To Date? Or not to Date.
Good Morning, Friends. Yes, so I’ve been thinking about dating, as I do from time to time. Thinking about it and then not doing anything about it. I’m signed up on a dating site that I haven’t kept up with for a year. I’ve seen many many pictures of men in their bathrooms (why?) taking pictures with their smart phones, no shirts on, with their heads cropped off. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
I haven’t had a “romantic relationship” since 2011 in LA. So that’s some easy math there. Long time. That one didn’t end too well, and there was blood on the tracks (mostly mine) and a deep seated suspicion that I may not be so healthy once I’m in a relationship. I tend to lose myself and try to morph into what I imagine what the other person wants. I am a long time people pleaser, to a fault. It runs deep, and I’m not proud of it, but there it is.
But, that was almost seven years ago (is that right? I sucketh at math, worse than I do at relationships) and I have gone through some warp speed growth since moving back to New York. I have been on the fast track, ticking off life lessons furiously. I might be different in a relationship now, I am clearer about who I am and what I want. I also, frankly, don’t feel that I am in need of a relationship. I’ve been alone for a long time and I like it.
I did date one guy. I knew he wasn’t the one, I didn’t even particularly like him. That’s not correct. I DID NOT like him. But my friends said, “Give him a chance!”
So I went on three dates. He had some kind of sinus issue, and I don’t want to be mean, but I have trouble with that. I have a super low gross out bar, and the snorting that goes along with a deviated septum and the like makes me gag. I wish I could be more mature, but there it is.
Our first date was a little hike in a highly populated area, Rockefeller State Park. I teach self defense so I know better than to go with someone to a secluded area where they could make a skin suit out of me in no time flat. This guy didn’t strike me as particularly interesting. He snorted constantly, and he interrupted me often, but since I can be a Judgy Mary, I wanted to give him a fair chance.
He also started bashing his ex immediately. Not cool. My friends urged me to go out on a second date, I did. My lack of interest cooled and jelled. I went on a third, just to shut my friends up, once and for all.
We went to a diner for breakfast in Sleepy Hollow. The snorting started, and his face was contorting as well. I could hear the viscous stuff in the pockets of his head popping, moving and shifting. I guess he could see the horrified look on my face, but he mistook it for concern.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”
I wasn’t worried. I was disgusted. Nauseated even.
“Would blowing your nose help?” I suggested. Looking at my plate to avoid looking at his face. Then I had to look away from my over medium over eggs to find something that contained no mucous. I fixed my eyes on my the parking lot outside. At the asphalt. At the hard steel, the rock, the autos. Nothing that caused snorting. No snottage there, all sharp, unforgiving edges.
“I’m really okay, it’s sweet of you to worry.” Snort, snort, snort.
I don’t remember anything after that, clearly I went to my own little private place in my head where this fellow and his snorting could not follow. If he tried to kiss me goodbye I might have disappeared into the deep dark forever.
At home, on a whim, and because he had refused to share his last name until our last date. I looked him up on Facebook.
There, looking back at me from his cover page, was a picture of him and his girlfriend. What?!!!!???
This guy, this snot filled guy who badmouthed his ex-wife on our first date and almost made me throw up violently in sheer disgust, this, dare I say, LOSER, was two timing? Maybe even three timing. Who knows, he could have a girl in each of the farthest ports of Westchester county. I thought about sharing something evil on his page, and then simply blocked him.
So, as you can see, when it comes to dating badly, I’m a pro.
But who doesn’t want a compadre? A soul brother. Someone I can share my secrets and flaws with and he’ll like me anyway. For now, it’s me solo. Well, not solo, I have my kids, and my dogs and my cat. The dogs and the cat all have told me that would marry me without hesitation. Maybe someday.
Have a nice day!
Photo Credit: Death to the Stock