I’ve been dating again for approximately six months; more like five if you factor in that it took me a few weeks to muster up the nerve to contact anyone I met online (I finally had to give them my number because I was too nervous to call anyone).
A lot has happened, but not a lot of dates, actually. I can count the dates on one hand. G. and the perfect date at the French restaurant. Wow that was fun. I couldn’t have scripted a more perfect evening.
Then the A for asshole guy who took me to a dinner-dance that was a work thing and didn’t tell me (the whole night was like an episode from a sitcom). He walks me into a hall with tables, waiters, a band, women are wearing gowns, and I’m in skinny jeans, heels and cleavage.
Then the sexless chump guy that took me to the movies. Bad, but considering other stories I’ve heard, not horrible.
The Talmud Scholar. How can a man be so intelligent, sexy and hot yet so inept sexually??? He may very well have been a virgin. This may have been workable at some other point in my life, but on the day we finally got together, I needed someone to fuck the Terminator out of my brain, not a student to teach.
Teaching some clueless dude how to fuck is no doubt a popular fantasy for a lot of women. Not me. I don’t renovate or educate men. I like my men fully formed. I need an equal not a child…anyway, we had a great coffee date.
Also, the fed-up guy who decided he wanted to meet women for sex was also a great coffee date, but married.
Two dates that never happened — the blast from the past who never followed-up, and the two-second glance that resulted in thanks but no thanks. Oh and another one who I had to cancel because I got sick (this was before G.) and who never contacted me again.
This would be the new guy, J., who I met online just after Terminator dumped me. We’ve been on two dates, we speak and text daily…we have a boatload of things in common, I haven’t fucked him yet (I’m trying to wait as long as possible), and he seems like relationship material. I haven’t run screaming into the night, but I’m not jumping in with both feet either. But it is very, very cool.
So what have I learned? This dating shit is exhausting — not the dating itself, but the finding someone appropriate that you think you’d be compatible with. And I’m talking about sitting across a table conversing with, not fucking. That’s much easier, because attraction is what it is, lust is simple, but relationships, friendships are much harder to do.
Even fucking around is complicated when you’ve got some standards. Like knowing how to spell and speak in complete sentences with correct grammar. Like being mature and having some class…
I still want to fuck around but I’ve been spoiled by the Terminator and now there is the situation with J. to consider…stay tuned.