Sunday, August 5, 2012

dating - season two

i'm back!  it's been a while.  sorry about that.  i get busy and keep thinking - i'll write this weekend... then this weekend comes along and i say - oh i'll write during lunch sometime this week.  yada yada yada, well, here i am now.

i feel like it's recap time.  insert montage of clips from last season with music by paul simon.  i've been inspired (by a bravo tv show, yes... i'm that cheesy) to really get into the dating scene.  as a dating "expert" said - there are no bad dates.  there are good ones and great stories for your friends the next day.  so i've turned (not completely) my usual, "i don't think so" into "well, why not" and let's just say i've got some good stories for you.

i won't name names or even go into too much detail because i'd hate to offend anyone or hurt feelings.  there have been a few dates here and there.  i'd like to keep one or two as friends.  there you go.  i said it, friends.  i thought maybe it was just me.  maybe i've been out of the dating world for so long that i've turned into this old spinster sitting on the park bench with a bag of stale bread for the birds and these young whippersnappers are speaking in a slang i don't understand.  maybe i don't understand dating.

let's just say most dates have had a common theme.  the lack of crazy laughter... a somewhat melancholy gray cloud hovering.  there seem to be quite a handful of not-so-happy people out there.  it's ok to have a bad day here and there.  but on a date, shouldn't it be your A-game? and of course, i turn into the perpetual entertainer because, well, it's what i do in quiet awkward situations.  i dig out old stories, i reach into my polite indifference bag and pull out my thesaurus to replace "oh, interesting."  there are only so many times one can say "that's interesting" before the other person realizes... i'm not that interested.

manners are good.  i miss manners.  i don't need someone to open a door for me or pull out my chair, but just have SOME manners.  politeness, courtesy, make your date feel like it's a special evening.  don't make your date do all the work.  meet in the middle. make your date feel like it's a date.  i swear i walked away from a couple of them thinking - did i just hang out w/ my new friend or was this a first date?  i've discussed w/ my best friend who said, of course they are dates, what else would they be?  i don't think it's a good sign when i am scratching my head on the way home thinking - uh, if we hang out again, will that be a date?  will that be date number two?  can you ask your date if that was a date?  because i'm sure that might come off as, well, impolite.  can i say date one more time?  date.  there.  done.

one fella knew it all.  from how the movies i like are terrible to how wrong i was about a pronunciation.  look, i'll admit, i think i know everything but i can say when i don't.  and if on a date, i try to refrain from doing the nanny nanny boo boo dance when i'm correct and you're mistaken. ya lost me there bucko.  don't pretend i'm right, just don't stand on a table declaring your genius.

maybe i've watched too many movies.  i expect a date to be easy breezy w/  a pinch of nervousness.  that there should be hair twirling and eyelash batting and no room for doubt that THAT was a date.  a little old school w/ an innocent end to the evening.  i think all girls want butterflies on the drive home.  all girls want to squeal like a 6th grader (internally of course) when his name pops up on the phone. i'm not asking for john cusack to follow me across the country or for ryan gosling to stand outside in the rain waiting for me... or ewan mcgregor to have made a daffodil field appear outside my window. (although, ewan, if you're reading this, seriously, you wouldn't have to try that hard. you could bring me chewed gum and i'd swoon.) just some sparks.  or one spark.  sigh.  at least you can make a new friend.

hopefully after my next date or two, i will have great stories about a great date. keep your fingers crossed!

No comments:

Post a Comment