dating

Hey guys!

Couple of things: 1. I made an invert video even though I’ve been hella sick! I shot it 10 minutes before I ran out the door last night and haven’t looked at it since, so it might be crap at worst and will definitely need editing/uploading at best. So sit tight!

2. Oooooooh my god, dating.

Dating.

I have been rejected a lot in my life. Most recently, twice in the past month–both times by guys I had two great dates with and had tentatively set up a third with. Until they changed their minds.

Guy #1 told me he was “emotionally unavailable right now.” Okay, fine, whatever. But he elaborates, and eventually reveals that not only is he boning another person right now, he did so the night/morning of our last date. #class. This hasn’t stopped him from trying to backpedal a few days later with, “We’re in an open relationship–but she wants me to date!” Uh, yeah. I’ll think about it.

Guy #2 had asked me out again after an awesome 2nd date, but then decided he was too busy with work and that maybe we weren’t compatible. Again, fine. Whatever. Did this hurt my feelings? Yes. Do I understand that this type of thing is out of my control and I just have to eat it? Yes.

It would have been fine if we left it there. But no, we didn’t. He went on to explain that the reason we were incompatible was that he believed that I wanted something “serious” and he did not.

This isn’t quite fair because I don’t even know him enough to know whether I want to be “serious” with him, but I said “okay” to it because ideally, I guess I do want a real relationship. So fine.

And then he invited me over.

Like, 10 minutes after explaining why he doesn’t want to date me.

This is bizarre and offensive for many reasons–the most pressing of which: he had just dumped me, and I had just finished crying over it (I’m very sensitive about this stuff at this point, leave me alone).

I told him I thought this was offensive (being upfront, heyo), and after some feeble backpedaling, he called me. I was disgusted with the entire situation at that point, so I did not pick up.

What felt like several minutes later, my phone buzzed. I had a voicemail. A long, long voicemail.

Again, too disgusted with the situation to deal with it at the time, I listened to it on my way to the laundromat the next day. And oh. My. God.

It takes a lot to piss me off to the point where I will go to the trouble of learning how to turn a voicemail into an mp4 file, and then how to turn an mp4 file into a video format that YouTube or Facebook will accept, so trust: this voicemail really, really pissed me off.

I’ll go ahead and let it speak for itself. But remember: this guy had just dumped me. Then he asked me to come over to his house at 10pm on a Friday (I have never been to his house and I don’t even know where he lives). Then, after reading texts where I explicitly told him off for confusing me with a hooker, THIS is what he had to say:

So, dating.

Invert video coming soon, hope y’all had a better weekend than I did!

Also, feel free to commiserate if you’ve had close encounters of a douche kind, it always makes me feel better.

OH, totally unrelated but important: I saw an incredible fusion bellydance to this song last night and I walked three subway stops out of my way getting home from the show so I could listen to it on YouTube and mentally choreograph. That’s how you know it’s good. Enjoy!

XOXOXO

I have a theory: dating in New York and dating in high school are exactly the same. 1. It’s really exciting when a boy has a car, and 2. you still have to watch out for hickeys.

(*ices neck*)

So, I did something super out of character and went to a club.

(I KNOW).

But here’s the twist: it was a Korean club, which means way, way fewer New Jersey bros, which vastly improves the club experience.

In fact, it was mainly a ton of really well-dressed, well-mannered, sophisticated as f*** gentleman. By gentlemen, I mean that NO ONE humped me from behind, but I did get lots of dancing, the aforementioned canoodling, and offers to buy drinks! (SERIOUSLY GUYS NEVER BUY ANYMORE, WHAT A TREAT). Oh, and if you decline the alcoholic ones, a gentleman will buy you water, because only plebian cads want to see you get sloppy.

(Pulp Fiction got it wrong by the way–the best thing to see when you come back from the bathroom is a cute guy in a suit holding a bottle of water he bought for you. I died and went to heaven for a second).

So let’s hear it for the boys, ladies! This one even drove me home at 5 in the morning and didn’t try to weasel his way into my house. What a great night, what a great guy–and a not so great bruise on my neck, but I’ll deal. Hi Patrick!

Now, compare that to the white dude who messaged me from OKCupid (Two notes on this: 1. Yes, I took y’alls advice and got on there, because I realized I’m never going to meet a nice single guy in a belly dance class, and 2. No, I don’t date white guys that often because I find them entitled, boring, and WAY too fond of a popped collar. Also, they all secretly like Dave Matthews. What’s up with that????)

Anyway, in this case, I decided to have an open mind and give it a chance. The guy seemed nice. We had a decent convo about performing (he’s a musician), and he suggested we meet up. It was almost harder to say no than yes. Why not?

We decided on Union Square for general location, because it’s equidistant to his uptown and my Brooklyn addresses. But funny enough, he didn’t seem to know where he wanted me to meet him. NBD, I would get there and text him, I figured, and we’d pick the place together.

But, the night before I lost my phone at the club (nooooooooooooo), so I had to email him asking for the location in advance.

“Ok, gotcha. Let’s meet in front of Whole Foods.”

satc

…

Chicka what?

I withheld judgment and instead went to my friends house to make scrambled eggs, talk about our previous night (she kissed a boy too, holla! WE NEVER DO THIS, SERIOUSLY), and get a second opinion. She was as sassy about the situation as I felt, which was encouraging. “That’s bullshit–he’s going to ask a lady to wait outside on the street for him? Get out of here with that.”

My thoughts exactly. So I politely wrote back, she peering over my shoulder with approval, “How about we meet inside somewhere?”

Gentle reader, you probably already see where this is going, but my jaw dropped.

“Oh, okay… meet me inside Whole Foods.”

…

INSIDE Whole Foods? Oh, okay, that makes all the difference. LOLOLOLOLOLOL.

You guys, this douche honestly thought I was going to schlep all the way into the city on a Saturday night to stand around in a grocery store waiting for him.

Shockingly, I declined. And then (not so shockingly) he insinuated that it was because I was materialistic. Oh PLEASE–I can buy my own drinks and dinner–the issue at hand is how crass and thoughtless it is to ask a first date to wait for you in a grocery store instead of somewhere comfortable and warm, such as a bar. Or hell, just anywhere with chairs, and no produce section.

I guess the moral of the story is, no more white boys. Seriously. Literally anything else will do.

Regale me: what’s the worst first date you’ve had? Or offer of a date?

This would have been my 3rd from OkC, and not even the most disastrous, next to The Guy Who Wouldn’t Talk About Anything But The Game of Thrones and Closeted Gay Guy.

Marginally related: the Korean club had poles and go-go dancers, which has now made me wonder if this could be my dream job. Just, up on a pole, surrounded by hot guys in suits. Yes. Please.

(Jokes aside, If you have ever go-goed, please email me about it or comment because I’m curious as to what it’s like).

XOXOXO and wishing you happy poling and dating!

Cathy