Archive for November, 2011

The No-Show and the Unreadable One

November 26, 2011

The No-Show and the Unreadable One

 I had a date last Saturday for coffee/tea at a nearby Starbuck’s. My date was already there when I arrived, a good sign. He also ordered hot tea, another plus. He explained that his mother was English. We sat down and had a good conversation. He was about my height but I outweighed him by at least thirty pounds. This always makes me nervous, which is my baggage, not his. I told him he was second date material and he seemed pleased.

We talked for almost two hours and decided to go to a movie late that afternoon. We saw Moneyball. I arrived at the theater early and paid for my own ticket. I also had a theater tee shirt which entitles me to free popcorn all year, and a loyalty cup which allows me to get one dollar refills. In other words, it cost him nothing and we shared my popcorn. He got water.

The movie was an upper and I was looking forward to discussing it over our planned dinner. Of course I had to go to the bathroom after the show. As I exited the restroom, I noticed he was talking on his phone. I let him finish his conversation before I approached.

He said his father had fallen and his mother was upset. He needed to go home and see to the situation. (They lived in the same condo complex as him.) I understood. My mother lived with me for five years before going to assisted living. The reason she had to move was because she would fall when we were gone and couldn’t get up.

I emailed him two days later and wished him a Happy Thanksgiving. He had told me he was spending it with his family, who live in town. He picked up something melancholy about my email and called concerned that I would be alone on the holiday. I had expressly stated that I was going to a movie with a friend and then eating turkey Shepherd’s Pie at my house. We talked and I confessed about Thanksgiving being a hard day for me since the death of my daughters many years ago. He seemed sympathetic and promised to cook dinner for me over the weekend.

It’s Saturday and he hasn’t called to schedule the dinner. Am I optimistically reading a guy again? Did I misunderstand? Was I supposed to call him? I thought he was one of the good guys.

Last Tuesday I had a date with a guy from the west side of Phoenix. He wanted to meet halfway, at the Desert Ridge Barnes and Noble café for coffee at ten. He had been emailing me his adventures on a trip to see relatives that turned him into a cupcake baker for a few days. I looked forward to hearing about it. He called to change the plans, but then said he had cancelled something else, so it was okay.

I put on makeup and choose my outfit carefully. I get there a few minutes early and ordered a large hot tea. At ten o’clock I get a phone call from Mr. No Show. His car wouldn’t start. I know this was ridiculous because he would have had to start out at 9:30 to make it to our meeting. I didn’t rant or rave. I sat at a table, finishing my hot tea and stewing. I realized I should have said something and not swallowed my annoyance. Could be he’s married. In any case, he hasn’t called or emailed so another one bites the dust.

When a No-Match is a Match

November 15, 2011

When a No-Match is a Match

 My sister, who lives in Manhattan, came out to Arizona with her new boyfriend, Bob.  He lives in Philadelphia. To me they seemed a great match. They’ve only been going out a few months, but they seem so happy and comfortable with each other. According to their profiles on Match.com, they were not a match. My sister only wanted to meet people within forty miles of New York City. Bob stated in his parameters that he wanted a woman less than 5 feet 5 inches. My sister is 5’6”.

My sister said that Match.com uses a new algorithm. They keep track of whom you contact and find others like them. I had noticed this when I was actively on the site. After I emailed or “winked” at someone, the computer would bring up more “men like him.” It turns out that the dating site has figured out that what you say you want on your profile and whom you contact may be quite different.

On any dating website there are so many people that it is imperative to set some parameters. However, it’s interesting to consider all the people you knock out of the running who actually might be just right for you. I give you the experience of my sister and her boyfriend.

 

I am the Date from Hell

November 8, 2011

When I am the Date from Hell

 I had a date Saturday night with a very nice guy. Unfortunately I was the date from hell.

We met at Humble Pie for a drink (Michelob Ultra me, Vodka Collins him.) The conversation was going well, about education. He’s a high school English teacher.

The talk was beginning to get to personal and we mentioned going to dinner and perhaps taking in the show at the Rhythm Room.

Then my youngest son called. The dog I had just gotten, a rescue twelve-year old Malti-poo, had gotten out. My son chased it but she ran into the street and was hit and killed by a car. He was beside himself and I had to deal with the situation. I live nearby, so I told my date to sit tight and I would call him in half an hour. That was my first mistake. I should have said good night and another time would be better.

I told my son to gather up the dog and take it home. When I got there, I tried to calm my son down and reassure him that it was not his fault. It was an accident. The dog had escaped a few days before and sometimes whined at the front door. He missed his dead owner and the woman who fostered him, and was probably trying to go home. I only had the dog for four days.

I googled “dog cremation” and found a rescue site that picked up dead animals and cremated them. It would be $75.00; they would take a check, and could be there in an hour. I should have stayed home. But I am currently at odds with my son, and was annoyed he was even at my house. I chose instead to call my date and meet him back at Humble Pie. He suggested dinner so we went to my favorite neighborhood diner, Randy’s. We had a good conversation but I could tell he was confused, or maybe concerned that I wasn’t broken up about the dog. I told him I was in shock, and it would wear off soon, so we should skip the Rhythm Room. We talked books and movies and I would like to see him again. He seems like a stand-up good guy. He said maybe we could go to a movie sometime.

The next day, at my sister’s insistence, I emailed him, thanking him for the date and acknowledging the adverse circumstances. I haven’t heard back. I really don’t blame him, if I look at it from his point of view. He meets a woman, she has an emergency. Okay, that could be a front for “I don’t want to be with you.” She tells me to hang around for an hour. We meet again and go to dinner. I see no sadness about the dog. I get negative vibes about her relationship with her son. Scratch her off, she’s weird and has baggage.

I’ll bet our date is the topic in the high school teacher’s lounge. Oh well.

Of course there’s more to the story. I had to call the woman who gave me the dog and tell her what happened. She said she had to hang up and deal with it and would call me later. She did, telling me that she and her friend cried, and they wanted her ashes to sprinkle on her original owner’s grave. I had to call the rescue organization and pay $115 more dollars (which was hard for me to afford but I paid it out of guilt) for individual cremation and make the decisions about the urn. It was included in the price. A cardboard box was not a choice.

I spent time with my son the next day, talking him through the traumatic experience of seeing the dog die.

I still haven’t shed a tear. Am I hard-hearted? On too much Prozac? Or does this tragedy pale in comparison to the others in my life?