9.01.2010

How I Roll

Last week I had two dates with two different guys. That's just how I roll, haha. It had been quite some time since I'd been on a date, and it seems that with online dating, there are always a bunch of guys I'm talking to at once, and then there will be no one I'm interested in for weeks…sometimes months. I'm completely fine with that, as it gives me time to focus on my healthy living. I've lost a little more weight, I'm running on a regular basis (although I'm slow as hell and my mileage sucks) and going to yoga once a week. I find that these things are helping me manage the ├╝ber stress that follows me home from work (yes, I'm still job hunting.) Oh, and beer. Beer also helps :)

A couple weeks ago, I began talking to a new guy on POF. We hit it off really well, and I thought he was cute and had a great sense of humour. After a bunch of e-mails, we made plans to meet up last Monday. As he lives outside the city and takes a GO Train home each night, he could only meet up for a drink very early in the evening. I left work early, ran home and changed into jeans, and headed downtown to meet him at the Irish Embassy (nice bar, very "Bay Street"—being Toronto's equivalent to Wall Street, for my American friends.)

I did the awkward lap around the bar to see if he was there when I arrived, then parked myself inside the front door when I couldn't find him. He walked up, smiled, and I deflated a little. He was incredibly tall (almost 6'6"), but didn't carry it well, as he hunched over slightly in an effort, I assume, to appear shorter. He had very large buck teeth, which (I would soon discover) made him talk with a slight lisp. There was a significant double chin, and unfortunately, a resemblance to my ex-boyfriend. Booo, fail.

Buck and I made our way to a table and ordered a couple of beers. He asked me to tell him some of my dating horror stories, and before long, I had him in stitches.

"You should write a book, Redhead. Seriously. I would buy it!" he said.

I laughed and took a sip of my beer. It had been just short of an hour, and I caught him checking his watch.

"Sorry, I don't mean to rush you…" he said, trailing off.

"No, it's okay, I know you have a train to catch."

He signaled the waitress for the cheque and refused to take money for my share of the bill. We walked to Union Station in the rain, and he made fun of my incredibly tiny umbrella (what? It fits in my purse, was rather expensive and is wind resistant and bullet proof or some shit) and I thanked him and gave him a quick hug (please note: unless a guy has slopped food down his shirt or reeks of B.O., I will hug him. I come from a family who hugs. Hm. I should maybe stop doing that.)

I called my brother, my mom, and Stef, a little buzzy from the beer (I'm a lightweight and I hadn't had time for dinner), and told them Buck was a thumbs down. Nice guy, but I wasn't attracted to him in the least. I even told my mom it was a shame that I wore my "cute underwear" and then yelled, "for confidence, not because I'm a slut, mother!" when she paused awkwardly. I should note here that my grandmother told my mom to tell me that she read an article about how women should wear red underwear when they go for job interviews, as it boosts your confidence and positivity or something. I get so damn nervous about these dates that I figured my cute underwear couldn't hurt. Yes, it has come to that.

The next morning at work, I received an e-mail from Buck. I made a scrunchy face and waited awhile before writing back. He had suggested at one point before our meeting that there was to be "no pressure" and, worst case scenario, we would probably make good friends. I convinced myself that yes indeed, we could be friends! So I wrote him back, all friendly-like. And then it got weird.

Buck: You're very funny and entertaining. What did you think?
Redhead: Why thank you. You're pretty funny too!
Buck: Thanks! I'm just funny? Nothing more? lol

Crap. He was fishing, and backing me into a corner while he was at it.

Redhead: It was an hour? I barely know you.
Buck: I can tell within the first fifteen minutes if I'm attracted to someone. You're very pretty and you have beautiful eyes!

Fuck. Friendship fail. ABORT!

Of course I resorted to doing what I do best: avoid. I told him I was very busy at work (always true) and backed away slowly. A day later, I received an e-mail from Buck on POF, asking if I'd lost interest. Why he would go back to POF to send me an e-mail when we had been communicating via other means is beyond me. I never understand it when they do that, and truth be told, it annoys me. It makes me feel like they are trying to keep tabs on my POF activity.

So my little brother and I had a conversation about the best way to handle the brush-off with these guys, because it seems like I can't win no matter what I do. If I ignore them, I'm an asshole, if I reply, I'm leading them on, and telling them directly makes me feel like a soul-crushing bitch. Little brother asked me how I prefer guys handle the situation with me, and I told him that if I don't hear from a guy within 2-3 days after a date, I know he's not interested and that's just fine with me. There is no awkward conversation involved, and I simply move on. He told me that I'm perfectly justified in handling it the same way then, so that's exactly what I'm going to do! If I'm not interested in seeing a guy again, I'm not going to communicate with him. Also, no more of this "friendship" trickery. I'm an asshole/problem solved! Oh little brother, whatever will I do when you're off fighting crime on the high seas? That's code for he joined the Canadian Navy :) and also :(

But I digress. Since date number one didn't go so well, I decided to line up date number two with a guy I had talked to a long time ago (basically when I first signed back up on Lava/POF), but had never met, due to conflicting schedules (he's a camera operator who often works odd hours) and bed bug madness.

Last Thursday night, I found myself sitting at the corner of Bathurst and College, waiting for my date. He had just texted me that he was running about fifteen minutes late, so I called my brother (the other one. I have two. I'm the oldest. This is getting confusing, so I'm going to start calling them 1 and 2. Haha, they'll love that!) So 1 and I chatted for a few minutes, then I watched a chick on a bike almost get smoked by a taxi, and then some crazy dude started singing to me. Never a dull moment in Toronto.

I noticed a guy waiting on the south side of the street with a bike, and I realized it was my date, Camera Guy. I stood up and headed toward him. He was cute in a longish, rumpled red hair and freckles kinda way, and he looked as if he should be living a relaxed life somewhere on a beach in Vancouver.

We chatted as we walked west on College St., until we found a cute little Italian restaurant where we could chill on the patio and order some drinks. I tried Stella Artois, and I am not a fan. It tasted burnt to me, for some reason? I followed that up with a couple of Coronas.

We talked for a few hours, and I had a good time, but I wasn't sure if we had a romantic spark or a friendship spark. I did know that I would definitely go out with Camera Guy again to figure it out.

Our second date is tonight, and we plan to shoot some pool and drink some beer. Wish me luck!


Updates!

1. Cutie tried to call me yesterday, and I was having none of that. The voicemail was just a hang up.
2. Stinky McBad Breath keeps chatting me up on MSN (often a little flirty), as if I would give him another shot. Foolish boy. As long as I still have my sense of smell, that won't be happening.
3. Mr Ego's Facebook pokes (yes, still) have become obnoxious. I'm nobody's back-up plan, so if he calls/texts me to "hang out" after all this time, I'm telling him to sit and spin.

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