a good sign). When my daughter saw HIS picture she said, �He looks like a total DICK, and he has that kind of skin that will probably develop melanoma within two or three years.� M. lives most of the time on the East End of Long Island, but maintains a small place in the Village (a �doight-a-terre,� as he calls it, which I thought was pretty funny.) I knew in advance that this guy had just gotten dumped by his 30-YEAR-OLD!! girlfriend who�s a writer for a low-rent NYC daily. But I agreed to the date b/c I figured surely he�d come to his senses and realize he should be dating someone closer to his own age (like me), our e-mail exchanges were engaging, and because he lived in the Village, and fit my �no travel� policy.
So, it was back to the Blue Mill for me. M. was already there when I walked in, and, literally, I did not even have my jacket off when he told me he had to leave in 25 minutes to meet some friends uptown for dinner. I learned nothing new during this 25-minute date, except that he hates cucumbers. Oh yeah, and that his 30 y.o. gf left him just one hour after he suggested that they meet each other�s friends. M. figures that she was probably embarrassed to introduce such an old geezer to her young pals. I thought maybe it was b/c he wears pleated khakis and gold-buttoned blazers� but my friend Kevin feels it�s probably just "�cause he�s an �asshole.� Anyway, there were clearly no sparks between the two of us�and he paid the check so fast that I didn�t have time to finish even one glass of wine. He headed for the subway�and I headed to Gourmet Garage wondering if I�d even had a date at all. I was back in my apartment like 75 minutes after I had left it, and that included a stop to buy arugula. What the fuck?
The next day I received the following e-mail from M:
---Dear Linda,
You were a sport to come meet me for a drink last night, and thanks for that. I had fun meeting you, but to be honest, as I think you sensed, the mystical "chemistry" didn't appear. I think in part that's because I'm still in a funk about (30 y.o. child-woman journalist)., and I'm not sure that dating my way out of depression is going to be the fun and easy exercise I thought it might. In part, too, though, I realize I can't just go from a 30 year old girlfriend to one who's a bit older than I am. It's just too much, or at least too much too soon. Honestly, Linda, you may be setting yourself up for disappointment by looking to date men who are even a bit younger than you. I know the older ones have their propensity for ED problems, as you groused, but surely not all do, and it really may make more sense for you to look for a man a decade older than I am who's somehow still retained his sense of fun. Men in their late forties, or even early fifties, are just likely to be looking for women a decade younger than THEY are. As, I suppose, you know.
Anyway, I'm sorry I can't offer a better report, but there we are.
Take care,
M.---OH YEAH�.THIS IS FUCKING GREAT..!! YOU CAN�T MAKE THIS SHIT UP.
So now I�m back to square one�AGAIN. I guess I�ll have to change my Match.com dating range to �from 68-85� and I guess I�ll just start cruisin� the Village Nursing Home for men who are more my speed�you know, somewhere between feeble and DEAD.
I�m sorry. I don�t mean to be tootin� my own horn (though I�ll admit I could use a good tootin�), but girlfriend is not all that decrepit. I still have all my marbles, I can dance like Ellen DeGeneres, my hair is cool (not all 40-something butch-cut), and I can still come up with some pretty funny one-liners.
See for yourself. Check me out.
Would you date me�I mean if you were an 80-year-old man?
Listen, connect a sista up. If you know any attractive, tall, sane, funny, sexy, successful men�give them my stats. I�m battin� zero here (and you know it�s not good when I start using baseball phrases).
HELP�!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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