I Just Met You, No You Can't Touch My Side Boob!

For years now I've been told I should write about my dating stories.  I've hesitated for various reasons but today is the day I share my most recent dating experience.  Let me say in no way am I ever trying to make fun of anyone, I've just been told I need to share my dating stories because my friends think they're highly entertaining.  :)  I actually haven't dated in a while so recently I refreshed my Tinder profile uploading of course the most recent and advantageous photos.

I matched with an inquisitive looking artist, a type I typically don't date.  I figured he'd be interesting and I'd be trying something new, hey you never know!  We agreed to meet for a drink at an Italian place downtown after work at 5pm.  It was somewhat of a last minute arrangement so I wasn't wearing the cutest outfit.  I felt a little frumpy and in my last choice of work clothes, but hey, this is the real me, right?  If he can't handle me at my worst he doesn't deserve me at my best, is that how that saying goes?  Okkurrrrt!

He's on time and we grab a seat in their heated covered patio in the back of the restaurant.  We each order a glass of red wine and talk about how long we've been in New York, where we're from and how life is.  We actually touch on past relationships and how important communication is.  WOW, how refreshing this is, I'm thinking.  So nice to feel depth so early!  There happens to be a jazz bar downstairs so we agree to check out the show and have another glass of wine.

It's somewhat of a small jazz bar, potentially only sitting 30 people, very dark and intimate.  We're sitting side by side with our backs up against a brick wall in high chairs behind a row of high top tables.  There are folks to our left, right, and front, also including the jazz band 15 feet away.  As first dates sometimes are, awkward, we're sitting close, hands on each others legs swaying back in forth to the music.  We actually got in trouble for talking once so we're really just sitting there feeling the vibes.  He was an attractive man and a very talented artist so I must say I was into the moment.  We ended up sharing a kiss or two while we enjoyed the music.

About halfway through the show he reaches over and puts his arm around me, OK, all good.  But soon I feel his fingers start to reach down past my shoulder, down my arm and toward my rib, but then to my side boob!  What!  I think I've known him an hour by this point!  OK, I can jolt (looking back I should have), but I politely moved my arm back to push his fingers away.  But oh, do you think that was his only attempt, of course not!  After a few more unsuccessful attempts he brought his arm back up over my shoulder but coincidentally his fingers were dangling close to the opening of my shirt collar so guess where his hands start to go.  Yep.  DOWN THE FRONT CORNER OF MY BLOUSE.  I literally had to smack his hand like a little boy to tell him to stop.  I'm boiling by this point.  What indicators have I given him to do this?  Remember, I'm in my frumpy work clothes, it's only 6:30pm by this point, I mean WHAT THE HELL!

The waiter comes by and asks if we want another drink, I had just told him I wanted to go home because I didn't want to stay out late on a school night.  Really I was completely disinterested and wanted to leave.  I'm not sure he got my hints because when I asked him which train he was taking home he leans in and says "I think we're going in the same direction" with a smirk.  OH, IS THAT RIGHT??

I'm still boiling, but more so sad and disappointed.

We get to the train and I mention I'm going north and he immediately turns and says "OK" and starts walking in that direction.  Ummmm.  I stopped and looked at him and said, "NO, I AM going this way."  He claims he can go this way too and continues to walk with me.  I cannot wait to spoil his idea if he thinks he's going home with me.  So we're on the train and I ask what stop he's getting off on, and he says "We're really not going to hang out?"  I leaned into him and said "I'm 36 years old and completely OK not going home with you tonight, this is our first date, can we not get to know each other some?"  He looked surprised.

So yeah, now I'm a bitch.  The truth is he has no idea how much of a bitch I can be.

The vibe of course immediately changes and he gets off his stop and says bye in a much more friendly manner.  He messages me the following day saying it was great meeting me and it "was cute how I was rubbing his hand." I never responded.  A few days later he messages me again saying if he did "anything that made me feel unpleasant" he apologies.  Gee, thanks.

So that's it, that's the dating story.  The sad part is, I'm actually out here looking for a HUSBAND, a PARTNER.  Women of my caliber are looking for someone who is responsible, RESPECTFUL, kind, with manners.  Heads up to any man who is trying to take a girl home on the first date don't try with a girl in frumpy work clothes who meets you at 5pm.  Thanks!

Bad Dates

Wow, this one is hilarious!

A girl knows almost immediately if there will be another date when meeting a guy for the first time. And as this one approached I knew based on his height and weight (being about the same as mine) this would be our only date. Even after these realizations, I was still respectful and followed through the course of the meal carrying basic conversation in hopes that within an hour I could be on my way. This guy was actually nice, so lunch was good for the most part, or maybe it was the amazing fish tacos.

When we finished we parted ways and I thought all was good (and I was free) until I got the following text message…

I mean, WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?  Ugh. Gross. I just can't believe a man would say such a thing to a woman like this after a first date!!  Even after a third date, that is so ridiculous!  

People are crazy and dating is crazy in 2015!  More wine please!!!!

Bad Dates

I love confidence, but there's a fine line between being confident and being arrogant and obviously trying to make up for something. Too much confidence is unattractive, in my opinion. Too many of those one-liners, especially, make me want to vomit.

"By the way I think you have prolific beauty."

This guy's game almost had me. In our first phone conversation he asked me if anyone had told me I was beautiful today? I looked around the room shocked because I really couldn't believe what I was hearing, WOW! I chuckled and said "NO," and he said "Well let me be the first one to tell you...."

How sweet was that! Another day he sent me a text saying "Enjoy your message." I had actually missed his phone call and he left me a voicemail telling me I was beautiful. Awwww how sweet.

Now here's where I have an issue when first meeting someone. I don't want to go from zero to 100 after we exchange a few texts and talk on the phone one time. I get it you can be into someone, but starting to text them all day every day after your first phone call is a little much. I don't want to feel obligated to text and respond to you ASAP every single day after first speaking with you. SORRY BOO.  Can we please space this out some!

So this guy is texting me every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Geez man. One day I didn't respond as quickly as he would have liked, so in a matter of hours he responds with: "Or not, stay wild traveler." 

Jesus Christ. Stage 5 Clinger Alert!!

Ok maybe I'm being too judgemental, maybe he was genuinely interested in this woman of prolific beauty he had just chatted with. At this point I was still OK with taking him up on the offer of a lunch date. Cautiously.

So we meet for lunch. I had not planned on drinking, but once we realized we both had a love for whisky, his pushing for drinks led to one, then two, and three rounds. I mean we both had no where to be, so sure! We actually talked about a lot of different things. But there just comes a point where you just know you aren't jiving with the person. I realized this earlier than I thought with this one. The sleazy one liners, hand rubbing, and slanted eye looks like he was filming a sexy cowboy video shoot while we were eating were just too much. BARF NOW. UGH. Whatever, I held it together and grubbed down on extra chips to soak up all the Jack. Lunch came to an end and we politely departed in our own directions.

Now I'm not trying to bash the guy, because some of this game tactics were on point, but this one thing he did set me over the top.

So not only did he immediately text me right after lunch, but also that night and next day. WOAH MAN. At this point I may be purposely trying to create a little bit of time between our conversations. Well he obviously didn't like that because he came to me with this: "Don't tell me you're a flake out after I spent $89 at Cabo Fish Taco LOL."  Man I had to get real with him. Maybe he should consider coffee for a first date rather than a whisky infused lunch when you are meeting a girl for the first time. Jesus.

That was the nail in the coffin for me, amongst other things. Stage 5 Clingers - I'm not interested.

I think he's gotten the hint now after I haven't responded to numerous texts. Sorry buddy.


I'm still hopeful for love though, and that will never change. <3

Dating or Love?

Not often do I allow someone else's words to speak for mine, but this piece sums up my thoughts and feelings SO well on dating these days; I had to imprint every single one of Jamie Varon's words on my blog. Any guy that wants to date me, read every single word below. And put your damn phone and hash tags to rest, Jesus. Social media validation seems more important these days than actual in person experience and validation. Not my preference or my style!

This Is How We Date Now

Jamie Varon

We don’t commit now. We don’t see the point. They’ve always said there are so many fish in the sea, but never before has that sea of fish been right at our fingertips on OkCupid, Tinder, Grindr, Dattch, take your pick. We can order up a human being in the same way we can order up pad thai on Seamless. We think intimacy lies in a perfectly-executed string of emoji. We think effort is a “good morning” text. We say romance is dead, because maybe it is, but maybe we just need to reinvent it. Maybe romance in our modern age is putting the phone down long enough to look in each other’s eyes at dinner. Maybe romance is deleting Tinder off your phone after an incredible first date with someone. Maybe romance is still there, we just don’t know what it looks like now.

When we choose—if we commit—we are still one eye wandering at the options. We want the beautiful cut of filet mignon, but we’re too busy eyeing the mediocre buffet, because choice. Because choice. Our choices are killing us. We think choice means something. We think opportunity is good. We think the more chances we have, the better. But, it makes everything watered-down. Never mind actually feeling satisfied, we don’t even understand what satisfaction looks like, sounds like, feels like. We’re one foot out the door, because outside that door is more, more, more. We don’t see who’s right in front of our eyes asking to be loved, because no one is asking to be loved. We long for something that we still want to believe exists. Yet, we are looking for the next thrill, the next jolt of excitement, the next instant gratification.

We soothe ourselves and distract ourselves and, if we can’t even face the demons inside our own brain, how can we be expected to stick something out, to love someone even when it’s not easy to love them? We bail. We leave. We see a limitless world in a way that no generation before us has seen. We can open up a new tab, look at pictures of Portugal, pull out a Visa, and book a plane ticket. We don’t do this, but we can. The point is that we know we can, even if we don’t have the resources to do so. There are always other tantalizing options. Open up Instagram and see the lives of others, the life we could have. See the places we’re not traveling to. See the lives we’re not living. See the people we’re not dating. We bombard ourselves with stimuli, input, input, input, and we wonder why we’re miserable. We wonder why we’re dissatisfied. We wonder why nothing lasts and everything feels a little hopeless. Because, we have no idea how to see our lives for what they are, instead of what they aren’t.

And, even if we find it. Say we find that person we love who loves us. Commitment. Intimacy. “I love you.” We do it. We find it. Then, quickly, we live it for others. We tell people we’re in a relationship on Facebook. We throw our pictures up on Instagram. We become a “we.” We make it seem shiny and perfect because what we choose to share is the highlight reel. We don’t share the 3am fights, the reddened eyes, the tear-stained bedsheets. We don’t write status updates about how their love for us shines a light on where we don’t love ourselves. We don’t tweet 140 characters of sadness when we’re having the kinds of conversations that can make or break the future of our love. This is not what we share. Shiny picture. Happy couple. Love is perfect.

Then, we see these other happy, shiny couples and we compare. We are The Emoji Generation. Choice Culture. The Comparison Generation. Measuring up. Good enough. The best. Never before have we had such an incredible cornucopia of markers for what it looks like to live the Best Life Possible. We input, input, input and soon find ourselves in despair. We’ll never be good enough, because what we’re trying to measure up to just does not fucking exist. These lives do not exist. These relationships do not exist. Yet, we can’t believe it. We see it with our own eyes. And, we want it. And, we will make ourselves miserable until we get it.

So, we break up. We break up because we’re not good enough, our lives aren’t good enough, our relationship isn’t good enough. We swipe, swipe, swipe, just a bit more on Tinder. We order someone up to our door just like a pizza. And, the cycle starts again. Emoji. “Good morning” text. Intimacy. Put down the phone. Couple selfie. Shiny, happy couple. Compare. Compare. Compare. The inevitable creeping in of latent, subtle dissatisfaction. The fights. “Something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.” “This isn’t working.” “I need something more.” And, we break up. Another love lost. Another graveyard of shiny, happy couple selfies.

On to the next. Searching for the elusive more. The next fix. The next gratification. The next quick hit. Living our lives in 140 characters, 5 second snaps, frozen filtered images, four minute movies, attention here, attention there. More as an illusion. We worry about settling, all the while making ourselves suffer thinking that anything less than the shiny, happy filtered life we’ve been accustomed to is settling. What is settling? We don’t know, but we fucking don’t want it. If it’s not perfect, it’s settling. If it’s not glittery filtered love, settling. If it’s not Pinterest-worthy, settling.

We realize that this more we want is a lie. We want phone calls. We want to see a face we love absent of the blue dim of a phone screen. We want slowness. We want simplicity. We want a life that does not need the validation of likes, favorites, comments, upvotes. We may not know yet that we want this, but we do. We want connection, true connection. We want a love that builds, not a love that gets discarded for the next hit. We want to come home to people. We want to lay down our heads at the end of our lives and know we lived well, we lived the fuck out of our lives. This is what we want even if we don’t know it yet.

Yet, this is not how we date now. This is not how we love now.

Bad Dates

SO, yes, I've had a few serious relationships in my life, but I'll admit most of my adult life has been filled with a hell of a lot of dates.  Some dates have been good, some have been ok, but some have been borderline weird, crazy, or terrible! Of course I tell my girlfriends my crazy stories and they always say "Elizabeth you need to write a book!"  I've been hesitant, because on some dates I do mention my blog and how I write about my travels, life, etc.  But it's gotten to a point now where I just don't care!  I don't plan on seeing these "bad dates" again anyway!  I've accumulated enough "bad date" material and I think it is the perfect time to start sharing these crazy stories!

Now, this post would be too long to go back in time to cover all of the crazy dates I've had.  Like the guy who got so drunk at a basketball game that he threw up on himself and fell asleep in his seat, which was only a couple rows back from the Celtics!  Or the guy who told me that he's into open relationships and was floored when a girl he recently met, who was already in a relationship, broke it off with him (after she told him she slept with another guy, but he wasn't mad about that part).  Or the guy who friended me and borderline stalked me on Facebook.  Or the guy who was a pet cremator.  Or the guy who talked about himself for 2 hours and never asked one question about me.  Or the guy I dated for a little while, who stalked my blog, later realized that some of my posts weren't about him and then he went off on me! 

Unfortunately I could go on and on, but this could be fun.  Of course my goal in life is to NOT be a habitual dater (or habitual bitch as my brother said).  But until I find Mr. Right - I meet a lot of Mr. Wrong's in the process.  I know there are a lot of women that go through this - and ladies you are not alone!!!

My intention is not to bash guys here.  But only to vocalize the experience of meeting men that just aren't right for me.

Stay tuned....