The man who became my 50th first date should have been my 38th. He asked me out on OkCupid around the same time that the man I was dating last winter ended things because I "talk too much." I agreed to meet up in February, and then he changed his mind:
"After I re-read our messages and mentally processed that you blog about dating in Seattle. I got to thinking, someone who blogs about about dating is probably not looking for something long term; which I am. I've been doing this online thing for about 8 months and I've noticed a lot girls (maybe guys too) don't take online dating seriously. I know that's painting you in broad brushstrokes, which is totally f'ed up. But over the last couple months my instincts have served me well."
Okay, no problem. I knew he was wrong. I AM looking for something long-term, but I wasn't going to argue. We went our separate internet ways.
Then last week, I got another message from him:
"Oh, I remember you! I bounced on a date with you because you write a blog about Seattle dating... How's the blog coming?"
The blog is still going, and I am still dating. "Did I miss my shot?", he asked. Nope, I give plenty of chances. I agreed to meet up.
He was no dating virgin either. In the last year he'd been on over twenty first dates, but we had different methods to the madness. I search for chemistry, while he preferred to move slowly and see if a relationship naturally develops. I think they are both reasonable approaches. Relationships mean different things to different people and there is more than one way to build a future with someone, but one thing I have learned about myself is that if I don't want to take my clothes off on the second date, there is a problem.
We spent most of the date exchanging stories and sharing our disappointments. "You know what's horrible?," he said. "I don't even get excited about these any more. When I first started I would get all nervous before meeting a girl and now it's just another thing to do. I'm here with you now, I've got another one of these on Thursday, and I don't really care."
Fifty first dates. Let's say that each date lasted approximately 1.5 hours. That is 75 hours, over three days of my life, that I will never get back. And what do I have to show for it? A blog.
#50 and I had nothing in common besides crappy love lives, but he was still easily in the top ten first dates I've had in the last two years. He could hold a conversation, he was funny, he was attractive, and I think he will ultimately find someone who fits him well.
I gave him this website address, so he will read me publicly thanking him for a non-shitty Monday evening. It wasn't a love match, but I have had far worse encounters. I know he has too.
On to #51.
"After I re-read our messages and mentally processed that you blog about dating in Seattle. I got to thinking, someone who blogs about about dating is probably not looking for something long term; which I am. I've been doing this online thing for about 8 months and I've noticed a lot girls (maybe guys too) don't take online dating seriously. I know that's painting you in broad brushstrokes, which is totally f'ed up. But over the last couple months my instincts have served me well."
Okay, no problem. I knew he was wrong. I AM looking for something long-term, but I wasn't going to argue. We went our separate internet ways.
Then last week, I got another message from him:
"Oh, I remember you! I bounced on a date with you because you write a blog about Seattle dating... How's the blog coming?"
The blog is still going, and I am still dating. "Did I miss my shot?", he asked. Nope, I give plenty of chances. I agreed to meet up.
He was no dating virgin either. In the last year he'd been on over twenty first dates, but we had different methods to the madness. I search for chemistry, while he preferred to move slowly and see if a relationship naturally develops. I think they are both reasonable approaches. Relationships mean different things to different people and there is more than one way to build a future with someone, but one thing I have learned about myself is that if I don't want to take my clothes off on the second date, there is a problem.
We spent most of the date exchanging stories and sharing our disappointments. "You know what's horrible?," he said. "I don't even get excited about these any more. When I first started I would get all nervous before meeting a girl and now it's just another thing to do. I'm here with you now, I've got another one of these on Thursday, and I don't really care."
Fifty first dates. Let's say that each date lasted approximately 1.5 hours. That is 75 hours, over three days of my life, that I will never get back. And what do I have to show for it? A blog.
#50 and I had nothing in common besides crappy love lives, but he was still easily in the top ten first dates I've had in the last two years. He could hold a conversation, he was funny, he was attractive, and I think he will ultimately find someone who fits him well.
I gave him this website address, so he will read me publicly thanking him for a non-shitty Monday evening. It wasn't a love match, but I have had far worse encounters. I know he has too.
On to #51.
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