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Dating Flashbacks ________________________________________________________________

When I lived in LA, I went on a dating rampage. I dated anything with a pulse... and I met most of my dates online. Cliche, I know. But it was so hard to meet people in LA, I figured the internet route was my best bet. Well, I was wrong. After going on close to 50 dates in the span of a year and a half, I was burned out.

One of my last dates was with a guy (who I'll name C) who ended up having a girlfriend when he met me... and never told me. He was such a cool guy, though, that I ended up being good friends with him. At the time, it was hard to swallow... so I wrote about it. Here's what I wrote:

The Wrong Guy

He has a thing for sluts. His own inability to express himself sexually in a healthy way attracts him to women that are overtly sexual and open. It makes him feel like less of a sexual deviant, more of an innocent bystander, taken advantage of by a dominating whore. So what do I do? He's got a girlfriend with braces who looks like a 14 year old who has smoked a few too many packs in her day. He says he loves her. I don't believe him.

He recently posted a picture of her on his personal website. And when I say picture, I don't mean "smile for the camera"... unless he was speaking to her vagina, that is. It's a suggestive picture. Disproportionate hips and legs. Skin that I don't want to see. Hell, I've already unwillingly seen this girl's tits (he posted them earlier on his site--I've seen better) what more is there?

I don't want him, I don't. I think what I hate is that he might have wanted me at sometime, although very very briefly. But when was that? I explain...

We talked online a couple of times. On the phone once. He has something in his tone that reminds me of Patrick... Patrick from my freshman year of college. Patrick "Amanda, I am in love with you, so I'm not sure we can do the best friends thing anymore" Patrick. But it's not C's confession of love--hardly that--that reminds me of Patrick. It's his nerdy exterior, veiling an emotionally deep mind. The kind of mind that could drive someone either crazy in a good way or crazy in a bad way. I want the former. I want someone to fall. Fall hard like Patrick, who couldn't bear to be around me if he couldn't have me.

So we meet. I'm nervous, which is strange, because I should be an old pro at this, right?

I walk to his front door as he walks out. Just as I thought, nerdy exterior. We awkwardly shake. I bubble and do the normal "Do I look like I do in my pictures?" routine. Then he says the words that should have clued me in, raised the red flag, but they don't.

"So, my brother and his girlfriend are here, and they're going to go out with us too. Is that cool?" He's sweet, so I'm trying to swallow the saliva I was forming in anticipation of jumping his nerdy Screech bones.

"Um, oh yeah, no problem." I sound too agreeable. Desperate? God, I hope he doesn't think that I came here hoping to leave with a good inclination of our wedding date and the name of our first born child. But what I am supposed to think? I met this guy on a dating site for Christ's sake. But I am so horribly mistaken, and this is where it all takes a nosedive.

We go to a good old chain restaurant. Always reliable. The talk is a bit stifled, and we all order wine and the same dish. I sit uncomfortably, staring out at Sunset Blvd., as his brother, F, coos baby talk to his girlfriend, E. I want to throw up my over-priced pizza. Preferably on them both. So you think that this would be the perfect opportunity for me to lean toward C and say "So..." Needless to say, I don't. Probably because C has already decided to engage in conversation with E, who is tickling F's nose with her tongue.

"So, that thing... wasn't that great?" He doesn't even look at me. He's too focused on E and her response. So I try to engage myself more... I lean in interestedly. "So, um, how did you two meet?"

E is ecstatic to answer. She's cute in that "When I'm forty, I'll still look like a 15 year-old" way.

"Match dot-com! It was great!"

I almost choke on my wine. I'm sorry I asked. As if things couldn't have gotten any more uncomfortable. I can just see the picture in her mind--a lavish double wedding. With C and F standing side-by-side while Punky Brewster and I saddle down the aisle. Me towering two feet over her, she baby-talking under her breath. She turns to me and smiles. "We owe this ALL to Match dot-com!" Vomit ensues.

"Wow, that's so great! I've had a few bad experiences on Match."

Sorrowful glances all around. And I think this is the point where I realized that this date was going nowhere near where I wanted it to go. If I had it my way, C and I would be on our way to a quiet bar, getting to know each other without the supervision of America's Cutest Couple.

I decide things can't get any worse. What with C totally abandoning any conversation towards me, and E excitedly telling me about her and F's first date and blah blah blah. So I start doing my "Oh my God, I'm so entertaining and the life of the party, listen to all my funny stories" thing. If only all my stories weren't so self-deprecating.

I must have come across as the token always-single-funny-girl. You know, the girl who has given up on all men, so she stays home on Friday nights, honing her skills of man-bashing and throws out her random pathetic stories at get-togethers. People love her! They migrate towards her at parties, reveling in her charm and humor while trying to ignore the bitter undertones of her bad date horror stories. They love her, but they would never want to be her. And that's what makes her lonely... forever.

They think I'm funny. It's working. But secretly, I'm kind of hoping that C will chime in on one of the stories with a "I would never treat you that way!" or a "The next time we go out, I'll prove you wrong about dating." But nope. Just pity laughs, with a slight tinge of "ooh, glad that wasn't me" thrown in.

I wish I would have known what I know now. The fact that he had a girlfriend and still asked me out on a "date"... I feel as if it was a shitty prank set up by Ashton Kutcher. I feel like a fool, and like I've wasted my time.

Why is that the unattainable is always within my reach, while the nice, normal available guys drift by?

posted by amandalicious at 7:55 PM >4 comments

4 Comments:

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