Where have I been? That's a really good question. I have been awkwardly neglectful and stressed about my absence. Part of it is my own fault, part of it is work, part of it is doing research. (Research? Did I just try to make myself important? DID I? Yes, yes I did.) When I say research, what I mean is that I have been tirelessly going on dates for the last month. Remember that time that I made a promise to go on a certain number of dates before the middle of May? Cahmmm ahnnn, you remember. Fine, read it HERE. Well, I want to discuss the dates with you... in detail... now.
So date two was a bit more promising than the first. The guy was a hefty Latino man who worked as a lobbyist. We met at my go-to place, Crios, in Dupont Circle. I go there for two reasons: (1) It's easy/close to where I live, and (2) They have fucking delicious margaritas, and if I can't enjoy the date I can at least get tipsy.
Date One: The Peaceful Snob
The first date I went on was at the very end of April. It was casual and friendly and not filled with any of the sparks or butterflies that you would want from a relationship starting date. The guy was a hippie teacher who had spent a couple of years in the Peace Corps. (Do you see where issues might arise? DO YOU?) I had decided that this date was going to be amazingly interesting and culturally enlightening, or a complete and total whack job.
This was kinda the opposite of everything I thought it was going to be. The date started off normal enough with us making small talk about our lives and where we are in our careers. He fit all of the basic criteria for a mate: 29, teacher, tall, seemed to be grounded, witty. Then things took a turn when we began discussing his time in Africa. Out of nowhere he became a travel snob and started discussing his family's wealth.
(Joan is perfect for expressing CONSTANT SURPRISE and mild annoyance. Thanks, Botox.)
I was slapped in the face with this. I wasn't expecting it. How does one prepare for this? You have just spent TWO years of your life working for the needy, the poor, the down trodden and the thing you want to discuss with me is the traveling you did? Not only did he tell me all the countries he visited, he then went into the trips he was able to take with his family. I think he told me about this one kid he helped once, and it was "like pretty cool."
I wasn't really sure how to continue the date after that. We tried to move on but I was so dumbfounded that I am sure I didn't make sense. Peace Snob just went about his business and continued to bring the convo back to himself. We parted ways with an awkward handshake/handhold thing and a promise of a second date... THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN.
Date Two: The Intense Latino
Latino Heat was obviously into the idea of a Mexican restaurant as well. We had decent conversation at the beginning and then got really deep into family shit. I usually get weird about this stuff, but I let it slide after the second marg. (Let's cool it on the judgement. Two more margs and we would have an issue.) After we finished our dinner, we slowly made our way up the street and when I turned to say goodbye, he went in for the kiss. Because I am a gentleman I didn't stop him... but I felt... nothing, literally, nothing. It felt like I was kissing one of my best girlfriends... nice to have lips on me but not really doing anything below the neck. (Wink, WINK.)
Despite the less than exciting experience, I decided to go on a second date with him to see if the sparks could be found. Unfortunately for him, our second date coincided with a massive work emergency that ended up consuming my attention for most of our date. We went to Mellow Mushroom in Adams Morgan, also not far from where I live (I'm a man of convenience), and nommed on some pizza. The sparks were far from present, and as I walked back to my apartment, I decided to let this fizzle out.
Unfortunately for me, Latino Heat seemed to think we were a match made in heaven. He began texting me incessantly about hanging out again. I told him about my busy work schedule and then decided not to text him back. Then, in a period of 24 hours, he texted me 8 times. Eight. OCHO. ACHT. ATE. EiGhT.
(ZOINKS)
I didn't know what to do with all of them. They ranged from normal checking in to increasingly creepy and clingy.
Text 1: Hey, I know you are busy and stuff, I just wanted to check in and make sure you are okay.
Text 3: Hey, I haven't heard from you. I was thinking our next date could be something casual and intimate.
Text 5: So I really think we could have something special, let me make you dinner this week.
Text 8: I have looked at your OkCupid profile a few more times, and I really agree with it that we are a match. I think we should make a go of it.
I'm sorry... you are continuing to look at my OkC profile? WHAT? WHO ADMITS THAT? He might be admitting it because you can SEE when someone has looked at your profile. He actually looked at my profile every day for a week. I just... I just... I can't. MATCH FAIL.
Date Three: Tiny and Bland
To round out this trifecta, I decided to go on one last date in May before I headed to Miami for my work/vacation trip. This guy was cute, dark, and gainfully employed as a consultant. (Read also: my dream man.) We were messaging back and forth, and he had some painfully adorable lines that swayed me into a date. The one thing that was holding me back was his height. Tiny Dancer was all of 5'6" to my 6'1" frame.
(Just not my cup of tea.)
I sucked it up and went on the date anyways. I had somehow convinced Tiny Dancer to go to Crios with me after a rather long Friday at work. (Man. Of. Convenience.) We had a lot in common and the conversation just kinda flowed between us. There wasn't a great deal of attraction, mainly because I considered bringing a booster seat on the date, but he was nice, nonetheless. We had a few sticking points where I knew we wouldn't work out in the long run — beyond the height.
- He had a rule against having any alcoholic beverages after 9pm. Ever.
2. He was a Republican. (No offense, Republican readers... I'm just... I... well, it's a thing.)
(This is from Aubrey O'Days stint on RuPaul's Drag Race. She, surprisingly, is not a drag queen.)
3. Finally, the worst offense, he didn't like reality TV, especially Bravo.
(If anyone can give a "Bitch Please" face, its Madame Hillary Effing Clinton.)
I am fairly certain he felt the same about my liberal, reality TV watching, hard partying ways. Plus, I was a giant next to him... and girl, that ain't cute. As if he needed an extra thing against me, the gorgeous host at Crios called me out. Close to the end of the date, the host swung by and stood near me, looking me up and down for a second.
Cahhhute Host: You've come here before. A lot. You always have fun boys with you.
Me: *shocked* Way to blow up my spot!
Tiny Dancer: Fun boys?
Me: I hang out with a lot of gays? I like Tex-Mex. THEY HAVE GOOD BRUNCH.
Cahhhute Host: See! I told you, you're so funny!
Anddd, another one bites the dust.
Last week I was in Miami, this weekend is DC Pride, next week I'm in Chicago, and then I am going to NYC Pride. I want to update you on all of these things, Amanda Bynes, and the future of my liver. (Hint: It's not a bright one.)
Peace Snob: A new type of terrible
Latino Heat: A hunk, a hunk of CREEPY LOVE
Tiny Dancer: Fell just short of being terrific. (See what I did there, DO YOU?)
Fabulously Lost: Hot Mess, since '88
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