Thursday, March 28, 2013

coming to a realization.

My life has not always gone the way I’d imagined. I’m a fairly old-fashioned person and while I have a subtle feminist streak in some regards, most of me would be perfectly content to live a 1950s ideal as a stay-at-home mom ala Leave It To Beaver (string of pearls optional.) And yet here I am, nearing 40 and still single. I’ve had to re-imagine my life many times over and while I’ve never been able to get things quite right I’ve had some great adventures along the way. However, that hasn’t stopped me from wishing for that ‘perfect’ relationship and the opportunities for motherhood.

Some days I’m okay with my singlehood and can power through basking in my never having to share my closet and being able to pee without an audience. Some days I’d give anything just to have someone want to take me on a date. And some days I feel like I don’t care who or how but, darnit, I just really want to make out!
And so, against my better judgement, I started online dating. There’s something safe in the pseudo-anonymity of putting things out in the electric ether. (Just ask the billions who share their every move, mood and meltdown on Facebook and Twitter every second.) Plus, there's the hope that the tiny matchmaking fairies who live in the dating database will be able to screen out the bulk of the crazies and use all the information you spent hours filling out to find your perfect match (or at least someone worth going to dinner with!) *sigh* and alas. Not so!  

And that is why I spent 2 hours fighting off, well, let's call him Handy McGroperson*, a guy who had seemed nice enough through the safe distance of cyber space and phone waves. (And yes, I'm ashamed to admit that it took me 2 hours to finally finish it.) We'd had quite a few email interactions and a couple of nice phone chats before deciding to meet for drinks (freshly squeezed oj, in my world.) So, I drove into town (something I hate to do), circled frantically looking for a parking space (which is why I hate to drive!) before I finally made my way into a garage only to be told that they were closing in 20 minutes so I'd have to find another one. Garage two was $15 an hour (again, why I hate driving!) but I was already half an hour late so I handed my keys to the valet guy and took off.  I should have recognized this whole messy process as a sign from the gods, but I'm not very observant sometimes.  Oh, and did I mention it was raining?

Well, after the apologies and waiting while I bought my drink (yep, he didn't even offer!) he lead me down the street to a hotel lobby where he figured we'd have a better chance to get comfortable. The conversation started out nice enough though after the preliminary "tell me about yourself" he wasn't too interested in anything other than existential gobbeldy gook and "seizing the moment" (both fine and good if you know a bit more about a person than their jobs and where they're from!) And then out of nowhere he lunges at my face saying "I've never kissed a Mormon" (when one is from Utah that inevitably gets brought up) while I'm forced to do a back bend to get out of his way and put a hand up to chest telling him "and you're not going to tonight!" He laughed and said he had to take the chance and I figured we were good, but then his hands were in my lap, on my waist, caressing my arm while I'm sitting as far away from him as I can, moving his hands myself and telling him he's going to have to find somewhere else to put them. He'd stop for a bit and we'd chat a bit longer before the process started all over again.  Seriously, it was the most exhausting couple of hours I'd ever spent.

Finally I just stood up and told him I had to get home but it was good to meet him (and cross him off the list....this was just said in my head, of course, I'm obviously too nice!) He asked for a kiss goodbye and I flat out told him 'no' but gave him a conciliatory pat on the arm as I started walking away.  "We'll be in touch," he called. "Sure," I responded, not even turning around.  "We've got each others' numbers!" "Oh, I've got your number, alright!" (This I did say out loud, but under my breath as I raised a hand in triumphant farewell.)

As I collected my keys and my wits I shook my head in disgust at myself and the state of the world in general. Tallies for the evening: Time wasted, 3 hours; parking, $30; orange juice, $8; a moment of realization, priceless!

Conclusion: sometimes I'd just rather be single!

*names have been changed to reflect true character  protect the guilty!

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