Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I Consume: H&M Wrap Dress
Monday, January 30, 2012
I Consume: Brown Not-Leather Boots
Game Over
A week ago Saturday I met C2 on my terms. Instead of me trekking out to Manhattan or New Jersey to a restaurant or bar of his choice, I asked him to meet me at the Brooklyn Museum. I guess museums aren't really date-spots, but I wanted to engage in some sort of activity besides eating. (And it was snowing, so it didn't seem like a good day to check out the botanical gardens or wander Prospect Park.) I had been to the Brooklyn Museum the weekend before to see Hide/Seek with Elle, but I hadn't gotten to see Youth and Beauty: Art of the American Twenties. So, I figured I'd get in a date and some paintings of flappers--two for one.
Full disclosure: I enjoyed this date more than any of my previous dates with C2. I saw my 1920s art, the modern art section with a piece that looked like a 19th century landscape that had caught on fire and pieces of the painting had fluttered to the floor (but upon closer inspection, they couldn't have fluttered, as they were understandably affixed to the premises), and an exhibit I didn't even know I needed to see Work of Art: Kymia Nawabi (which I seriously recommend). I wandered through the museum, reading everything, as I do. (Erin will tell you about the time we spent three hours in the Holocaust Museum in DC and I didn't make it past the first floor.)
C2 didn't seem to have much to say. Occasionally he'd stand behind me, hold my waist, and look at whatever I was looking at, but he seemed bored. I asked him if he'd been to the Brooklyn Museum before and he said no. Neither had he been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It surprised me that he hadn't at least been on a field trip in school. I grew up much farther from the city than he did, and I took a field trip to the Met. I don't claim to be a museum aficionado, but I feel like I've at least covered my basics--The Met, The Brooklyn, The MOMA, Natural History...Okay, I've never been to the Guggenheim. Does having visited the relatively obscure Museum of Sex and some extremely obscure house museums make up for it?
I understand that not everyone is a museum-goer. That doesn't make a person stupid, it just makes him not-a-museum-goer and that's okay. But then we went to the mummy chamber. I already knew quite a lot about the mummy chamber as I spent a whole day there once reading about mummies and I know a little about the Egyptian book of the dead, which I've actually read (in English, of course), though I can't claim that I understood any of it, and alright, I've watched a documentary on the mummies at the Brooklyn Museum. Still, there are dead people displayed in a museum. Even though they're wrapped up so that they only look vaguely human-shaped, they are corpses on display--a person's remains become art. That's cool and creepy. So, I said, "Isn't it creepy that we're standing right here looking at a dead person and sort of mind blowing that he has been dead for all these years and still here for people to look at?" And C2 said, "You think there is really a person in there?" Oh my God, C2 doesn't think mummies are real. Dude, we're not in an amusement park. It's a museum. Yes, there is a real corpse in there.
That's when I realized that not only was I not attracted to C2, I didn't really enjoy spending time with him. I couldn't figure out why before, but I realized in the mummy chamber that C2 was a little bit stupid. He wasn't blatantly you meet him and he is obviously an idiot stupid, but he was the kind of stupid that is masked by being normal and successful that sneaks up on you a little at a time until you finally realize what you're dealing with. I tried to change the subject because I didn't want to have an argument about mummies. I pulled out the copy of The Fault in Our Stars Erin had given me and showed him that it was signed and included a Hankler fish. Even if you don't know who John and Hank Green are, a signed book is always impressive, especially one with a drawing of a fish. But C2 did not congratulate me on my acquisition of a Hankler-fished book. He said, "You brought a book?" Like it was an affront to him for me to bring a book on a date. Sometimes I forget that not all people carry books at all times, but I think anyone worth knowing carries a book most places (especially places where there is a long subway ride involved).
Full disclosure: I enjoyed my trip to the museum, but I didn't enjoy my trip to the museum with C2. I enjoyed it despite his being there. I invited him back to my apartment for tea and board games to see if he could redeem himself, but he could not. He was too serious about the game and made a joke that offended my sister. He seemed frustrated to be drinking tea and playing board games. I don't know where he wanted to be, but it wasn't there. Still, he didn't seem to want to leave. I offered to walk him to the train on my way to the grocery store (I did need to buy groceries), and he understood that I was kicking him out. It wasn't graceful on my part, but I needed him to go home. Clearly, no one was having fun. Later, he texted me to ask how I felt about him. He said that I had rejected his attempts to be affectionate, and he was wondering if I still wanted to date. I had planned on seeing him one more time to tell him that I didn't want to see him anymore. I didn't want to say it in my apartment or on the walk to the train. In a text message felt totally wrong, but since he asked, I figured it was alright to reply. It was actually a huge relief.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bitch.
Full disclosure: I enjoyed this date more than any of my previous dates with C2. I saw my 1920s art, the modern art section with a piece that looked like a 19th century landscape that had caught on fire and pieces of the painting had fluttered to the floor (but upon closer inspection, they couldn't have fluttered, as they were understandably affixed to the premises), and an exhibit I didn't even know I needed to see Work of Art: Kymia Nawabi (which I seriously recommend). I wandered through the museum, reading everything, as I do. (Erin will tell you about the time we spent three hours in the Holocaust Museum in DC and I didn't make it past the first floor.)
C2 didn't seem to have much to say. Occasionally he'd stand behind me, hold my waist, and look at whatever I was looking at, but he seemed bored. I asked him if he'd been to the Brooklyn Museum before and he said no. Neither had he been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It surprised me that he hadn't at least been on a field trip in school. I grew up much farther from the city than he did, and I took a field trip to the Met. I don't claim to be a museum aficionado, but I feel like I've at least covered my basics--The Met, The Brooklyn, The MOMA, Natural History...Okay, I've never been to the Guggenheim. Does having visited the relatively obscure Museum of Sex and some extremely obscure house museums make up for it?
I understand that not everyone is a museum-goer. That doesn't make a person stupid, it just makes him not-a-museum-goer and that's okay. But then we went to the mummy chamber. I already knew quite a lot about the mummy chamber as I spent a whole day there once reading about mummies and I know a little about the Egyptian book of the dead, which I've actually read (in English, of course), though I can't claim that I understood any of it, and alright, I've watched a documentary on the mummies at the Brooklyn Museum. Still, there are dead people displayed in a museum. Even though they're wrapped up so that they only look vaguely human-shaped, they are corpses on display--a person's remains become art. That's cool and creepy. So, I said, "Isn't it creepy that we're standing right here looking at a dead person and sort of mind blowing that he has been dead for all these years and still here for people to look at?" And C2 said, "You think there is really a person in there?" Oh my God, C2 doesn't think mummies are real. Dude, we're not in an amusement park. It's a museum. Yes, there is a real corpse in there.
That's when I realized that not only was I not attracted to C2, I didn't really enjoy spending time with him. I couldn't figure out why before, but I realized in the mummy chamber that C2 was a little bit stupid. He wasn't blatantly you meet him and he is obviously an idiot stupid, but he was the kind of stupid that is masked by being normal and successful that sneaks up on you a little at a time until you finally realize what you're dealing with. I tried to change the subject because I didn't want to have an argument about mummies. I pulled out the copy of The Fault in Our Stars Erin had given me and showed him that it was signed and included a Hankler fish. Even if you don't know who John and Hank Green are, a signed book is always impressive, especially one with a drawing of a fish. But C2 did not congratulate me on my acquisition of a Hankler-fished book. He said, "You brought a book?" Like it was an affront to him for me to bring a book on a date. Sometimes I forget that not all people carry books at all times, but I think anyone worth knowing carries a book most places (especially places where there is a long subway ride involved).
Full disclosure: I enjoyed my trip to the museum, but I didn't enjoy my trip to the museum with C2. I enjoyed it despite his being there. I invited him back to my apartment for tea and board games to see if he could redeem himself, but he could not. He was too serious about the game and made a joke that offended my sister. He seemed frustrated to be drinking tea and playing board games. I don't know where he wanted to be, but it wasn't there. Still, he didn't seem to want to leave. I offered to walk him to the train on my way to the grocery store (I did need to buy groceries), and he understood that I was kicking him out. It wasn't graceful on my part, but I needed him to go home. Clearly, no one was having fun. Later, he texted me to ask how I felt about him. He said that I had rejected his attempts to be affectionate, and he was wondering if I still wanted to date. I had planned on seeing him one more time to tell him that I didn't want to see him anymore. I didn't want to say it in my apartment or on the walk to the train. In a text message felt totally wrong, but since he asked, I figured it was alright to reply. It was actually a huge relief.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm a bitch.
Friday, January 20, 2012
I Don't Like Dating
I've been out with C2 a total of three times now, and I've realized that the reason I'm not in a relationship might be that I don't like to date. My second date with C2 was at a fondue restaurant. I like cheese and I like C2, but I was sort of indifferent to being there. I thought maybe I was worried about the money. So, I laid it out: I do not make much money, I have student loans to pay, I am willing to pay for my portion of this meal, but I cannot afford to eat out often. He graciously offered to pay the bill, which I excepted (because OH MY GOD, it cost $40 for a pot of cheese), but he seemed concerned that I had student loans and made light of my worries by saying, "I think it would be fun to live from pay check to pay check." I said nothing because I'm not the confrontational type, but what? Do you realize that I do live from pay check to pay check? That it is not an adventure or a choice, but just the way it is for many, may people including myself? I think there is a fundamental difference in the way C2 and I live and the way we grew up. He does not have student loans because his parents paid for school. I cannot hold that against him. If my parents had had the means to help me with school, they would have and I would have taken it. But he seemed surprised that I had student loans, and that's what worries me--the assumption that I am like him. What will he think when he finds out that I'm not?
Despite everything, C2 still wanted to go on a 3rd date. I couldn't think of anything really wrong with him (he had now spent quite a bit of money on me and had been nothing but perfectly nice), so I agreed. I said that I had plans on Saturday (a trip to the Brooklyn Museum with Elle to see the Hide/Seek exhibit followed by a game of hide and seek in Prospect Park), but would see him after. Sunday really would have been better, but he was busy. He suggested we meet in Hoboken, where he lives. I was not excited and kind of nervous about going to New Jersey, but it seemed like the polite thing to do since we had previously met in Manhattan. Mostly, I didn't want to go because it was a different transit system and I would have to buy a ticket, but a three dollar bus ticket wasn't much to ask after all he'd spent on me.
I arrived in Hoboken all bundled up in my hide and seek clothes, two pairs of pants (I had wiped the dirt off the outer layer rather than wasting time going home to change). C2 and I ate pizza at a nice Italian restaurant. He paid again. I didn't even offer. Now we've set a precedent: he picks the restaurant, he picks what we eat, he pays. Really, he decides everything. I realized that at the Italian restaurant and thought "this is not a good habit to get into," but then I didn't feel like I had the right to complain--his money and all. After the restaurant, I really could have gone home. I don't like to be out late, and it takes quite a while to get to the part of Brooklyn where I live, but C2 had somewhere else for us to go. He didn't tell me where, just that we couldn't go yet, so we went back to his apartment and awkwardly watched a movie until it was time.
It turned out that we were waiting for a limo--a free limo that this bar has--to pick us up and bring us to the bar. I'll admit, it was pretty cool. The only other time I've ever been in a limo was Junior Prom. And, though I don't really like loud, crowded places, the bar had a live band that played music I liked and C2 bought me a drink and we danced badly. There was a black light on the dance floor that glowed off of people's white t-shirts and neon bracelets and bright orange bras under thin black tank tops and all the cat hair on the lumpy sweater I was wearing because, as you'll recall, I was dressed to play hide and seek.Two pairs of pants, and I was very very warm and definitely not the prettiest of the girls on the dance floor.
When we finally headed out, I wasn't sure if I was happy or if I'd had fun. I had liked the band, but I didn't want to be in New Jersey. It was late and I wanted to be home in my bed. I was thinking about all the time I had spent and how I could have been on the internet or reading a book or sleeping, and then I thought that maybe I didn't really like this person who I was spending time with. But, again, he was so nice. How could I not? Then he asked me to see him the next day, the day he supposedly was busy, and I said yes because I didn't know what else to say. But the more I thought about it, the more upset I became because why did I have to go to New Jersey on Saturday if he was going to be in Brooklyn on Sunday and could see me after his plans. And two days in a row was too much. I needed to spend more time alone in my apartment. I had only seen him three times, but it seemed like much more. I felt overwhelmed. And so I texted him and told him that I couldn't see him on Sunday. I needed to do my laundry and buy groceries--that really was the truth.
So, I've concluded that I really don't like dating. I don't like spending money unnecessarily even if it's someone else's money. Really, especially if it's someone else's money. It seems so fake, so forced. And really, I'd rather be home. I'm seeing C2 again on Saturday, but I'm not sure what to do from there. I'm definitely not his girl friend and I don't want to be his girl friend, so I feel like I'm leading him on, which is mean. But not seeing him anymore after he has invested in me is mean too. And there is no reason for me not to like him. I don't not like. I'm totally indifferent. Maybe that's worse.
I need to stop being so stupid and wishy washy and easily manipulated. But I have so many excuses.
Despite everything, C2 still wanted to go on a 3rd date. I couldn't think of anything really wrong with him (he had now spent quite a bit of money on me and had been nothing but perfectly nice), so I agreed. I said that I had plans on Saturday (a trip to the Brooklyn Museum with Elle to see the Hide/Seek exhibit followed by a game of hide and seek in Prospect Park), but would see him after. Sunday really would have been better, but he was busy. He suggested we meet in Hoboken, where he lives. I was not excited and kind of nervous about going to New Jersey, but it seemed like the polite thing to do since we had previously met in Manhattan. Mostly, I didn't want to go because it was a different transit system and I would have to buy a ticket, but a three dollar bus ticket wasn't much to ask after all he'd spent on me.
I arrived in Hoboken all bundled up in my hide and seek clothes, two pairs of pants (I had wiped the dirt off the outer layer rather than wasting time going home to change). C2 and I ate pizza at a nice Italian restaurant. He paid again. I didn't even offer. Now we've set a precedent: he picks the restaurant, he picks what we eat, he pays. Really, he decides everything. I realized that at the Italian restaurant and thought "this is not a good habit to get into," but then I didn't feel like I had the right to complain--his money and all. After the restaurant, I really could have gone home. I don't like to be out late, and it takes quite a while to get to the part of Brooklyn where I live, but C2 had somewhere else for us to go. He didn't tell me where, just that we couldn't go yet, so we went back to his apartment and awkwardly watched a movie until it was time.
It turned out that we were waiting for a limo--a free limo that this bar has--to pick us up and bring us to the bar. I'll admit, it was pretty cool. The only other time I've ever been in a limo was Junior Prom. And, though I don't really like loud, crowded places, the bar had a live band that played music I liked and C2 bought me a drink and we danced badly. There was a black light on the dance floor that glowed off of people's white t-shirts and neon bracelets and bright orange bras under thin black tank tops and all the cat hair on the lumpy sweater I was wearing because, as you'll recall, I was dressed to play hide and seek.Two pairs of pants, and I was very very warm and definitely not the prettiest of the girls on the dance floor.
When we finally headed out, I wasn't sure if I was happy or if I'd had fun. I had liked the band, but I didn't want to be in New Jersey. It was late and I wanted to be home in my bed. I was thinking about all the time I had spent and how I could have been on the internet or reading a book or sleeping, and then I thought that maybe I didn't really like this person who I was spending time with. But, again, he was so nice. How could I not? Then he asked me to see him the next day, the day he supposedly was busy, and I said yes because I didn't know what else to say. But the more I thought about it, the more upset I became because why did I have to go to New Jersey on Saturday if he was going to be in Brooklyn on Sunday and could see me after his plans. And two days in a row was too much. I needed to spend more time alone in my apartment. I had only seen him three times, but it seemed like much more. I felt overwhelmed. And so I texted him and told him that I couldn't see him on Sunday. I needed to do my laundry and buy groceries--that really was the truth.
So, I've concluded that I really don't like dating. I don't like spending money unnecessarily even if it's someone else's money. Really, especially if it's someone else's money. It seems so fake, so forced. And really, I'd rather be home. I'm seeing C2 again on Saturday, but I'm not sure what to do from there. I'm definitely not his girl friend and I don't want to be his girl friend, so I feel like I'm leading him on, which is mean. But not seeing him anymore after he has invested in me is mean too. And there is no reason for me not to like him. I don't not like. I'm totally indifferent. Maybe that's worse.
I need to stop being so stupid and wishy washy and easily manipulated. But I have so many excuses.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I Consume: Does Your Face Hurt?
Okay, that joke isn't funny. It's a favorite of my uncle's, and to be honest, it has never been funny. But sometimes my face does hurt, especially in the winter. Walking through the city, the cold wind feels like steel wool scraping against my skin. It leaves my face feeling tight and raw. The worst part is face dandruff. You think that's gross, but you know exactly what I'm talking about: those little bits of dead skin that pill up on your face like fuzz on a sweater. Not only is it disgusting and uncomfortable, but it make it nearly impossible to properly apply make-up. So you gob moisturizer onto your face, you smear it into your foundation until you are good and greased and you get some momentary relief. Still, by the time you get to work, your face is dry and burning, and there is nothing you can do about it except try to massage some hand lotion into the really dry spots without messing up your eye shadow. This is a sucky problem I thought had no solution.
Then last winter, I was introduced to a very exciting product. I was late meeting up with some friends (as I often am), and I explained that my lateness was due to a problem with my face. No matter how much lotion I put on, my face still felt dry. My friend Elle (not to be confused with my sister Elle) said, "Your face does look dry," pulled a bottle out of her purse and sprayed me in the face. "Um, I'm wearing make-up," I said, but she said that it was alright. A person could spray this product on his or her face before or after make-up, whenever the face felt dry, and it would not mess up the make-up. The spray provided immediate relief to my burning face, and somehow it did not cause my mascara to run down my cheeks. For the rest of the day, I was surprise attacked. Elle would squint at me, apparently deciding I looked dry, say, "Close your eyes," and spray before she had finished talking. I needed to get myself some of this stuff.
So, this is the part where I mention that the event just described took place in Korea, which I left very soon after without much notice. I returned to the US with the desire for a Korean product I knew only as "face moisture spray." The salespeople at the stores (drug stores, bath product stores and cosmetics shops) I tried did not know what I meant. Though I suspected a similar product to the Korean product must exist, I gave up and soon forgot about my quest.
Then a few weeks ago I was in Sears with Elle (my sister), and I came across Mineral Essentials Antioxidant Hydrating Mist. Could it be? I read the description on the back: "for thirsty skin," "part bliss," "soothe your skin and uplift your mood," revitalizing dose of moisture alone or over [...] make-up." My brain immediately categorized this as a need. "You're paying $16 for something you spray on your face?" Elle asked. Yes. Some things are worth the money.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Contestants Two and Three
I took some time off from OkCupid during the holiday season, and I only recently got in touch with two guys I had agreed to meet, one with whom I actually wanted to go on a date and another with whom I did not (more on that to come). The way my schedule worked out, I was available on both Friday and Saturday, so I figured I'd set up dates for both nights and get them both out of the way in one weekend. It sounds slutty, but really it's just that I think of meeting men like completing homework assignments. If you're a therapist, maybe you can tell me why that is.
Anyway, Friday night I met the first guy. We'll call him Contestant Two, or C2 (if you're wondering what happened to C1, it's this guy). Based on his profile, he seemed intelligent and maybe even witty. I wasn't totally sure that we had common interests, but he at least seemed worth meeting. He suggested a coffee shop in the East Village, and after a little internet research, I concluded that it was exactly the sort of place I would enjoy spending time, but that a person who spent time in such an establishment might be a hipster and therefore cooler than me. I also learned that the establishment did not take debit cards and armed myself with cash. I ate pizza before I went, intending to buy a coffee and drink it very slowly to minimize spending. I became a little worried when he texted me multiple times before our date. If he was someone who needed to be in constant contact with everyone he knew, things were not going to work out. Had he texted anyone during our date, I might have left.
When C2 arrived at the locale I had three first impressions of him (no, I don't think that's too many). One: he had a beard. I believe I've made it clear that I'm not a fan of beards, but it seemed to suit him. And despite the beard he was rather good looking. Really, it only struck me because why does every guy I meet have a beard? Two: he was wearing a suit. I later learned that he had just come from work, but I felt a little out of place in my jeans and button down blouse even though I was technically in place and he was the one who was out of place wearing a suit in a coffee shop. Three: he hugged me. I am not against hugging, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Dude, I don't know you. Take a step back.
Once we got past the awkward hug and into the restaurant, I felt quite comfortable with C2, though he did touch my arm a few more times than I thought was appropriate. We had a good long conversation, learned a lot about each other and caught the flower in the vase on our table on fire via the small candle sitting next to it. I passed up food, explaining that I had already eaten pizza and ordered a chai latte. He had tea and a sandwich. It was a decidedly unpretentious order. I approved. Somehow we ended up talking about board games and switched venues to a bar with board games. We played Connect Four over cocktails.
All in all it was an enjoyable evening with someone who was easy to spend time with, and I am no longer worried about the texting (I think he was just confirming). But, here is what I am worried about: C2 bought my tea at the coffee shop and my appletini at the bar. Perhaps he was just being gentlemanly, but I think he also has significantly more money than I have. He has a career at a major financial institution. He owns his own home. Why would he be interested in dating someone with no career, with a low paying job, with incredible debt? Economically, at least, I am not his equal. I can't afford to go out all the time, but I can't let him pay all the time either. Then I'm indebted to him. He's not going to sacrifice going out because I can't afford it. Perhaps I'm worried about nothing, but it is a foreseeable problem.
Anyway, I'm meeting him again tomorrow.
Anyway, Friday night I met the first guy. We'll call him Contestant Two, or C2 (if you're wondering what happened to C1, it's this guy). Based on his profile, he seemed intelligent and maybe even witty. I wasn't totally sure that we had common interests, but he at least seemed worth meeting. He suggested a coffee shop in the East Village, and after a little internet research, I concluded that it was exactly the sort of place I would enjoy spending time, but that a person who spent time in such an establishment might be a hipster and therefore cooler than me. I also learned that the establishment did not take debit cards and armed myself with cash. I ate pizza before I went, intending to buy a coffee and drink it very slowly to minimize spending. I became a little worried when he texted me multiple times before our date. If he was someone who needed to be in constant contact with everyone he knew, things were not going to work out. Had he texted anyone during our date, I might have left.
When C2 arrived at the locale I had three first impressions of him (no, I don't think that's too many). One: he had a beard. I believe I've made it clear that I'm not a fan of beards, but it seemed to suit him. And despite the beard he was rather good looking. Really, it only struck me because why does every guy I meet have a beard? Two: he was wearing a suit. I later learned that he had just come from work, but I felt a little out of place in my jeans and button down blouse even though I was technically in place and he was the one who was out of place wearing a suit in a coffee shop. Three: he hugged me. I am not against hugging, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Dude, I don't know you. Take a step back.
Once we got past the awkward hug and into the restaurant, I felt quite comfortable with C2, though he did touch my arm a few more times than I thought was appropriate. We had a good long conversation, learned a lot about each other and caught the flower in the vase on our table on fire via the small candle sitting next to it. I passed up food, explaining that I had already eaten pizza and ordered a chai latte. He had tea and a sandwich. It was a decidedly unpretentious order. I approved. Somehow we ended up talking about board games and switched venues to a bar with board games. We played Connect Four over cocktails.
All in all it was an enjoyable evening with someone who was easy to spend time with, and I am no longer worried about the texting (I think he was just confirming). But, here is what I am worried about: C2 bought my tea at the coffee shop and my appletini at the bar. Perhaps he was just being gentlemanly, but I think he also has significantly more money than I have. He has a career at a major financial institution. He owns his own home. Why would he be interested in dating someone with no career, with a low paying job, with incredible debt? Economically, at least, I am not his equal. I can't afford to go out all the time, but I can't let him pay all the time either. Then I'm indebted to him. He's not going to sacrifice going out because I can't afford it. Perhaps I'm worried about nothing, but it is a foreseeable problem.
Anyway, I'm meeting him again tomorrow.
To explain my date with Contestant 3--C3, if you will, I will refer you to the first 14 seconds of the following clip from Scooby Doo.
I was not enthusiastic about meeting C3. I honestly cannot remember why I ever agreed to meet him in the first place. He was one of the first people to message me on OkCupid, and I deleted the message because he didn't sound that interesting. Then he messaged me again and I responded. Maybe it was because I was new to the site and he was paying attention to me. I can't really say. But I agreed to meet him. I think this was in October. Then I thought about it and decided I didn't want to meet him. Then I stopped going to the site for a while and totally forgot about him, but when I returned to the site, there he was. I felt bad for ignoring him for months. According to his profile, we had nothing in common, but I told him to meet me at my favorite coffee shop.
I showed up 15 minutes late, which was not intentional, but was rude. We went into the shop where I bought myself a scone and he bought himself a hot chocolate. Since there was no place to sit, I suggested we walk in the park. C3 was sweet and totally nonthreatening, but it quickly became apparent that he did not know how to hold a conversation. I would ask him a question, and he would respond with one word. He did not elaborate. He did not offer amusing anecdotes. He did not even reciprocate the questions. Sometimes the answers he gave didn't seem relevant to my questions, and on the rare occasions that he spoke more than a few words, the things he said didn't make much sense. He finally started telling me about a trip he'd once taken to DC when he asked for permission to segue. I'd never felt so powerful. "Sure. Go ahead and segue," I said, but it turned out that what he meant by segue was completely change topic. He had no dazzling transition to offer.
Then he asked me what I thought of him, which was incredibly awkward. I said that he seemed nice, but I didn't think we had anything in common. He insisted that he liked books: in high school he read In Cold Blood and he often read the news paper. Luckily, I had made plans to meet a friend for dinner (and for her to hem my pants) exactly two hours after the start of my date with C3, so I wasn't lying when I said I had to leave to bring my pants somewhere.
He called today to ask me to go to a museum with him. I said, "Um............I'm okay." Poor Creeper.
Monday, January 9, 2012
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