I recently decided it wouldn’t depress me to count all the men I’ve been out with in 2011. I thought it would be kind of humorous because it feels like a lot and I decided I would be able to ignore the little voice that would say, I’ve been on X number of dates and still haven’t found someone. What is the common thread here and what must be wrong with that common thread (me)?
By X, I mean nine. As in seven first dates + two men I had seen before the new year. I actually don’t find that depressing. It WOULD be depressing if I went with Bachelor #1 just for the sake of having a man.
In an effort of full disclosure, I went on 18 dates with those nine men, because some were interesting/cute/nice enough to allow for repeat performances. I keep impeccable records BTW. So, since we are in the ninth week of the new year, that means an average of two dates a week, which sounds about right.
However, this week, I really upped the ante and went on three dates in 24 hours. Now THAT is slightly depressing. And a lot more work and less fun than it sounds like it might be. I’m burning out and am so looking forward to the family and friend activities I have planned this weekend, which have allowed me to say NO to dates.
How exactly DOES a girl go on three dates in 24 hours, you ask?
Tuesday, 7pm, dinner with Old Blue Eyes – We met on Match and I have been out with him a handful of times with a variety of outcomes. On this date, he started discussing conspiracy theories (loudly and people at the bar were staring and wondering why such a gorgeous girl was with a guy who apparently believes that America was involved in 9/11 and that the government is hiding cures for cancer and AIDS). He conveniently went to the bathroom right around the time we should have been asking for the check – a trick he pulled before too – although, admittedly, he had paid on the last couple and it was my turn again. Despite all that, we made out in the parking lot a bit, but I finally admitted that he kisses like 12-year-old MJ’s boyfriend (something I had discovered on our third date and apparently thought was going to change). Seriously, how to you get to 27 and still suck that bad?!
Wednesday, 1pm, lunch with Napoleon – After coffee on Monday night, this shorty sent me
cheesy lovely text messages about how he couldn’t wait until the weekend to see my eyes and smile again and wanted to get me out of the office and take me to lunch. What was so easy on Monday seemed to be more of a performance this time around. Self-importance = turn off. The mishmash of tattoos he has and proceeded to tell me about = most likely a turn off. On the plus side, I was wearing heels and still shorter (barely) than him, so maybe he’s a bit taller than I gave him credit for initially.
Wednesday, 5pm, sushi happy hour with Ace – Ace is [a golfer and] my last Match match I talked to before I cancelled my account and this was our first date. Rounding out my hat trick, this was the best date of the three. At times, the convo dragged and it felt like an interview, but then we got on a topic that we could talk about, which is I guess how dating goes. We had a good amount in common and after a while, I forgot that he was (gasp!) younger than me. And then there was an awkward hug at the end.
And that, my friends, is how you go on three dates in 24 hours, get completely sick of talking about yourself, decide dating for the sake of dating [or because you’re epically bad at “breaking up” with someone when it’s only been a few dates] is overrated.
The experience has made me vow to:
- spread out the dates and schedule more time with myself because that’s how I recharge.
- not waste more than one date on a bad prospect (or however many it takes to realize he is, in fact, a bad prospect).
- revert to short meet-and-greets for first dates.
- not drink on dates if I don’t want to (although, I only drank with Ace, perhaps I would have enjoyed Bachelor #1 and Bachelor #2 more if I had had cocktails on those as well).
- stop overthinking the whole dating thing anyway. I keep wondering how many dates is enough and what deserves another chance v. what gets a definitive “thanks, but no thanks.” I need to trust myself and that I’ll know when I know.