Saturday, August 12, 2006

Online Dating is a Numbers Game.

So don't expect exclusivity on a first date.

After spending an hour or two on a Friday night with a certain self-proclaimed "Texas gentleman", I was asked what I was doing for the rest of my weekend. I told him I was visiting my parents, running errands, etc. Then he got to what he really wanted to know.

"Do you have a date tomorrow?"


"Tell me about him."


"Why are you going out with him?"

"Because I want to."

"Why do the girls here go out with more than one guy at a time? It's not like this in Texas."

"Well, I think it's good to meet as many people as possible to find someone you really click with. It's not really a competition or anything."

"I don't understand the women in this area."

After the date, he emailed and told me that he'd like to see me again, but only if I wanted to blow off my Saturday date. Since I'm not much for ultimatums, I wrote back to tell him we shouldn't see each other again.

The " Texas gentleman" then wrote to tell me that he thought I was different, but really I was nothing more than a 'Washington cliché.'

The advice from this story is really three-fold. Don't expect exclusivity too early, don't pry, and don't be a jerk. Three things I think most men can handle.

As for you Texas, do the women in the DC area one favor. Go home.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

105 minutes of the 120 I spent with him were great...

But it’s because of a three minute conversation that I won’t be seeing him again. Here’s the play by play:

7:30: Oh, he’s cuter than I thought he’d be. Yeay!

8:00: He’s nice. I like him.

8:15: Wow. Smart too. I love that he can talk politics. And that he has a job he loves with the Department of Defense. That’s hot.

8:30: He loves hockey and soccer? Yuck. I can get over it though.

8:45: Sounds like he has a good family.

9:00: I’m definitely going to see him again.

And then…

9:15 - 9:18:
So, how do you feel about weed?
Me: About what?
Him: Weed. You know. Smoking pot?
Me: Um, I dunno. To each his own?
Him: Because I do…smoke weed.
Me: You do? Really? Couldn’t you lose your job if you got caught?
Him: Absolutely. That’s why I keep a can of that detox shit in my fridge.
Me: Oh. Don’t your neighbors smell it?
Him: No. I lock myself in my room and filter it through water.
Me: You take bong hits???
Him: Yeah. Only on the weekends though. It’s not addictive you know.
Me: Wow. Bong hits.

9:19: What? Bong hits? Did he really just admit to having a drug problem on the first date?

9:30: Smell you later Cheech.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Are you a Michael-Not-Mike?

Michael-Not-Mike is a bit different from the other guys I've written about, but only because I found him in a bar.

Like every other guy, Michael-Not-Mike seemed ok at first. Cute. Nice smile. Until I called him Mike. Here's how it went down.

Michael-Not-Mike: Hey, how's it going?

Me: Pretty good. How 'bout yourself?

Michael-Not-Mike: Very well, thanks. What brings you here tonight?

Me: Well, my girls came into town tonight so we could go see the Cubs/Nats game. And we headed here afterwards.

Michael-Not-Mike: Oh yeah, how was the game?

Me: Sucked. The Cubs lost.

Michael-Not-Mike: Cubs fan huh?

Me: Yeah.

Michael-Not-Mike: I'm Michael.

Me: It's nice to meet you Mike.

Michael-Not-Mike looks at Me as if just having been called baby killer

Michael-Not-Mike: (fuming) No. It's MICHAEL.

Me: (caught off guard) Oh. Sorry Michael. No one ever calls you Mike?

Michael-Not-Mike: No. Exits stage left

All right. So maybe I shouldn't have taken the liberty of calling him Mike. But is it really that big of a deal? And if a little thing like being called Mike gets him all riled up, he's definitely going to be a Scott Peterson someday.