One hell of a red flag

I have been hit on a time or two in my life, but never with quite the approach of the panhandler this afternoon.  It went a little something like this…

 He says hello and shakes his cup of change at me as I walk past him.  I do not put anything in the cup, I just smile and return his hello and do not pause as I walk by.  As I pass him, I hear him say, “Whoa, you are gorgeous!”  I have passed him by this point, so he starts shouting behind me, “HEY!  HEY!!!!  ARE YOU SPOKEN FOR!?!”  I’m half a block away and walking briskly and pretending I didn’t hear him.  I still hear him, he’s still yelling, “JUST SHAKE YOUR HEAD YES OR NO IF YOU’RE SPOKEN FOR.”  I’m so far away by this point and it’s weird now b/c I know he’s still watching me.  I nod my head for yes, awkwardly looking around to see if anyone else is witnessing this.  I can still hear his response, “Awww, maaaaan.  Should’ve known.”
 

I can’t help but think there were a couple things he should’ve known.  The first of which being that asking a woman for change does not often lead to them going out with you.  I mean, if a girl doesn’t even give you a quarter, don’t you think that’s a big jump to ask for a date?  Okay, I’m sure that he was not truly banking on me being his destiny, but he was yelling so loudly and assertively that it was funny, and a little embarrassing that he called so much attention to us both.  I laughed in disbelief as I continued walking, but I couldn’t help entertaining this idea.  A panhandler just insistently demanded to know if I was spoken for.  What if I had said no?  Would he have summoned me back?  Chased me down?  Asked me out?  Eventually wore me down until I gave him either my phone number or a dollar?  Who knows!  I also started to wonder – if he took me out to dinner, would I have to pay for it?  Would his panhandling carry over into all aspects of his life?  Or is that just what he does to make money, and he otherwise lives a normal life and goes out on dates and such?  I don’t know.  It’s a mystery.  I will never know because I did not tell him I was available, I told him I was spoken for.  Not by another guy, but by my commitment to remain single and not date panhandlers.  I once dated a guy who lost his job shortly after we started seeing each other.  That was close enough for me.

Online dating woes, volume I

I’ve decided I’m not a huge fan of online dating.  I like dating in general, but maybe I’m just not good at online dating. 

For me, the hardest part of dating is always feeling like I’m hurting someone’s feelings.  Life is full of rejection anyway and I don’t like to be the person dishing it out.  But when you’re a person who is happy being single and not looking for a relationship, there will inevitably be someone else who wants more.  If someone is looking for a relationship, the best thing to do is to stay friends and keep things uncomplicated.  There have been times when I’ve gone out with guys and been up-front about not wanting a relationship, but they either don’t believe me or else they change their mind.  At any rate, the most uncomfortable situation for me to be in is to tell a guy I’m not interested in more than just casually dating.  I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and it’s nothing personal, I’m just not interested.  It’s hard to tell someone that.  Of all the bullshit that comes with dating, feeling like I’m hurting someone’s feelings is the hardest. 

Okay, I realize that no one is going to eat a bullet because a girl on a dating site did not respond to their message, but I’ve gotten a number of messages since I signed up and I can’t even read most of them because I’m not a member.  Actually, I don’t feel much guilt about not responding to the ones I can’t read because they either don’t know how the site works, or haven’t looked at my profile.  But some of the guys who have a paid membership have sent me messages that I can read, and I still don’t respond to all of them.  At first I responded to more, but then one of the guys got a bit… carried away.  I was polite, straightforward, and never told him my real name or shared any information with him other than the pics on the site.  I explained that I read his profile where he talks about the kind of girl he’s looking for, and I told him that I am not what he’s looking for.  I am not looking for a relationship, I’m just checking out the site and not looking for anything in particular .  I don’t know if this person took that as a challenge or where things went downhill, but what followed was a barrage of messages, “What makes you think you’re not the girl for me without even giving me a chance?”  and I explain that he has a very nice explanation of what he wants in a girl in his profile.  It’s very nice and I’m sure many girls are looking for the same thing.  I am not one of them.  But the guy wouldn’t let it go.  “I wish you would just take a chance and see what happens.  All I am asking is just a chance to know you better.  I really think we would get along great.”  He said this same message in no less than twelve different ways.  The “let’s see what happens” line was a red flag.  Obviously he thinks something will change if we hang out and I’m not interested in pursuing any of this but the more I say I’m not interested, the more intense he becomes with his protests.  After a while he began to sound angry and it was very intimidating. 

The conversation devolved and for a few days I was afraid to talk to anyone for fear of having to justify everything.  Another guy sent me a message and I checked out his profile but did not respond.  He then sent another message, “I saw you looking at my profile, why not say hello?”  and this message reached me at the height of my frustration, so I actually did respond to this one by saying, “No, I’m not going to respond to you because then I’ll tell you that I’m not interested in a relationship and you’ll ask me why not and then I’ll say that it’s not going to work out and then you’ll argue with me and then you’ll get mad and then seventeen messages later I’ll be afraid of you and frustrated and considering  blocking you because of your irate messages.  So no, I’m not going to respond to you.”  Which, was supposed to be funny because, obviously, I did respond to him with the words, “I’m not going to respond to you.”  Well, he replied lightheartedly and he clearly saw the humor in it.  However, he then went on to tell me that he lives with his girlfriend and his two children and was not interested in a relationship either, just sex.  Oy!  What have I gotten myself into?

Well, it turned out that the baby daddy did not take no for an answer any easier than his predecessor.  This was a few weeks ago, and I took some time off from visiting the site because it got way too intense.  I have no interest in flirting with another woman’s boyfriend.  I have no interest in arguing with someone all the reasons why he should not go out with me.  These things are not fun.  I don’t like turning guys down and I’m not a rude person, but it seemed like every time I looked at someone’s profile, they would send a message, “Hey, I saw you checking out my profile, now you have to say hello!”  and then it got to the point where I didn’t even want to look at anyone’s profile because apparently if someone looks at their profile, they are entitled to acknowledgement of some sort?  It got kinda crazy. 

I’ve grown more apprehensive about talking to people on the site, but I still get screwball messages from guys and they are starting to all sound alike after a while.  I think this must be inevitable with online dating.  If you read enough profiles and messages, it gets harder to find ones that stand out?  I don’t know.  This is actually the most exposure I’ve had to online dating, and I think I’m on a site that has far more guys than girls.  I think I need some help, ladies!!

What would’ve happened?

I was on the Metro at lunchtime the other day, heading back to work.  (Oh! and minding my own business.  That’s an important detail to the story.)  As I sat in the window seat, reading my Express newspaper and minding my own business, it was hard to ignore the guy who sat down next to me.  It’s not that he was good-looking.  Though he wasn’t bad-looking, either.  He just called attention to himself by trying to not to call attention to himself. 

See if you can follow me here… Before the guy sat down next to me, he paused.  As if he was changing his mind, then changing his mind back again, and finally deciding to sit down.  I moved my jacket out of the way and he said, “Sorry.”  He gave me a look and kinda blushed and smiled.  It was a look that either said, “I think you’re pretty and I want to talk to you.” or, “I have never been on a subway before and am not sure what sort of interaction is expected of me.”  Whatever was behind the look, the blush or the awkwardness, the guy was rube.  It was kind of cute, but definitely a rube. 

As we sat, he looked over a couple of times, acted like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth and looked down at his papers.  I am very skillful at avoiding interaction on the Metro, so I was engrossed in my Express beyond interruption.  (By Invitation Only?  Oh please tell me more!!) 

So, I get to the movie section of the paper and there’s a flick I would like to see.  I wonder.  What would happen if I just turned to him, and enthusastically said, “This looks good.  Let’s go see it!”  Can you do that?  Would it ever work like that?  Could you just turn to a stranger and say, “Rent is playing at the Keegan Theatre, wanna go?”  Were I just a little more ballsy, I may have tried it this experiment.  But then, all the “what if”s went through my head.  What if he’s married or engaged?  Then I’ve just asked a married man on a date.  That’s no good.  What if he says yes, but he’s crazy?  Then I’m stuck with a crazy person and I have no one blame but myself.  What if he’s married AND crazy?  There are just too many variables here.  I won’t be asking anyone out on Metro anytime soon.  Unless he’s so super hot I’m indifferent to whether he is crazy or turns me down.  I haven’t seen one that hot in a while, though.  Definitely not in DC.

All of this went through my head as the rube sat awkwardly next to me.  When the train approached my station, I folded my paper and gripped my handbag, giving those subtle warning signs like we do in DC.  The My-stop-is-next-so-please-be-prepared-to-move paper shuffle and handbag grab combo.  The train stopped, I said, “Excuse me” and leaned forward to get out of my seat.  He jumped up and said, “Oh!  Sorry!”  The poor guy dropped the paperwork he was holding all over the ground.  We both reached to pick it up, then I realized – lunch hour is over, that door is going to close & my employer is on the other side of it.  So, I left the guy to pick up his paperwork and dashed out the doors onto the platform.  No date, no interaction, possibly leaving him feeling bad about himself.  But he did have the entire seat to himself!

I can only hope that he effectively reads body language and could tell that I genuinely felt bad about leaving him picking paperwork off the floor of the train car.  He apologized to me twice.  Once when I moved my coat, and once when he had to move so I could get out.  Neither of these warranted an apology.  But then, maybe when you’re a rube, you just apologize a lot.  I don’t know, but I do know this.  If I meet a hottie on Metro while I’m reading the movie section of the Express, I’m gonna ask him to a movie and see what happens.  If he’s really really hot, I’ll pick a newspaper up off the floor, flip to the movie section furiously, and try to act casual as I hit on the guy.  Then I’ll probably apologize twice and pick my pride up off the floor as I watch him dash away.

Flirtation as a second language

Last week some friends and I went to a bar on U Street. We had a few drinks, a hookah or two, and then the next morning all four of us called in sick for work. Fun night, terrible hangover!

On our road to hangover hell, I was the only person at our table who wanted to dance. My friends pointed across the room, “Go dance with that guy.” “That guy” would be the one dancing by himself all night long with the flipped up collar and the goofy grin on his face. The one who looks really desperate. You’ve seen his type before. Pretty sure the friends were just making fun, but yeah, that’s the guy I went to go dance with. At least someone wanted to dance, what the hell!

So, I go out to dance with this guy who, no kidding, has been making a spectacle of himself the whole time we were there. The dancing, the grin, the collar… the dancing… by himself. Nobody wants to be that guy. But once I started talking to him, it all changed. Everything was immediately cool. He was German! He had a thick accent and was clearly still struggling with the English language. Suddenly, it didn’t seem weird at all. Drunk All-American boy dancing like that = totally weird. European = Awesome! So, I danced it up until my friends were ready to leave. I gave my new German friend my number and my three friends and I left to go kidnap Mike Tyson’s tiger and pull our own teeth out. I hadn’t heard from my new German friend until today. He sent me a text “Hi, pretty girl…” with his email address to get in touch. Of course I had to email back and called him out for calling me “pretty girl” b/c he couldn’t remember my name. What I received in response was quite possibly the coolest email I have ever received. Enjoy!

Hi …,

no I doesn’t forget your name. But As I push the send button I think about you’ll say I do…

Very nice to stay in contact with you! I feel like Win in a lottery!

Hope we stand in contact and prob we telephone one day.

Do you have Skype? My Name is …..

Do you have Facebook? My Name is …

So hope to hear soon from you!

Love
…

It turns out poor sentence structure + attempted flirtation = completely adorable! Who knew?

Next time, try rock-paper-scissors

Flashback sequence: A few weeks ago…

I’m at a bar in Dupont Circle on the dance floor.  I have had just enough alcohol to know that my white girl dance is fearless and irresistible.  When the band ends their first set, the crowd disperses and I chat with a couple of cuties as we walk off the dance floor.  They decide to leave early so I exchange phone numbers with one of them and go back to celebrating my caucasian roots when the band starts up again. 

The next day the guy sends a text message and our relationship eventually advances to facebook friends and we spend some time on gchat getting to know each other.  (on a side note, how great is facebook?  I now know how old he is, where he works, where he went to school, his political leanings and his religious beliefs.  This will make it much easier to control my reaction when he explains his political views in person.  Thank you, facebook!)  In the following weeks we have a few gchat conversations, but nothing in-depth.  He seems to have settled into a role as facebook friend and a green dot on my gchat list.  Which is a shame, really.  He is too attractive to be reduced to a green dot. 

Fast forward to this week:

Monday night, I go out with a single friend and we share ridiculous stories and laugh at ourselves until we finally agree to start this blog.  I get home, throw on my pj’s, check my email when suddenly my gchat window pops up randomly.

10:44 PM

cutie from the bar: truth or dare

startled me in my silky pjs: dare

him: i dare u to come visit

me: …when does this game end?

him: don’t wanna play n e more?

 

Really?  Truth or dare – now you have to come over?  Are we going to play Spin the Bottle later?  If I don’t show up, do I get punched in the arm and called a welcher?  In hindsight, I should have replied with, “Okay your turn, truth: Did you really expect that to work?”  I’m guessing he didn’t, but decided to take a shot in the dark.  But I never got around to asking his intentions.  Instead I called the friend I had just been out with and said, “Yeah, we should start the blog.  This stuff writes itself.”