Beauty Is In The Eyes of the Beer Holder

First there was Will – The patent lawyer, very proud of his Portuguese heritage. A little too short for my taste but cute. We went out on about three "good" dates. In the middle of the fourth one he mentioned, in the most nonchalant manner possible, not to get my hopes up because he had several first dates the following week. Of course. Then there was Brandon. He was the diabetic photographer that conveniently left his watch in my apartment forcing a second encounter. He also conveniently disappeared after such encounter. Craig was very interesting. After pursuing me decided that he would not go out with me because “I’m an independent liberal aggressive”. I’m sorry I just don’t have any witty comment to that at this moment.

I switched online dating sites since I felt that one was just plain cheating me out of my money and found Vince. Wow did that date fall flat. There was ZERO chemistry but he insisted in taking me home at the end of the night to make out with me. As I walked my tequila drunken ass out of the bar and hailed a cab he begged me to stay. I swear he begged. Steve no. 1 kept staring at my chest all night long in a posh bar at the Thompson Hotel downtown. He also kept sticking his tongue in my ear. Guys, newsflash. Not all women like the whole tongue-in-ear approach. It’s a, um, “sticky” subject to say the least. Try before you buy. “Justsayin”. Then there was Adam. After a complete day of flirting and chatting did not want to meet me because I was a divorcee. Yes, I’m divorced; I’m not a leper. Around Thanksgiving he sent me a text and we met. I barely recognized him. His pictures were 40lbs and10 years ago. There were apparently no mirrors in his apartment or he had a Crayola box complex since he was wearing a gold (yes GOLD) puffer, brown jeans and bright green puma sneakers. He looked like something out of an MC Hammer video.

Adam no.2 I saw for two dates. His texts and messages differed radically from his in person conversations. He never kissed, hugged me or anything of the sort. To this day I believe his twin brother or his friend texted me while he met up with me at the bar. Needless to say he followed in diabetic photog boy’s steps and pulled a Houdini.  

Then there was Sebastian, the French Canadian guy. Ah Seb. He asked for my laptop to check his work email. I didn’t think twice about it so I close a few windows and handed it over as I proceeded to get ready for brunch. I was thoroughly enjoying that succulent bite of my blueberry goodness when his phone beeped. He was laughing. He had a funny facebook post. It read: “You are hot!” Wait, that post was from me he informed me.  As I suddenly assessed the situation my eyes widened, my face turned beet red, my stomach turned upside down and my fork fell, the cheap metal resonating on the beige plate, sinking into a pool of syrup. I was in awe, in shock, appalled that he had dared logged into my facebook account, friended me, written on his wall ‘you are hot’ and thought it was hilarious.  As I stood up, mid bite and left him laughing in the diner I realized stupidity has no boundaries. I don’t remember blueberry pancakes as fondly anymore.

Daniel was the third of The Houdini Club. He’s not worthy of commentary. Neil would booty call without ever having met me. He thought he was all that and then some. He didn’t live up to the hype. He had bad breath, small teeth and a big nose. George got way too drunk on our date. His shirt was black, unbuttoned almost to his navel and I had this sudden urge to button it all up and choke him with it. I couldn’t stand the sight of shaved chest hair. And leather jewelry. I decided to get in a cab at the end of the night, as he was clearly upset. I, however, did not know how upset he was until I received three or more texts with some variation or other of “you suck. You left me”. And yet he wonded why I decided to disappear. This, my friends, is the only time I decided to play Houdini. After a man insults you, I think you earn a spot in the club.  

I am calmly sitting on my bed taking off my makeup when my phone beeps. It was Steve who decides it’s kosher to send me a message at the end of our fist date that reads, (and I’m not kidding) “is it ok if I tell you that I want to fuck you?”  Then there is Joshua the lawyer with the worst possible haircut I’ve ever seen. As he is turning every possible shade of red in the spectrum the word “divorced” is coming out of my mouth and I’m thinking I’m going to need to perform the Heimlich in a second or two.  I swear his hair stood 4” tall. I still can’t get over that.   

Michael was so good-looking I was skeptical. There’s something about men that are prettier than you that make you wonder. He made me go all the way downtown because it was close to his gym, sat down, chugged 2 beers and left one hour later after talking about his daughter nonstop and paying no attention whatsoever to me.  I call him the 2-beer wonder. I think it took me a week to recover from that. The last one of the first batch was Jason, the really sweet corporate lawyer. The guy was adorable but is the worst kisser in the world. I’m sorry hon but kissing is so important.

After my 6 month dating sabbatical I meet Chris, my first 40 year old. We met at a fancy hotel and had a plain nice date. No kiss, no hug, no nothing. After 2 hours he got up and proclaimed he had to work. At midnight. Uh-uh. Another 2 hour wonder. Chris no.2 was sort of eccentric. Ok. He was completely eccentric or just plain weird. We met and two minutes in he gave me the following disclosure: he “had to be true to his heart; He had to form a friendship first and take it from there.” One afternoon, fed up with them, men and the whole Houdini club I emailed him. Granted, he didn’t deserve the rage on the other end of the monitor but at this point I had just had it with immature men that think that disappearing is the same as saying “No thanks”. What I read to this day leaves me in shock.

“I apologise for avoiding the topic but it was pretty clear to me by the end of the night that it would be difficult to start at a friendship level that I explained I needed. 

Add to that a bit of a bit of similarities to my ex it is difficult to see you as your own person. “

He cant’ even spell apologize.

Matthew was too granola crunching for my taste, I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy but wore too much jewelry for my taste. What is it with some men and jewelry?  He was the father of a 6 year old (which also made me hesitate greatly) and had a “Franciscan” style bald spot; you know the kind, like the monks. Very nice blond curly hair but with a not-so nice bald spot smack dab in the middle. Needless to say there was zero chemistry from the get go and his conversing about his daughter al throughout drinks didn’t help the situation. My biological clock is not ticking. Don’t ask me why.

Stephen is interesting, exciting, intense, and passionate. He reminds me of, well, me! We had an amazing date; I’d dare say this is my first good date since this whole online dating fiasco started. And then life happened. His ex-girlfriend got sick. He got back together with her, yet he wanted to hang out with me. No sir. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Jordan was an editor film buff with a small but cute smile. This date just happened to be uneventful and he just happened to become the latest member of, you guessed it! The Houdini Club! Bryant was one of my favorites. The date was rough. He was an actor and I suppose his ego needed to be stroked? I’m not sure. As you probably guessed by now I’m not so good with men and I’m not good for the whole ego-stroking thing so I didn’t really understand when he kept acting up and claiming that I’d “met my match”. His excuse for stubbornness and obnoxious behavior I suppose? I’m not sure. I’m not sure I cared. The date ended and I went home hoping he would join the Houdini club or else I would. He went rogue for more than a week so I thought he did, in fact, join the club, when all of a sudden my inbox gets all the rage: "Ok, so I get my replacement blackberry and go to bbm you only to find you dropped me . . . same with gchat . . . so what gives?  Sounds like you did to me exactly what you bitch about hating for guys to do . . ." A true gentleman right there. First, how was I to know he lost his blackberry? Second, he could have emailed me. Third, there are other ways to get your point across. Sorry. I have a Zero Tolerance Policy.

I believe my personal favorite to this day was Brendan who walked in 15mins late in pleated kakis, an argyle sweater, white socks and black shoes. He walked right past me, sat at the bar, then gestured at me to sit there with him since there, he got free food. Folks, his gut didn’t need free food. He sat down, started pounding Jack Daniel’s (at a wine bar) and proceeded to pick me apart. That my nostrils were too small, that I had fine hands. That I was too intense and high energy, that I was too hoity-toity because I was wearing accessories (well the joke was on him because it was a $5 bracelet and $2 earrings). And my personal favorite – that I reminded him of his ex-wife. Could it get better? Oh yes. He is impotent. He actually confessed to that. As the words came out of his mouth the wine almost came out of my nose. He topped that by asking me out for a second date. I’m just going to pause here while you recover.

So here I sit writing this the only thing that's gone inside me in 8 months is a goddamed tampon. I mean, would you trust to sit through one of those phenomenal first dates that are only passable thanks to inordinate amounts of alcohol? Thought so. But even though I'm partially retired from the dating business I swear if the bitch that sits next to me at work gets flowers or fucking chocolate I'm going to club her with the vase. 

happy fucking valentine's day!