Truth is I was supposed to go on a date this weekend.
He never contacted me.
I’ve been bummed even though I wasn’t particularly jumping up and down about dating him. It was a guy that Zue from my art class had dated through an internet dating service. They didn’t click, so she tossed him over to me (Yay! Leftovers!) because according to her, we just seemed a better fit. He liked science fiction and comic books and zombies and looked like a certain rock star from the 80’s. Not sure how that qualified him as dating material for me. But during our class Wednesday night she kept saying reassuring things like:
“He’s NOT a serial killer, witty!”
Always comforting to hear. Although you don’t usually hear that stuff BEFORE the date. Only on the “Dateline” episode a year or two later.
So I let her have my e-mail address to give him and he wrote me an e-mail. One sentence. And then he gave me a link to his internet dating profile. And yes, he liked science fiction and zombies and stuff like that. And the header said something like “Yes, I know I look like ________” (an 80’s rock star) and then there were several shirtless photos of him.
Shirtless photos on dating internet services, for some reason, have just never impressed me. Why do you have to take your shirt off, kind sir? I guess its because I see nude people every week in my art class, that it doesn’t particularly twirl my cookies. And also basically I’m kind of an intellectual geeky nerd-girl first and seeing man-boobs is really low priority.
So, because I have this abnormally close relationship with my shrink, I sent him the link to see what he thought of the rock star zombie guy and he kind of made a joke saying it was better that he looked like _______ (the 80’s rock star) than Boy George, but not much else. He really wants me to be dating so unless the guy looks like the Zodiac Killer, he’s probably give him his stamp of approval.
So I finally wrote back and introduced myself. And being me, I was verbose as usual. And funny. And told him I didn’t know who ___________(rock star from the 80’s) was and then relayed a very funny story about the time I waited on the lead singer from “Night Ranger” in the 80’s and had no idea who he was and how insulted the guy was that a twenty something woman didn”t know who he was. And then how all my coworkers came running over to me afterwards screaming and hitting my arm, saying “That was Jack Blades!!! Squeeeeee!!!!!!” And I was like “Who???”
Hey, I was home listening to Broadway musicals with my gay boyfriends.
So I told him all about myself and that we had a lot of similar interests and what times I was available over the weekend and where we might possibly meet.
I guess I accidentally insulted him by not knowing what he is best known for: Looking like a rock star from the 80’s. He even still had the same haircut! 80’s rock star hair. I could have worked with that! No really! 80’s rock star hair.
As to why he didn’t contact me? Maybe his computer cable went out when he was playing “pac-man”. Just guessing though.
I did sign up with that stupid computer dating service he was in however. I’ve already gotten two responses: One from a guy who’s almost 70…despite the fact that I said: NO ONE OLDER THAN 52. And than one from a guy who weighs about 450 pounds and admits “he never stops
The real reason I signed up however, was because there was somebody who lives here in the Village who sounded like he might be good for me. I sat down this afternoon and wrote him another one of my famous verbose letters, but tried not to insult any of his interests, like the fact that he likes pilates. Hey, that’s cool. I said that I liked pilates too. (whispering: What are pilates again?)
It was very hard to hit the SEND button and even harder waiting to hear if he’ll reply. Because that’s where I really stumble. The human contact part. If I don’t like a guy or I think I’m smarter than him (like Handyman), I can be totally awesome. But if I like him or feel attracted to him, I instantly start acting like Dustin Hoffman in “Rainman”. And I just don’t know what the solution is.
I’ve had a lifetime of terminal shyness. I’ve always used humor as a shield to deflect any possible interpersonal interactions with men, because as you know, who ever plays the heroine’s humorous best friend in a comedy is always hopelessly single. Right Carrie Fisher? So…
***UPDATE*** While I was sitting writing this forlorn entry, my Village Guy just wrote back. The one I wanted to write back. Naturally I had an instantaneous nervous breakdown and started crying and had to write “A” a long letter about what a freakin’
failure wreck I am and how much I wanted this to work, because his letter was quite wonderful. He was very bright and funny, even though he said he wasn’t. He sent me a link to some photos of himself and he’s like Mr. GQ Yuppie with curly hair (me melting immediately).
And my God, we live in the same Village, which isn’t very big. I may be walking by his house every day, when I’m out for walks and not even know it! And he did see my photo and didn’t react in abject horror.
But now I’m afraid. My letter to “A” was lengthy and emotional. I wish I was seeing him this week. The Village Guy’s letter was just informational. No let’s meet or anything. I know I can be smashing is print…that much is obvious…its just when I walk up to him in thrift store clothing and sandals that are 5 years old and splitting at the toe, whether he’ll be as charmed is another question.