Right 'Round, 'Round 'Round

The Chicken Thing

Last weekend, I had dinner with a couple of friends at SPIN: Modern Thai Cuisine.

If I hadn't read yelp reviews prior to meeting my group there, I would've had no idea that this small restaurant is located in a strip center, around the corner from a Target.  Not something you advertise on your restaurant website, I suppose?  I managed to find it, and my friends and I were greeted by our reservation name as soon as we walked in.  The restaurant was about 60% full, so I'm sure we were the only 7pm reservation for 3 that Saturday night.

The kitchen was open to the restaurant, and the entire room smelled like Thai tastiness.  Luckily, my clothes and hair didn't absorb the fragrance to take home with me at the end of the evening.  Our waitress was friendly, and told us she would go ahead and put in an order for the fried sweet corn appetizer: if we didn't like it, she'd pay for it.  I love corn, and I'd already been eyeing that item anyway, so we agreed.  She also filled us in on the specials, which were a chicken dish, a fish dish (snapper), and something I don't remember.

I ordered an (eight dollar!) Thai Basil Mint Sangria, and it was very tasty:  cool and refreshing.

The corn appetizer came out quickly, and it was delicious.  By then, we'd decided on our orders.  I chose the chicken special, one of my friends chose the snapper, and the other chose an eggplant dish with the sauce on the side.  Our waitress told us that she'd realized she hadn't told us the names of the specials, so she rattled off lots of words in another language.  All I remember is that the word for "chicken" is "guy," but that doesn't really help me describe my dish.  It was fried chicken bits, with mushrooms, and chilantro, slices of radish, and brown sauce.

Shorly after we placed our order, the manager came over to our table.  He asked if we liked spicy food.  I said yes while my friends side-eyed me.  He brought over a dish that he told us the kitchen made extra, and offered it to us "on him."  We quickly realized it was the dish one of my friends had ordered, except the sauce wasn't on the side.  Still, we sampled it, and it was very good. The sauce wasn't spicy--I'd give it half a pepper on their rating system.

A few minutes later, the manager delivered the snapper.  I had to point him in the right direction of the gal who'd ordered it.  We expected the rest of our dishes to arrive then, but no.  About 10 minutes later, he delivered an eggplant dish, sauce on the side.  Our waitress arrived on his heels, and apologized for the screw up of the first dish--so much for the manager acting like it was a free treat for us--as well as the delay on my food.  It took almost ten more minutes for my plate to arrive.

My entree was excellent.  The waitress had told us it was her new favorite dish, and that it was "slap yo' mamma" good.  While it was definitely one of the best Thai dishes I've tried in Austin, I would've enjoyed it more if it had arrived at the same time as my companions' dinner(s).  We could see the kitchen from our table (as can most), and I know our plates weren't sitting around waiting to be delivered.  This was simply a kitchen time management error.  I saw circumstances like this mentioned in other reviews, and was disappointed to experience it myself.  We also felt a little rushed to pay our check and leave, although no one was waiting to be seated, but the restaurant was full when we left just before 9pm.  The food and service may lure me back to Spin, but if they haven't worked out their kitchen issues by then, I'd think twice before a third trip.

Good Days

For all the complaining, and angst, and esteem crushing I've experienced in the internet dating world lately, some days are good days.  I recently felt like a hot tamale--as if I was totally winning at not only internet dating, but also life.

I had a busy Thursday night.  I sent my application in for a job I think I'd really enjoy at a company I'd love to work for.  I had an email from HockeyGuy, who told me (a variety of things but also that) he really likes tall women. Bonus for me! I responded.  I sent an email to BrightGuy, who seemed funny and smart.  And then, Super Crush appeared in my list of match ups.

Ahhh, Super Crush.  He's a fella I noticed months ago online, probably last fall.  He's five years older than me, smart, and seemed like a grown-up.  Plus his pictures included him not only holding a baby (nephew), but also wearing a goofy costume and mustache with costumed friends. I emailed him back then, and never heard back.  Much to my immense surprise, I received an email from him in late January.  I hadn't been online in weeks, and was about to shut down my account to focus on the fella I'd been dating for several weeks.  He apologized for the delay in getting back to me, and made a joke about the costume he was wearing in his photo.  He was charming, and I had maybe only 30 seconds of "ooohhhh. . ." before I gleefully realized I didn't care. I was too into the fella I was dating, and wasn't interested in Super Crush.  I emailed him, thanked him for the note, and told him I had been seeing someone and was taking a break from online dating to focus on the current guy.  He replied and wished me luck.

So when he showed up on my list, I decided to go ahead and email him. I made some joke about the profile he was looking for being now available.  Sure enough, he not only emailed me back, he emailed me back a mere hour later!  Yes, a fella actually responded right away instead of playing some sort of "must wait so as not to appear too interested" game.  He had saved my last email, cut and pasted it into his reply, and asked what happened--had I "broken the poor guy's heart?"

I replied (the next day, since I was already on my way to bed when his email came through) with a brief summary of what had happened, that no hearts were broken.  (Well, except mine, just a little bit, but I kept that to myself.)  And then I turned dumb and made some stupid joke.  Sigh.  What is it about this guy?  I figured it out:  he'd changed his profile to include that he's a certified personal trainer.  I don't know if that's his job, or a hobby--his photos indicate that he might wear a suit to work, so I'm not sure what's up with that. In any case, would I feel comfortable being naked in front of a fella who is a personal trainer?  No.  Hell no. Plus my previous long-standing crush was interfering with my ability to think straight when I emailed him.  As soon as I hit send, I regretted it.

Friday I also had a message from BrightGuy, who seems awesome.  I replied. 

J2, who is halfway through his 2 weeks of traveling, continues to randomly email me, and I responded to him.

And then, as if emailing with four different fellas wasn't already inflating my ego to epic proportions, I got an email from TallDude.  I'd emailed him a week prior and forgotten all about it.  He told me he'd been traveling, and just saw my email.  Except, he used lots of exclamation points and seemed a little dumb.  But a cute tall dude emailing me??  Yes please!  I responded.

I floated on a cloud of hope and possibility all day Friday and Saturday.  For the first time ever, I was emailing not just one or two guys who I might want to go on a date with, I was emailing FIVE.  I told friends of my "dating" fortune and success with disbelief on Saturday night.  Five, friends!  Five!  And the job I applied for hasn't even told me no!  (Or, anything at all other than they received my resume and cover letter.)  Stuff could be happening.

Sunday evening, I logged on to the dating site.  Not a peep from any of my five.  Most of them had viewed my profile in the past couple of days, though.  To decide that they didn't want to stay in touch with me?  Perhaps.  And indeed, I've heard nothing as of Monday afternoon. At least I had a couple of good days, right?

Except now I'm afraid to check the status of my job application.  Maybe tomorrow. . .

Open Letter

Dear Internet Dating Fellas:

You're doing it wrong.

Maybe your lack of skill in the internet dating world is endearing to some, but those women?  Probably not the right ones for you.  Also, likely the reason you're still internet dating instead of settling down with some fantastic lady.  So let's assume you're a smart, normal guy, and that's why one of these fantastic ladies (*cough* me *cough*) has enjoyed your profile enough to reach out to you via email.  This is a very critical stage, where you can move forward successfully by asking yourself some key questions:

1. Have I enjoyed this delightful email enough to check out her profile?
If no, immediately proceed to the NO THANK YOU button.  Press it.  Go on and live your life.

If yes, review her profile.

2. Do her profile and photos suggest that she passes any arbitrary standards I have for a date?
If no, immediately proceed to the NO THANK YOU button.  Press it.  Go on and live your life.

If yes, respond to her email.  Answer whatever questions she's asked you, or respond in a clever way to the creative and attention-catching remarks she's make on your profile and/or photos.

And now, the important part:

Ask her some questions of your own.  You may not even have to think up any, you may be able to just say something like "of course I like breakfast tacos, and my favorite ones come from TacoDeli.  What about you?"  See how easy that is?? 

Imagine the email you're typing like your portion of a conversation.  When you're with someone in person, do you just yammer along and never pause to see what their thoughts are on any topic?  Of course not.  (I mean, not if you want a second date. Or to get anywhere in polite society.)

In summary, even if you just skimmed this brief open letter, take two things away.  One: no thank you button.  Just press it.  Two:  ask questions.  It helps you get closer to an actual date.

XO,
The Lady

In related news, J2 actually responded to my email after he told me he wanted to just keep corresponding for now.  He commented briefly on his favorite vacation destinations, and asked if I'd ever been to Gourdough's.  Like, asked in the middle of a paragraph about where he likes to travel to.  And that was the only question he asked me.  I really wonder why he continues to email me.  I'll respond, of course.  At this point, I'm curious to see how far we can drag this out.  Especially since I neither feel the need to get back to him quickly nor ever again suggest we meet.  That's all on him.

Also: HockeyGuy emailed me.  Two weeks after I'd originally emailed him, he responded to my brilliant email and told me he'd been really busy at work.  Okay.  I replied, and today received a second email from him.  This email was pretty long, but was another speech instead of his part of the conversation.  The only question he asked in the entire multi-paragraph letter was "5'10", huh?" in reference to my height, which I had not mentioned, but is contained in my profile.  I'm not corresponding with you for my health, fella.  Are we going somewhere with this? He's six years older than me, surely he's got a handle on how to talk to ladies by now?

I refuse to believe my standards are too high.

Meanwhile, Pants.  Ah. . .Pants.  He of the description which told tale of trying to find everything I'd say to someone about myself.  Plus, he's cute and tall.  But also kindof nerdy.  I emailed him, he wasn't online for three weeks. . .and last night I saw that he was online.  Answering my email?  Looking at my profile?  None of these.  Sigh. 

Crusher

Sometimes, online dating feels a little soul-crushing. I keep at it because I've had some luck in the past, and certainly I know a bunch of women who've found their fella through the internet.  But lately, I feel like I'm talking to myself.  Here's what's going on in my internet dating world:

The Pilot: His profile makes a joke about how he's an ex-NBA guard and retired space shuttle pilot who is seeking a greek goddess with a passport.  He goes on to write a lot about who he actually is and the kind of person he hopes to meet.  He seems funny, successful, and handsome.  I send him a delightful email about how I've been hoping to meet a retire space shuttle pilot (etc.), and hear nothing back.  I see that he's revised his profile in the few weeks since my email, and given even more tempting information about himself.  He's forgotten to include that he doesn't understand how to press the "no thanks" button. 

The Magic Number: A world traveler who likes to learn new things.  He thinks all that matters are trust and loyalty.  I send him an email making a guess about his "motto" (which is a latin phrase I recognized) and his user name.  He responds that I'm correct, and also compliments me for being a smart cookie.  I reply with just the kind of smart but witty email one might expect.  He never responds.  A recent check of his profile reveals that he has changed his marital status from "divorced" to "currently seperated."  Ummm, what the what now?  His explanation is that he married a woman in another country, and they had to apply to the government for a divorce.  They've lived apart for a year, and have been waiting for 10 months for divorce approval.  He didn't want to be dishonest.  Oh.  No thank you, no.

The Widower:  He has two children.  He's cute and tall, and claims that he'll make a lady laugh (multiple exclamation points!)!  I send him a pretty good email about one of his photos, where it looks like he's making an "I'm about to do something awesome" face.  He doesn't respond.  He is not awesome.

The Midwesterner:  He's cute, and seems nice and funny, so I disregard the fact that more than one of his profile photos are of him sitting in his car.  I send him a breezy email where I focus on one of his photos, which looks like it was taken in Vegas.  Evidently, what happens in Vegas does actually stay in Vegas sometimes, because I never hear back from him.

North Austin Cyclist:  I am a bit reluctant to reach out to NAC, since my former flame is a South Austin Cyclist.  But I figured I'd gotten used to dating a man who shaves his legs, so what the hell?  NAC has many of the qualities I'm seeking.  Except the most important one, which is Responds to My Email.

Pants:  I immediately develop a crush on him after reading his profile.  He takes hyperbole to new heights. The woman he's looking for describes me exactly.  I am certain he'll respond to my hilarious email right away, even though it seems like he hasn't been online in two weeks.  Clearly he has spent that time off the internet just waiting to hear from me, meet me, and fall madly in love with me.  Yet. . .even though the email system shows that he receives my email, his status still claims he hasn't been online in weeks.  What?  I've yet to hear from him, and he allegedly still hasn't been online.

Damian Lewis:  Not the actor, just his doppleganger.  He claims to have little patience for people who don't treat others with dignity and respect.  Oh really, Damian?  How about pressing that "no thank you" button, since you don't seem to be interested DESPITE my lovely email?

HockeyGuy:  Claims he knows how to fold a fitted sheet.  I don't have to pretend to be impressed; I actually am, and tell him so.  His profile includes photos of penguins somewhere snowy/frozen, so I ask him if he's cheering for the Penguins in the playoffs.  That's right: I like hockey, too, Hockey Guy!  It says so right in my profile!  Of course if he is cheering for the Pens, then I am glad because I think the Bruins will crush them.  And then it won't matter than he never responded.

R2:  At first glance, he looks remarkably like an really cute version of my high school prom date.  After verifying that he is not, in fact, my actual high school prom date (who was just a friend, who went through a very very weird phase in/just after college, and who is my FB friend now and is back to nice enough and also very much in a relationship), I can relax and enjoy reading his funny profile.  He is sarcastic and witty!  He is tall!  I send him a sarcastic and witty email, only to hear nothing in return.  The next day, I am checking out a bar on yelp, and realize the first reviewer is him.  Yep, using the same profile photo as his internet dating account.  And the review is from 2008?  After. . .well, after I read all the reviews he'd done on yelp (What?? There were less than 10! I had some free time!), I decided I was glad he didn't respond.  Hey fella, I know you weren't interested enough in me to email me (or tell me "no thanks!"), but I would like to now go back in time and retroactively ignore you instead of emailing you.  Okay?

J2: Claims to be right in the middle of "boy next door" and "alternative."  Seems smart, has tattoos.  Also claims to be a nice guy who's a little shy.  Awww!  We begin emailing, after I joke with him about his email being flooded due to his nice guy admission.  After a few pleasant enough emails back and forth, I tell him I've enjoyed pen pal-ing around with him, and think it might be fun to ask him a bunch of questions in person over beverages.  He asks me about my favorite bars, and I respond.  I ask him for his favorites.  He responds.  And. . .does not include any sort of question or statement that might move forward a plan to meet.  Does this guy want to meet me or what?  He has nearly crushed any desire I had to meet him. 

So I email him and tell him I am not always good at reading signals in dating situations, so I am not exactly sure what's going on.  I directly ask him if he is interested in meeting, if he wants to continue to get to know each other via email (which would, I think, include him asking me more than one question at a time?), or if he just isn't feeling a connection and would like to move along.  I suspect I will hear nothing from him, but he surprises me by emailing back and telling me he loves a direct approach.  Huh.  Odd, considering that seems like the opposite of how he's been approaching me, but okay.  He would like to continue emailing for now, not because he doens't want to meet, but because he's going to be out of town for the next couple of weeks for work and an out of town wedding. 

I responded and told him I'd be happy to continue to get to know each other via email for now, and delved into some "getting to know you" type questions/conversation.  NOW is when I'll probably never hear from him again.  Ehhh, whatever.

Just Resting

I met Doug after sending out a flurry of emails one weekend on the internet dating site.  My goal at the time--nearly a year ago now--was date quantity over quality.  His brilliant and witty response?  "I'm interested.  When should we meet?"  I understand that not all fellas are wordy, so I responded and over the course of several brief emails, we determined a time/place to meet. 

That evening, I approached the pub and saw a guy waiting outside.  The guy was both shorter and wider than Doug's internet profile pictures, but the guy was Doug.  Fine, okay, some people don't have their most up-to-date photos online.  Perhaps Doug would win me over with his personality.

Inside, we sat at the bar and ordered food.  I find sitting at a bar a little awkward on a first (blind) date, since I prefer to look a person in the face when I'm talking to them.  Doug evidently wanted to look everywhere in the bar except my face.  At one point, while I was answering a question he'd asked me, I was pretty sure he was watching the television on the wall above and slightly to the left of my head.

Doug had a lot of stories about his rugby team, even though he was no longer playing due to injury.  Doug thought the best way to spice up these stories was by frequent use of foul language.  So, I've heard this kind of language before.  I've used this kind of language before.  But, I try to put my best foot forward on a first date, and this includes using actual vocabulary as descriptive language--not just "fuckin'" this or "muthafuckin'" that.  I was particularly surprised by this lack of self-editing on Doug's part because he told me he was in sales.  Don't sales people have to make good impressions?  Perhaps that could've explained Doug's currently unemployed status.

After we ate, Doug suggested we move to a booth.  A corner booth had just opened up, so we moved over.  Doug regaled me with stories about his roommates:  one, a girl he'd met because she'd dated several of his friends (but he wasn't interested in her because "she's fuckin' crazy, man"), and the other, a lesbian woman (but "it's okay, she's the pretty kind").

By this point in the evening, Doug and I were each on our second beer.  I generally have a first date two drink maximum, but I was drinking pretty quickly to try and wrap things up.  Doug got about halfway through his beer before he decided to recline in his portion of the booth.  Yes, Doug laid down in the booth as if it was his couch at home.  I asked him if he was okay, and he told me he was just resting. 

Time to wrap up the date!  I told him I'd had a long day, and needed to get home.  He'd started paying a lot of attention to his phone, and told me some of his rugby friends were all meeting up at a different bar.  He begged me to join him.  I honestly wondered if he'd make it there.  Was he drunk?  Tired?  In any case, I was headed home.

Doug insisted on walking me to my car, which was just down the street.  At my car, he held out his arms for a hug, and I obliged.  As I pulled away, he leaned his face in close. . .and licked my neck.  Somehow I managed not to kick him in the nuts; I simply retreated quickly into my car.

He emailed me the next day via the dating site, and told me he'd really enjoyed our date, etc.  I responded that I didn't feel a connection with him (and unless he wanted to feel a connection between his scrotum and my shoe); we shouldn't see each other again.  He replied that he was sorry, he thought he probably came across as too forward, and that wasn't "really him."

Yeah.  I'll never know the real Doug.

Dark Arts

I had one (crazy) date with Harry Potter, and then he went on vacation with his family for 12 days.  I like my family, but TWELVE days?  Hell no. 

Sure enough, upon his return, he emailed me a trip report (including photos), his thoughts on the book Princess Bride (which we discovered we were both starting during our first date), and an inquiry about when we might get together again.

One of my friends had suggested that I should maybe give the guy a solid second chance.  After all, he was tall, not ugly, smart, and employed.  All things I look for in a potential mate.  Of course he was also really weird--and not in a way I enjoyed--and lived really far from me and had a dog, but since I'm all about being open these days, I agreed to his suggestion of a date, and we scheduled a Sunday night at Lambert's.

Lambert's is a BBQ joint.  He'd told me on our first date that he was vegetarian at home due to health issues, but ate meat in restaurants. . .and followed that up with a story about going to Fogo de Chao with friends.  Apparently, he was seeking to prove his public meat-eating ways with his restaurant choice.  Except, when we ordered, he went with the daily fish special.  Uhhh. . .??

Anyway, the date was fine.  A little boring.  Somewhat less weird that the first date: he only put his head down on the table briefly to laugh.  He acted like he thought I may have been using some sort of mind control game on him when I told him the book I'd just started reading because it was next on his list, too.  I was reading the book for book club, he was reading it because a friend of his suggested it.  Obviously, I took this opportunity to make vague references to Dark Arts (Harry Potter humor, ha ha ha!) and joked that it was possible the friend who recommended the book to him was the same person who suggested it to my book club and they were definitely probably an evil sorceror whose name we should never speak.  (He who must not be named, ha ha ha!)  I couldn't tell if he was joking with the idea that I'd somehow influenced him to read the book, or if he honestly believed I might be able to do something like that.  Not being able to tell if someone is joking is a fairly good indicator to me that we are not on any sort of future date track.

He walked me to my car after dinner, and I mentally prepared myself for another weird hug. (When he hugged me--twice--during our first date, he did some sort of weird floppy thing with his hand on my back. Try this right now: flip your hand back to front pretty quickly, and then give yourself a slight squeeze with that same hand.  A little creepy, right?)  Instead, he said "How about a kiss?" and leaned towards me with his face scrunched up and lips pressed out like a fish. 

I almost pushed him away from me.  Somehow, I restrained my hands, and squealed out "Oh the cheek?" as I turned my head.  He opened his eyes, fish mouth intact, to see if I was indeed offering my cheek.  He gave me a light kiss there.  I started backing away from him.  "I might be getting a cold, see. . ."  I fumbled with my words and my keys.  "I don't want you to catch anything. . ."  He said he didn't care, but I responded that I did as I jumped into my car and waved.  Ugh.

As soon as I arrived home, I emailed him to apologize for the awkward ending to our evening, and to tell him that I'd suddenly realized I wasn't feeling a romantic connection to him, so I couldn't in good conscience give him a kiss.  Or, I don't know. . .I said something nice and normal and actually probably pretty weird.  He responded that he understood and thanked me for letting him know and wished me luck.  Evanesco!*

*I learned this on the internet; it's the name of the vanishing spell from Harry Potter.

Last Chance

It's time to wrap up the story of Sgt. Younger, and move along. 

The Sgt. was not keeping up at keeping in touch with me, but we finally found a time to go out.  We had dinner and afterwards adjourned to my house.  Our conversation ranged all over the map; we even talked about the economy.  Although--I confess--during that portion of the conversation I was having trouble concentrating on talk about the gold standard because his arm was around me and we were snuggled up on the couch.  He stayed over, he accidentally left his watch behind.  I returned it a couple of days later, dropping it off on my way home from a workout.  I felt giggly around him.

Still, he remained mostly out of touch.  Every time I got in touch with him felt like I was begging him for attention.  I felt like I was looking at him from the end of a very long street; I could barely see him.

He suggested we get together for a Sunday Funday:  he wanted to shop the farmer's market, make lunch, and spend the day together.  I was almost giddy at the idea.  Even saying it outloud was grin-inducing.  Sunday Funday!  Naturally, we didn't decide on a time.  I didn't press him on it.  I was chill with the easy-going flow.

That Sunday, he texted me around 10am.  Turns out the Farmer's Market isn't open on Sundays.  How about lunch at 1:30?  I agreed, and wondered if our day would still be fun.  Would we be making lunch?  Going for a swim?  How long was this date going to last?

I texted him when I left my house:  Sunday Funday!  I'm on my way, see you in 5.

(no response)

I arrived at the gate of his complex, and dialed his code:  "I'm sorry, this voice mail box is full."

(hmmm)

I texted him again:  I'm at your gate, and your vm box is full.  I guess I'll wait and follow someone else in?

(nothing. about 5 minutes later, I followed someone else in.)

Another text:  I'm in!  I guess I'll be knocking on your door shortly.

(silence.)  I decided to give him a few minutes.  Maybe he was in the shower?  Maybe he had run out to the store and was driving back?  I sat in my car for 5 minutes before knocking on his door.

No answer.  I called him; no answer, voicemail full.  I knocked again.  Still no answer.  Hmmm.

Text:  Hey, I'm knocking on your door, but you're not answering.  Not sure what to do here!

This whole process had taken about 20 minutes.  I suddenly had a terrible thought:  he's dead in his apartment.  He's fallen in the shower and he can't get up.  He alcohol poisoned himself, and is dying on the couch.  Something has gone horrible wrong.  My heart started to race.  I didn't know the protocol for that sort of situation.  Go home?  Knock/call/text some more?  I was very worried.  I knocked again.  Again, nothing.

I decided to press my ear against his door to see if I could hear anything inside.  Like, shouts for help?  I don't know.  As I leaned against the door, straining for a sound, the door opened slightly.  It wasn't locked.

Oh.  Oh shit.

Now what?  My heart was about to pound out through my chest.  I got out my cell phone, put down my bag, and opened the door.

"Sgt.?"

"Sgt.?  It's Myname!"

Silence.  Total silence.

I went inside, and started walking towards his bedroom, where the door was barely open.  I kept saying his name, and mine.  I was three-quarters of the way there, when his door flew open.  I froze with a gasp.

"Oh, hey,"  he said.  "I was asleep."

That's right.  He'd spend the night drinking with his friends, came home in the wee hours, took a nap, got up and texted me and started cleaning around his place, laid down in his bed, and fell asleep.  A very deep sleep apparently.  His phone ringer was off.  He had no idea why his voicemail would be full.  He was really, really sorry.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.  "I thought you were dead."  I turned away from him and walked back towards the door.  "I'm going to go."

I didn't want to be there anymore.  I didn't want to have any sort of day with him.  I was annoyed, and I felt like a crazy person.  Who goes into someone's home under those circumstances?  Why couldn't I have just texted him to get in touch with me when he could because I was worried, and gone home?  I just felt done. 

But, he came after me.  He gave me a hug and told me he wanted to go to lunch.  He just needed a minute to get ready.  (He was pretty disheveled.  I briefly wondered when his last shower might have been.)  I told him I'd wait outside.

I almost drove off.  But, I made myself stay.  I felt like I needed to make an effort to let him know I was not okay with how the day was going, but also make an effort to let it go.  I am a grudge-holder, a pouter.  If I could get over this, I would feel like a better person.

In his car, on the way to lunch, I told him I was having a hard time.  But I didn't explain myself well, and he spent the time trying to act like this wasn't weird or a big deal.  Maybe he's been on other dates that began with a lady waking him up from a hungover stupor in the past?  I don't know, but I don't want occurances like that to be a part of my life.  I'm well out of college.

Lunch was okay.  Afterwards, he suggested watching a movie.  I asked him if he wanted me to go, so he could take a nap "or whatever" but he insisted that he wanted me to stay.  We started watching Goodfellas or some mafia movie he found on television.  He kept yawning.  I asked him again if he wanted to take a nap.  No, no, of course not.  More movie.  More yawning.  I told him I was going to go, and he said he'd probably be asleep within minutes after I left.  Whatever, dude.

He'd planned a road trip with friends for the next weekend, and we texted briefly a couple of times before he left.  He aplogized again "for being such a dud" and I wished him well on his road trip.  The week after he returned, I didn't hear from him, so that Thursday I left him a voicemail.

"Hey!  I hope you had a fun trip.  I thought you might be starting to miss me, so I called to catch up.  Give me a buzz!"

Nothing.  So that Saturday--almost two weeks after the not at all Funday Sunday--I left another message:

"Hi. Since I haven't heard from you, I assume you've decided to just stop talking to me.  If that's the case, I'm feeling disappointed, because I expected better from you, and that's a chickenshit move.  If we aren't going to talk again, I'll just take this opportunity to let you know that I've enjoyed starting to get to know you, and had fun spending time with you.  Take care."

Much nicer a message than I felt like leaving, but I didn't want to be ugly.  I just wanted to tell him the truth.

Couple of hours later, he texted me:

"Whoa! Just heard the beginning of your message, and I certainly don't intend to just stop contact. I hurt my back over the weekend and have felt terrible all week. I didn't feel like talking."

Huh.  Or texting?  Really?  REALLY?

Me:  "I'm sorry you're hurt.  I wish you'd listened to my entire message."

Him:  I just listened to the whole thing.

M:  Look (Sgt.), I like you, and I like spending time with you.  I haven't heard from you in a while or seen you in a while, and felt ignored. I thought you were the kind of person who would tell me if you weren't in to me or whatever, so I was surprised when I just heard nothing from you. 

H: I'm sorry I hurt your feelings.  This has been a bad week.

M: I hope you feel better soon.  Please let me know if you need anything.

H: Thx. I'll get in touch when I feel better.

(Yeah, right.)

Except he did text a couple of days later.  We had a brief text chat about how he was starting to feel better.  The next evening, I texted him, and we went back and forth a couple of times.  It seemed flirty, and fun. My last text said "Hey, do you have plans for Friday night?"

And I never heard from him again.

And I (so far) haven't run into him in our grocery store, either.  I bet he's shopping at odd times to avoid me.  Sometimes I wonder how I would react if I rounded the corner of the bread aisle, and there he was, right in front of me.  Would I smile?  Pretend I didn't know him?  Freeze and gasp for breath?  I may never know.