how i met my first date

Now I can't forget my first date!

Now I can’t forget my first date!

With wedding season in full swing and being the token single girl at every event, it’s hard not to think about dating.  Hearing all the stories about how each couple met, I started thinking about the story of how I will meet my future husband.  Nothing came to mind except the insane story of how I met my first date.

This story is legen-wait for it-dary! And it’s a good representation of my dating experiences thus far.  I may have a cute story when I get married of how I met my husband but my kids will probably know this story just as well.

I started dating on the older side having been too shy and awkward in high school to flirt with a guy let alone go on a date.  Being the “cool girl friend” was more my thing.  “She’s like a dude” was something I actually took as a compliment and was the only straw I could grab at.  So when I finally had my first date I was really nervous.

First, let’s start with how I came to meet this Prince Charming.  I was at dinner with a friend when I started to feel a little under the weather.  We were finishing up when she got a call from her cousin who was at a bar right near her apartment. So we finished dinner and headed to the bar.  I started to sweat and heard my stomach making weird noises as we got out of the cab.  I decided to go up to her apartment while she met up with her cousin, Joe, and I’d catch up with them when I felt a little better.  

I was so sick in the bathroom when I heard the door open.  My friend had come back with Joe and a friend. Perfect.  Her bathroom was directly next to her living room and you could hear everything.  I was trying to get myself together but was still feeling horrible.  Fifteen minutes passed then 25 minutes.  I felt like I had to wait it out until they left.  It was embarrassing at that point to just walk out of the bathroom after a half hour and be like, “Oh, there you guys are. I’ve been looking everywhere!”.  It’s not like it was my apartment either where I could pretend I was in my room. All of a sudden my friend tried to open the bathroom door and I slammed it shut.  She said, “Sorry Bev, I forgot you were here”.  Then you hear men’s voices saying, “Who’s Bev?” Those bastards blew up my spot.  I washed up, threw some water on my face, put the fan on.  Nothing helped.  I walked out so awkwardly trying my best to ignore how terrible I felt and forced a smile. Thankfully the guys were drunk and didn’t notice or care at the moment.    

I was cornered on the small couch by her cousin’s friend who was talking to me an inch from my face.  As he rambled on about something (I could not follow his story), I kept imagining how I must have looked- sweaty with a really uncomfortable look on my face.  The guy was decent looking and nice enough but seemed like he had a screw or two loose.  He reminded me of Cliff O’Malley (Lochlyn Munro) from “Dead Man On Campus”.  I thought he was going to chant, “My name is Cliff.  Brother of Joe.  Got me some crack.  Want me some hoes”.  He didn’t but he did open a beer and then flick the cap directly into my friend’s eye.  She was bleeding from it and he just laughed at first.  Then he felt really bad and tried to help by getting her a cold compress for her eye. Instead he slammed the tray of ice cubes into her face and got ice all over the floor.  On top of that my situation was not improving so I figured this was a good time to sneak out.  I was trying to make my way out as discretely as possible but he popped out of nowhere as I got toward the door.  He would not let me say goodbye and despite my pleading, insisted on escorting me to a cab.

Next thing I knew he was standing next to me in the elevator. I was desperately trying to act casual but I was so scared I was going to fart or vomit on him.  The intense awkward silence didn’t help. As we approached the lobby he asked for my number. I felt put on the spot so I gave it to him. It was raining out so he decided to back out of the grand gesture and headed back upstairs. He opted for the “shout down the hall” goodbye because he couldn’t wait the extra minute for the elevator to come back down. I was too sick and delirious to care about how weird the past two hours had been and found myself a cab. I did not think in a million years he would contact me after that.

I was half right.  He didn’t contact me afterwards until about 3 weeks later.  He texted me to see if I wanted to get dinner that weekend.  I was really weary about going on a date with this guy.  I wasn’t sure if my instincts were right in that he was a chromosome short or I was just nervous to go on a date.  His behavior was so inconsistent and I was so out of it the night I had met him that I wasn’t sure if my perception of him had been off.  So I agreed to meet him for coffee and felt that was a safe first date.

The date.  I arrived a few minutes late and when I finally got to the correct Starbucks, after multiple attempts, I found out that I was a third wheel on my own date.  At the table was my date and a familiar face, my friend’s cousin, Joe.  My date smiled and waved but didn’t get up to say hi.  Joe and I had the most awkward hello. We both went to give a kiss on the cheek and had the embarrassing back and forth before almost kissing on the lips. I sat down and there was silence.  I was blushing from embarrassment and couldn’t really pay attention to the conversation or lack thereof. I can talk to a wall but this was painful.  Joe was trying his best to get my date involved in the conversation but you could see how uncomfortable he was being there.  Who takes a friend on a date? I decided to go get coffee.  All my date said was, “Cool.” He didn’t want anything and didn’t offer to get me something, go with me, or God forbid pay.  So I got up and paid for my coffee.  I got back to the table and sat down. The guys were talking but that faded quickly into another batch of silence.  My date grumbled something about a bar.  I had just gotten my coffee and wanted to finish it. Joe tried to escape but my date protested and screamed, “No!” and grabbed at his jacket. He really knows how to make a girl feel special. So Joe sat back down and we started talking again. About three seconds later my date interrupts us by pounding on the table and says, “We need to get to a bar now.”  He said it around 10 times in a row until we agreed to find one.  

We get to the bar and he immediately got himself a drink.  Again, he didn’t offer to get me anything.  I ordered a soda and he got annoyed that I wasn’t drinking.  I didn’t want to pay or commit to the time it would take to have a drink so I opted for something quick and easy.  It was a different location but same situation.  Joe and I were attempting small talk again while my date downed drinks.  He slammed the glass on the bar and goes, “What is the best thing about twenty eight year old girls?” I said, “What?”  He said, “There are twenty of them.”  The music had faded out towards the end of the joke so it was really quiet in the bar.  People were staring and giving us dirty looks.  He didn’t laugh or make eye contact, he just went back to being silent.  Joe looked so embarrassed and was awkwardly laughing.  I took the pedophile joke as my cue to leave. I said, “It was really nice to meet you but I have to get going.”  He just replied with bye.  Joe had to be like, “You’re not going to walk her to the door?”  He said, “No I’m good”.  Then he begrudgingly got up and walked towards the door.  I turned to say bye and he was in my face trying to kiss me.  Seriously??  My fight or flight reaction kicked in and I tried to flee but tripped over the rug by the door, fell and cut myself.  He headed straight back to the bar and left me annoyed, injured, and with a deep skepticism of dating.  I may have bled out of my knee, but I popped my dating cherry and finally was no longer a virgin to the dating scene.

My first date seems pretty on par with how my dating life panned out.  My story certainly set the bar for horrible dates.  Hopefully that was the worst, although I have had some pretty close seconds.  Who knows, maybe at one of these weddings I’ll meet the man of dreams and have a cute story to tell my children.  But for now I’ll just stick with how I met my first/worst date.

Like sex, dating gets better with time even though there are some bad experiences along the way. It’s what you make of the bad dates that determines how well the next one will go. That’s why I choose to find the humor in the situation rather than focus on how traumatic it was or could have been.

Continuing to make lemons into limoncello.

-Bev

Johnny Be Bad…And Stupid.

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WARNING: OVERSIZED LOAD AND EGO.  THIS IMAGE MAY CAUSE BRAIN DAMAGE.

Who couldn’t resist a charmer like Johnny?  With his ripped body, nut hugger tighty whities, and orange complexion it’s a wonder he’s 44 years old on a dating site.  Not only does this Adonis have style, he has a killer personality and is ultra smooth with the ladies.

Yesterday I saw the notification that I had a message waiting from an admirer.  I went to find out what this Don Juan wrote me.  He certainly caught my attention.

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If that doesn’t whisk a girl off her feet I don’t know what does.  Oh wait, I do…anything else!  I had to see what this guy was about.  I checked out his profile and this message became even more ridiculous when I did some reconnaissance.

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He likes monkeys, has great personal hygiene, and has one interest…tennis.  I’m sure he almost went pro with that body and personality.  Opportunities like this don’t come along very often so I made sure to take full advantage.  I responded in the above message correspondence.  I couldn’t have wished for a better response (below).

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He responded, “You have extra mayo”.  I’m not really sure what that’s supposed to mean but by my powers of deduction I assume he was hungry?  His primitive nature was really attractive but I think a compatible mate might be a Chimp.  The Chimp may be smarter but at least they’re on the same playing field.  Maybe the monkey in the picture was his ex?  I had my fun with him, but he was getting annoying and I am sure he was harassing others as well so I reported him.  About an hour later I received this:

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Is this Neanderthal serious?  Did he really think a backhanded compliment was the best way to court a woman?  Then on top of that, did he think adding insulting comments to try to make her feel self conscious and insecure was going to seal the deal?  Newsflash genius: you just became the story that every girl will publicize as the worst attempt at dating.

I know I’m not the first and certainly not the last girl who will encounter this beast.  I just wonder if anyone ever took the bait?  My guess is no.  But what puzzles me the most is why anyone would think that this approach would be a good idea.  I’ll give him one thing.  He did engage me but mostly because I needed new material for a blog that he has no idea I’m writing.  Luckily I’m comfortable with myself but to other women who are on these sites, that can cause a serious case of low self esteem.  And to that I say F*CK this guy.

This reminds me once again of my previous blog about men’s overcompensation and low self esteem, “He’s Just Not That Into Himself: A Guide To Men’s Overcompensation”.  Clearly this guy has a screw loose among other things.  His attempt to knock women down a peg is so that someone could be on his level.  Unfortunately it would take a thousand pegs for anyone to be close.  People like Johnny- those with a horrible personality, no respect for themselves (first picture featured), low IQ (who in their 40’s can’t spell sandwich), and no interests or ambition- bully people into being friends or dare I say romantic relationships.  Surprisingly his classy approach doesn’t work well.  He’d be a great addition to a trilogy of “The 44 Year Old Virgin”.  He definitely has social issues, no game, and I would bet my right arm he has never gotten laid let alone kissed a girl.  Maybe he’s just barking up the wrong tree?  Beasteality exists for a reason and although commonly looked down upon, I think this might be the yellow brick road to his happiness.

I do have to thank him for actually raising my self esteem.  If I ever feel sorry for myself, I just have to remember Johnny’s extremely pathetic existence and I will bounce back in no time.  I am not going to bash him anymore because I’m starting to think he has some developmental delay, in addition to being an a**hole, since all his attempts were highly juvenile for someone his age.

If anyone is looking for a catch like this, Johnny’s “due” and has included his contact info.  You better get in touch soon because that guy won’t be around for long.  It’s a matter of time until he’s locked up behind bars, whether it is in prison or a zoo.

Thanks Johnny!  It’s been a pleasure exposing you.  Onto the next freak!

-Bev

He’s Just Not That Into Himself…A Guide to Men’s Overcompensation

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There is a misconception that women are the insecure gender. Yes, girls criticize themselves and are socialized to believe if we’re not supermodels then we’re not attractive or perfect just the way we are. But what about men? No one ever discusses the insecurities that plague men because if a guy shows weakness he’s looked down upon or called a pussy. By no means do I want a guy who is crying all the time but being in touch with your feelings is not a bad thing! How can you be secure if you are not honest with how you feel about yourself?  The answer is NOT all men are secure.

I didn’t conduct an experiment with a control group but my exposure to men has lead me to this conclusion.  Since I began online dating again, I’ve noticed that most of the guys I am talking to have something in common, low self esteem.  However, it would not appear that way to the naked eye.  Many come off as cocky and overcompensate whether it’s how much money they have or how far along in their career they believe they are.  But it’s those little comments and gestures that blow their poker face.

Let me give you a clear example:

I was talking to this guy, we’ll call him Peter Griffin (explanation to follow), and he immediately asked me if I liked his pictures.  Peter had actually contacted me on another site a few years back and used the same pictures so I knew these were not recent.  There was the first hint of deception.  The old picture.  This will probably come up in every post but, come on, if you don’t look like your picture then don’t post it!  Then he asked me if I look like my pictures.  He pressed this topic for a while as I reassured him I wasn’t a 56 year old man pleasuring himself at the public library computer.  He kept talking about how we were both really good looking people (and pointed out how people tell him he’s handsome all the time).  He then pat himself on the back for his sexual prowess.  Peter noted quite a few times how long he could go for yet he hadn’t asked for my name yet.  I agreed to go out with him because he lives close and has a Labradoodle (as do I).  I thought, if nothing else, I would have another friend at the dog park.

The date.  Peter Griffin took me to a cafe that was cute but more so for meeting an old friend for coffee.  This was Saturday night and the nicest meal they had on the menu was a burger and fries.  But he was classy, he brought champagne, Korbel, and had it chilling for my arrival.  As I expected, he did not look like his pictures.  Coincidently his first question was, “So, do I look like my pics?”.  What am I supposed to say?  No, you have less hair, are 50 pounds heavier, and might be batting for the other team.  Then he went on to tell me about his new exercise regimen and low carb diet (he offered me some dieting tips…yup), what he had for lunch, what he has for lunch on a regular work day, and how he already feels lighter and more energetic.  Peter didn’t forget to mention the amazing apartment he has and how much money it costs, the new cars he gets every year (from a Hassidic family in Brooklyn?), and how he’s a “musician”.  FYI, owning a guitar and singing along with the radio does not make you a musician.

I hate goodbyes but this one I was looking forward to.  As we’re walking out he offers to drive me to my apartment since he thoughtfully picked a place that was closer to his apartment.  Unfortunately I don’t live in a city that you can just hail a cab so I decided to take him up on his offer…among other things.  He said he had to go into his apartment to get his keys.  He showed off his mediocre apartment, okay the view was amazing but this was nothing compared to what he made it seem.  He kept trying to show me his room and his king sized bed.  As deeply impressed as I was by his ability to furnish an apartment, I wasn’t that interested and wanted to get home.  I asked to use the bathroom and when I came out he called to me from his bedroom.  I walked in to find him laying on his bed naked (Castanza portrait-esq).  I was speechless, not because of his ballsy assumption that I’d want to have sex with him but that he looked so much like Peter Griffin from that episode of Family Guy where Peter’s bones disintegrate and he’s just a huge blob of fat.  I swear, the resemblance was uncanny!  He started to stretch and flex his leg to show off his assets.  He actually said, “Come feel.  I’m all muscle” and I couldn’t help but think “Under which layer of skin and fat?”.  I have nothing against overweight people but the way this guy spoke of himself you would think you were on a date with David Beckham, not the complete opposite.  As much as I enjoy awkward moments, this one needed to end.

But the journey continued.  I asked if he minded taking me home because I wasn’t feeling well, AKA was nauseous from the mental image of his naked body ingrained in my memory.  So he gets his clothes and brings them to the bathroom to dress (because being naked was ok but seeing him dress was off limits).  Then he was telling me how handy he is around the apartment and how he installed everything himself.  I inquired about the ceiling fan that was hanging from a wire and was one door slam away from crashing to the ground.  He conveniently didn’t work on that one. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, we get to the car and he puts on Nickelback and starts belting out “Never made it as a wise man, couldn’t cut it as a poor man stealing”.  I was embarrassed for him.  It was mostly his pride in liking bands like Nickelback and knowing every lyric to the songs as well as the key changes.  It didn’t stop there- he informed me that he just learned how to play this gem on the guitar!  Because hearing you play it will make it sound better, right?

Peter Griffin was just a walking contradiction. This guy had cajones!  Not only did he strip naked and try to seduce me but I was able to call him out on every lie and exaggeration that came out of his mouth.  To me he screamed insecure!  In an attempt to overcompensate for his shortcomings he came off as self conscious of his appearance, his finances, his masculinity, sexual capacity, and his musical ability (or lack there of).  Note that this behavior is typical for people with low self esteem.  Masking it with a facade only goes so far.  Your true nature will always show as it did in the Family Guy episode with the real Peter Griffin and now with the fake Peter Griffin, case in point.

To the nervous daters out there, you are not alone.  No one is completely secure but the more you confront these insecurities the better chance you have of overcoming them.  Don’t let these over confident personalities fool you.  Just because issues may not be visible right away doesn’t mean they don’t exist.  Like a braless girl in a see through shirt, you might be covered in fabric but we can still see your nipples.

Do: Live a naked life.  Be honest with yourself and your feelings.

Don’t: Actually get naked…especially as a surprise after the first date.  That’s one jack we don’t need popping out of the box.

A toast to living naked because eventually you will have to strip and bare all.

Stay Tuned!

-Bev