But he’s SO cute.

I love HIMYM because it’s real and I can always relate it to my life. There’s an episode in which Barney describes the hot-crazy scale. A woman can be crazy, as long as she is equally hot. The first time I saw the episode, I wondered where I fell on the scale (I can admit I’m a little quirky), but now I realize it’s not just for chicks.

Last week, I signed up for Plenty of Fish (I know you see where this is going…this is obviously where all the crazies hang out). I was immediately over- and underwhelmed all at the same time, but I decided to actually give it a shot – a week – before bailing. Countless “hey” messages, too many emails from the westside and an unfortunate number of messages from younger guys filled up my inbox. Being on that site, the options are endless, so why would I waste time with a too-young guy who can’t write a decent message and lives an hour away? Delete, delete, delete.

I did manage to find a few decent guys, including one we’ll call Matt. Matt is mid-30s, a fit 6’3″ and if everyone supposedly looks like a celeb, he looks like Matt Damon (thus his super creative fake name). He works as a firefighter, but has a graduate degree and wrote a thoughtful first message. He seemed top-shelf for the site and I actually considered he was fake until he started bugging me to hang out. Not asking – bugging.

It came off as truly whiny and he was bugging me about it without actually asking me out for a specific day or time or activity – you know…like how NORMAL people make plans! I wanted to meet him, but I wasn’t going to cancel existing plans to do so and I wasn’t going to just stop by his work as he suggested because I’m not in high school. He told me I didn’t seem interested in meeting or learning about him. Womp, womp, womp.

Were we having out first fight?! Before we even met?!

So I had to have a CTJ with him about how dating works. He admittedly was a relationship guy and didn’t like dating. Ahem, because he’s BAD at it. Now, obviously I’m not the authority on the subject, but I know what works for me and generally I’ve found it vibes with most men as well. If there’s a spark, the guidelines all go out the window anyway and it just feels right and you don’t worry about it. It was not vibing with Matt.

He calmed down a bit, but still kept pushing, even on Saturday morning when we were meeting at 11. He sent me a text at 9:15 to ask if I could do earlier. Keep in mind, we had connected online I think on Wednesday and exchanged numbers on Thursday.

I told him I was starting a yoga class that got over at 10:45 and that’s when I’d be at the Starbucks across the street to meet him. So, yeah, that’s how excited I was about meeting this guy – I slid him in after a yoga class when I’d be sweaty and maybe a little stinky at the coffee shop I’d probably stop at on my way home anyway. He took note, but I don’t think he was all that offended.

Matt walked in a minute or so after me and looked just like his pictures – super cute, tall, solidly built. We got coffee, we grabbed a table outside, we had a conversation. Actually for about an hour and a half.

It was a normal date, but besides his super-quiet talking, something else was just a little off. Some of his conversation topics (past relationships), his future planning (I think he may have asked me to go with him to Oregon to his mom’s for Christmas?)…they just weren’t working. He was definitely trying to qualify me for this girlfriend position he apparently has open and I think he tried to have a CTJ with me about how I need to step it up and show interest.

I think I was distracted at the time – his eyes were beautiful, he had spectacular teeth and his shirt was just the right amount of tight – but I left feeling neither good nor bad about it. He bugged me to see each other again, but again without actually attempting to make plans. I again offered two days, he picked one.

On Tuesday, I realized we had talked over the weekend, but not on Monday and about that time got a “good morning, hope you have a good day” text from Matt. I responded with a “Thanks! You too!” And got an “okay, stranger.”

That was when I had to pull the trigger. I actually thought back and forth for a while, “he’s so cute…but he’s so weird…but he’s so cute, maybe he’s just awkward at first.” Ultimately I couldn’t get past it. I texted back to let him know while I appreciate his physical beauty and that we have things in common, we should skip Thursday because it wasn’t going to work out. He texted: “Agreed.”

Done and done.

I understand where he was coming from with his whining (although I obviously did not agree with his delivery)…he wanted to gauge chemistry and meet up and have me show interest, but you can’t force any of that and I really feel like he was trying to because we have similar interests and live somewhat close together and I think he liked my work schedule. Convenience does not a relationship make. And apparently neither does a guy just being really pretty to look at. It might have developed, but he didn’t give it any room to breathe, which is pretty much a flashing red flag that it is not going to work! He apparently saw it too, so why was he pushing it?!

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Not MY Baby

So, yesterday I called my date the “baby manager” from an old job. When we worked together, he was 19 and looked even younger. We worked in different departments and our only real interaction was once I had an unhappy guest who wanted to talk to a manager and I grabbed BM (he was an assistant front office manager) to appease this guest.  He was slightly less than appeased, though. He looked at this kid, looked at his name tag, which did say manager, and kinda laughed out a, “YOU’RE a manager?”

From there, we connected on Facebook and for some reason, over the summer, he started messaging me, which turned to texting, which turned to him deciding we needed to hang out, which turned to him declaring his intentions further by calling it a date. Persistent? Yes. Surprisingly confident for a younger guy? Yes. I think it was the surprising confidence that wore me down and had me agree.

He’s a ripe 22 now BTW. Six years younger than me. Me being six years younger than Yogi, but damn it feels strange to be on the other side. My aversion to younger men is typically the maturity factor, but I actually did forget at times that he was so young, but then again, who can’t act mature for two hours?!

Anyway, I’m jumping ahead of myself. I gave him two options for the date. Option 1 – he could join me for yoga and then we could hit happy hour sushi or option 2 – I could go to yoga, go home and clean up like an adult and meet him for dinner-time sushi. This yoga thing might actually be turning into a thing and I’m not sure if it’s a test (BM had also never done yoga) or more about me being stubborn and wanting to go to yoga and being like, “this is what I’m doing, you can come or we can NOT hang out.” Reason #76 why I’m single.

I liked option 1 because then I could go in sweaty gym clothes, so it would be less like a date and then it would be over earlier so I could still make my 9:30 bed time. Reasons #77 and 78 why I’m single and reason #34 why I’m an OLD lady. Fortunately, he liked option 1 too.

Or unfortunately, because two minutes in (to the date, not even into the yoga class), THIS happened:

Me: Here’s my gym card and I have a guest today. [Gestures at BM]
Check-in Lady: Is he your son?

Super awkward. We laughed, I hope she felt like the blind, evil lady she is and we went off to yoga class with a, “let’s go, Mom,” from him.

He actually did well in the class and said he enjoyed it and then we went to sushi in our sweaty non-date date clothes. He called me Mom a couple more times. We had big sake bombs (too big for me). I felt like a bad date a few times because I was not being the best conversationalist, but it wasn’t as terribly awkward as I was expecting – he let his I’m-a-cool-guy-22-year-old guard down a bit and mentioned a few other things we should do together in the future – so I guess he wasn’t too put off by my off-putting behavior.

So, it’s a question mark. I went in not thinking it would be anything fantastic and romantic and it wasn’t, but it wasn’t awful. Which is not a very sparkling review.

Either way, I definitely earned this square on my BINGO card.

No Name Update: He still can’t let it go! He sent me a text today asking if I was seeing someone because apparently that’s the ONLY reason a woman wouldn’t be tripping over her own feet to be with him. I said no, I just don’t mind being alone and he said he was surprised I wouldn’t give it a chance and I said I had, but it no longer deserves a chance just because there was nothing going on. To which he said, “okay…your call.” IS it?! Because he doesn’t seem to be okay with giving up that control and going along with what I’m saying.

 

An East Coaster?

So, I think I got another bingo square. Think. I had lunch with a man from Virginia. I paid for my lunch and I would call him more of a Southerner than an East Coaster, but it’s been a long, hot, hard summer so I’m going to let me have my date with an East Coaster square. Gosh, thanks, me. You’re welcome, me…go ahead and take Friday off of work too, you deserve it.

I met this guy online a year and a half ago almost and through a series of random social media interactions, we started chatting again. He asked me how things went with the PoF guy, so THAT’s how long ago it was…the last PoF guy I was “breaking up” with others for was Non-Mush.  Anyway, he invited me to CrossFit (seriously those people are NUTS) and suggested we meet for lunch beforehand so we actually know each other – so not necessarily a romantic context, but I imagined it to be a no-pressure meeting that could have led to more if the following weren’t true:

If a man only smiles in pictures with his mouth closed, women need to take notice of this like men take notice of a woman who only posts pictures of herself from the chest up. She’s fat and he has bad teeth.

Besides the teeth thing I totally just filled in all the wrong blanks in pictures I saw of this guy. So much so that all I could think about during the meal was how I’ve never actually met someone who consistently photographs better than they look in person and I went back and looked at the pictures to make sure I was even thinking of the same guy. Again, I take blame because I filled in the blanks wrong AND I realize this makes me sound horribly superficial, but I’m not afraid to admit that looks are important and that guys aren’t the only ones who can stamp a big NO on someone in just a few minutes.

Talking about money in any context on a first date is awful. Bragging about how much something cost or how much you make or complaining about how much something cost or how little you make are equally awful. If he had been a MAYBE, the conversation would have made him a NO. 37 and cheap cheap cheap is not a good combination.

This is really the first time I’ve looked at the bingo card all summer, but I’m inspired. I know to meet men I have to get out and put out. A good, positive, available air that is, haha. Summer ends for me in October. I’ll see what kind of work I can get done!

The Matchmaker Date

I can’t even try to pretend to understand my relationship with Lucky, so I don’t expect you to.  We’re all over the place.  Scratch that, he’s all over the place and it’s making me become increasingly all over the place as well.

So, when my matchmaker called me (after something like two months), I felt okay telling her to give my number to two of her clients who she felt were good matches. They both called, one talked WAY too much and didn’t close the deal and the other had a better concept of a first phone call and set up a lunch date for after I got back from a business trip.

I wasn’t feeling it when the day came around (in the moment, I call it nerves, after the fact, I call it intuition) and as the first to arrive, I was closely watching the time, ready to invoke the five-minute rule, but he showed up and stared at me.  That really kind of sums it up.

Since it was a set up, I really had no clue what he looked like, but he walked in and kinda stared and I was like, “are you Creepy McCreeperson?” and there was an awkward moment where I was trying to figure out if he was, in fact, my date.  I think my description of my curly hair was a giveaway for him, so he was sure, but trying to find a 5’10” (yeah right) blond guy was not as easy.

So, CMC and I sat down and he stared some more. We did have a few things in common, but now maybe I realize I come off as a workout freak because that’s kinda how he came off?

Anyway, Ms. Matchmaker, it’s not about both being single, even both looking for someone in a matching age range or both liking to work out, she totally overlooked chemistry, of which we had none.  While he was staring, I felt the need to fill in silences with stupid stuff.  Then he talked about religion, then thankfully, the bill arrived and I got to leave.

I gave the matchmaker my feedback, that there was no real attraction and he was kind of intense and it made me uncomfortable and I got his feedback.  He also didn’t feel like it was a match and thought I was quiet and “new to dating.”  I was kinda offended, but he’s a creeper, so whatever.

So, I fell off in my communication with the matchmaker.  I was supposed to email her my new phone number and I never did, which I’m sure gives her the impression I’m a little flaky, she already knows I’m shy and now thinks I’m “new to dating,” so this might be the end of our not-so-beautiful friendship.

June was a busy month for me and dating wasn’t really a priority, especially when I wasn’t all that impressed with her skills or with the second guy I was potentially going to go out with.  But, either way, one more dating story in the books and one square checked off my bingo card!

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

This weekend I committed a cardinal sin of friendship. I set up my girlfriend on the basis of both parties being single.

I know. It’s terrible. It’s happened to me and it was terrible then and I still did the same thing and it was – spoiler alert – terrible(ish).

I met Lucky’s friend, Marmaduke (nice guy, but just kinda reminds me of a big, goofy dog), about a week after meeting Lucky and have seen him a few times since.  Marmaduke was on Match as well. Marmaduke probably would have turned up in my search eventually if Lucky hadn’t snatched me up first and thank goodness he did…not because Marmaduke is awful, but because I’m totally gone for Lucky at this point and feel the need to sneak in reference to that as often as I can.  Feel free to grab a vom bag. 

Being that Marmaduke is on Match, he’s obviously looking. He’s got an ex-girlfriend story, he’s got a rebound girl story, but he’s looking for what’s next. He assumes Lucky’s great catch knows some other pretty great catches and has been bugging me and Lucky to meet some of my friends for a while.

The thing is, I do know some great catches, but a lot of them are taken because they’re so great (and because we’re getting old and that’s what happens when you’re old), but my mind went quickly to a girl I’ve clicked with in the past few months at Meetup events so when Marmaduke asked again last weekend, I set up a little double with the henceforth called Sally.

Sally also has an ex-boyfriend story and we’ve spent a lot of time commiserating about the dating scene.  She’s said she’s content being single, but was open to the experience of going out with a new guy.

It really wasn’t one of those oh my gosh, you have to meet so-and-so because you have so much in common things.  I wouldn’t have even connected the dots if he didn’t specifically ask to meet a girlfriend of mine, but he did so Lucky showed Marm Sally’s Facebook and I showed Sally Marm’s Match profile (because he doesn’t have a Facebook, oh my gosh what is wrong with this guy?) and all systems were still go and we set up a casual drinks and apps date on Saturday night.

I personally would have been shy and uncomfortable in the situation, but Sally jumped right in and seemed to get along great with both Lucky and Marmaduke.  We found out that Sally and Marmaduke did in fact have some things in common and they seemed relatively interested, or at least like they were having a good time. 

The quick debriefs while one of them or the other went to the restroom were not overwhelming, but favorable, so I was a little surprised when he didn’t close the deal at the end of the night (as in phone number, nothing more, pervs). 

The next day, the boys went out golfing and I got this text from Lucky:  Marmaduke is not into Sally at all.

Hmm.  I found out later it wasn’t anything in particular, okay maybe the excessive amount she had to drink, but mostly no real click and that’s fine.  I don’t feel too bad about the set up because I kind of let them both know it was more about their single status and getting out and having fun than about actually believing they would match well.

I haven’t heard from Sally and have no clue how she felt about the evening once she had time to process it.  I feel a little guilty for not following up with her, but I got such immediate feedback from Marm that asking her if she liked him seemed irrelevant. 

“Oh, you liked him?  Too bad because he was not into you.  At all.”

I thought the at all was a little harsh.

So, while I’d love to embrace my inner Patti Stanger, I’m only doing it from now on if I actually see a potential connection between two people.  Until then, I’m hoping this failure holds off Marmaduke for a bit if not for good.  If he’s still chomping at the bit, my new plan is to do a group introduction with way less pressure so he can pick his own!

Frog #3

Not bachelor…full on frog.

It started with a phone call.  Well, an online profile, a message, but then a phone call.  He talked at me for eight minutes. 

We were in the same area of town last night and tried to meet up anyway.  Within two minutes I was over it. 

This was my first chance to be rude.  Make an exit with the friend I was with instead of letting him go on his merry way and leave me with the frog.

I didn’t.

The frog and his fly breath hopped into my personal space.

He hated the bar I was at, which wasn’t all that bad, so suggested we go somewhere else after he swigged his vodka tonic.

We went to another place where he told the waitress we wanted waters.  He talked at me some more. 

He did ask questions.  This is what he wanted to talk about:

1.  Is my hair naturally curly?
2.  Am I German?
3.  Am I an Arizona native?
4.  Did I go to ASU?

The funny thing is, the answers to those questions – yes, yes, technically no, no – were the same EVERY time he asked me.  First he blamed the repeated questions on the drinks he had before we met up, then he tried to say he was just playing with me.

He talked about astrology.  An awkward amount.

He got up to go to the bathroom.

This is where I should have been rude again.

Is it weird that a life goal of mine is to walk out on a bad date?  Perhaps not, because even given the perfect opportunity for it, I still couldn’t.

I waited.  He came back with a beer.  A beer.

I didn’t want to drink anymore anyway, I wanted to get out of there, but still.

He gave me a very condescending look when I said I hadn’t heard of his favorite short story authors. 

Toward the end of the too-long night, he told me I was uptight.  He said he was big on conversation and I wasn’t very good at it because I wasn’t asking him very many questions.    But, he slipped them all in like what he was saying wasn’ t actually kind of rude.

I usually would offer a “well, I’m shy and it takes me a while to open up” as an excuse, but really that wasn’t it. 

I had an early morning today, so I imposed a curfew and took off as soon as I could.  Okay, not true.  I took off as soon as my mother’s leftover etiquette lessons would allow. 

Surprisingly he walked me to my car.  Without breaking pace, I let him talk at me about a concert on Sunday, which was really the genesis of this communication and meeting, which is so not happening now and dinner next week and anything else he wanted.  I just knew my car was getting closer with every step and I was so thrilled by this fact.

With his digs at me, he really didn’t seem all that interested either, but asked for a hug.

He said he was cabbing it home (all of a few blocks) so I called him lazy and he said it came with his job.  He’s a stock broker.  He’s “lazy and rich” he yelled at me as I closed my car door. 

Sorry dude, you didn’t sell it all night, you’re not selling it now.  Go find a girl whose requirements revolve around your supposed money.  I’m a woman who knows that ain’t not worth it.

Bachelor #2

So, Thursday was #1, I went out with someone on Friday, but was unsure of if he counted or not because I’d been out with him before, so although tonight’s was third in three days (ugh), we’re going to call him #2. 

eHarmony.  Cute, fun, flirty, moved at a good pace for setting up the first meeting.  I was really looking forward to this date. 

We settled on Mexican, but he surprised me with the suggestion of a really nice Latin restaurant.  And also with the offer to pick me up, which of course I declined.

Without having too much in common, we had plenty to talk about and I felt at ease right away.  Actually, before right away.  He invited me to come over and walk his dog with him the night before and I thought that would be totally fine, but I decided to wait until an actual first date. 

So tonight we went out and he kept me laughing (although I’m beginning to think I just pretty much laugh at anything).

As a believer in short, one-phase first dates, I had the feeling I could keep hanging out with him, so we did.  We heard live country music coming from a total dive and had to go in.  Turns out we do have a bit in common.  We both like country music, whiskey and people watching/judging. 

Then it was actually time to call it a night, as my usual plan is to keep them wanting more.

There was a kiss.  It was slightly awkward, but I don’t think I’ve had a first date kiss in quite a while.

So, why is he a frog?

He told me he got there early to get his name in for a table and was at the bar.  It was kind of crowded, but he was looking for me around the time I was supposed to arrive, so when I walked in, he saw me from the bar and gave me an awkward rocker hand signal. 

I always hate trying to pick out my online date in a restaurant.  I think I look a lot like my pictures and have the tell-tale curly hair to set me apart, but you never know about the guys you’re meeting.  Either way, the rocker signal was weird.

According to eH, we’re the same age.  At this point, I’m four months from my birthday, so it’s more miss than hit for finding someone my “age” but older.  I asked his astrological sign and sure enough, he’s younger (seven months). 

Also, I was approximately his height in my heels and I wasn’t a fan of his shirt.  Reaching?  Maybe.  Seeing frog/bachelor #2 again?  Yeah, sure.

Enjoy the Ride

Yesterday, I felt like this:

Not just about this:

 

But about this too:

Honestly, I did a little of this at work:

That’s not actual crying, that’s just tearing up.  So, I self-medicated:

After work I had to go here:

(The chiropractor, not a masseuse.)  While there, I got this:

From a new girlfriend asking me to hang out this weekend.  Out of my comfort zone, but I said yes.  That helped a little, but I was still feeling sad, so I wanted to go home and do this:

Brie…yum!  And this:

That would be actual crying.  Instead, I did this:

And went on yet another one of these:

There was a little of this:

And A LOT of this:

And this:

Sometimes you just have to:

And:

Dating Hat Trick

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.

Good Luck

I went on a lunch date with a man who claimed to be the real-life Good Luck Chuck on Saturday.

Good Luck Chuck

Image by Roscoe Van Damme (In Memory of Maureen) via Flickr

Although his version is a little less romantic.  According to him (GLJ), the women he’s dated quasi-seriously – about 5 or 6 – either got engaged or knocked up by the man they dated right after him. 

He says he tends to attract insecure women and attributes the “Good Luck” phenomenon less to anything he actually does and more to their neediness.  When they broke up, they moved on and clung to somebody else and it happened to work out that time.

Sounds like a dick thing to say, but I can see it because he did seem very nurturing and caring, like he would be very reassuring and dedicated in a relationship, which is perfect for women who need a lot of that. 

He’s 34 and the kind of guy who has a lot of female friends who all think he’s a great catch but don’t want to date him.  I may or may not be joining that group.  Mostly, he might be a little too nice for his own good.  I don’t want the jackasses anymore, but I need a guy with a little edge to him. 

So he gave me that option.  Sign on for a few months with him, then move on to a slightly edgier Mr. Right shortly thereafter.  Kind of sad, but an intriguing offer that deserves some consideration.

The thing is, I have a huge crush on one of his friends.  Like a he could ask me to marry him and I would drive to Vegas and make it happen kind of crush.  And should this guidepost friend of his ever be single again, I wouldn’t want to be out of the running because of some lame bro code.  So my final answer is that I can’t date GLJ.  Yep, definitely not worth it.

GLJ and I did find out we have a lot of the same views on dating…fate, keeping it real, going for what you deserve, the whole shebang.  After the date he tweeted – he’s HUGE into social media, I knew there would be something – well, technically REtweeted a quote about meeting someone who makes you realize why it never worked out with anyone else before.  I’m sure, based on our convo, it just spoke to him, but yeah, it was a little weird.