Date Stories

A Trip Down Memory Lane

2012-01-11T23:01:00.001-06:00

Through some random google searching on a random topic I stumbled across an interesting blog that I felt compelled to comment on. Then I remembered that I already had a user name and password from my old "Date Stories" blog. I tried a few different passwords and sure enough... I'm signed back into the blogosphere!

I decided to check out my abandoned "Date Stories" blog, and I am overwhelmed with nostalgia! So much has happened in my life since 2005. I had completely forgotten many of these stories/dates. I'm still struggling to remember "who" some of those guys were (I had given them aliases).

I'm contemplating writing some update posts... because I have some pretty hilarious (or awkward) follow up stories about running into some of these horrible dates years later.

Stay tuned.

A Life Of Its Own

2005-11-29T11:21:00.000-06:00

Some of you may have wondered what happened to me. I'm still here... I just needed to take a break from the blog. It isn't that 'nothing' has been happening in my dating life. There is still plenty of drama on a weekly basis (and I promise that eventually I will catch you up).

My reasons for taking a break from my blog are two-fold. 1. On a professional level, I have been searching for a new job and it has consumed much of my spare time. 2. On a personal level, I felt like my blog had taken on a life of its own. I didn't want the blog (or my established rules for writing about my dates) to dictate my dating life.

I'm going to slowly ease back into this... wish me luck!

End of the week...

2005-10-25T11:50:00.000-05:00

I know you're all wondering whether I dropped off the face of the earth... I have.

I have been extremely busy, but I haven't forgotten about my blog. I will have multiple posts for you all by the end of the weekend!

I promise!

Cougar Bait

2005-10-12T22:23:00.000-05:00

I got a call last Thursday night from my old roommate Ewan.

“Jane, meet me at Axel’s Bonfire on Grand. I miss you babe… let’s hang out.”

I had worked all day at my full time job and just finished a shift at my part time job. I was worn out and still needed to pack for my road trip to Chicago. (I was leaving right after work the next day.) I wasn’t looking my best and didn’t feel like taking the time to fix myself up.

“Mmmmm, I don’t know, I look like poo.” I hemmed and hawed.

“Awe, come on babe, you always look great.”

I loved it when Ewan lied to me. (We lived together for seven months. He knew flattery would get him everywhere.)

“Well… okay, but you’re buying. I’ll see you in 20 minutes.”

When I arrived at Bonfire, I was delighted to discover that the entertainment for the evening was not the dueling pianos, but instead… it was Karaoke! (I love Karaoke!)

We sat at the bar next to two guys and a girl. (It ends up, that they too were all roommates in some form or fashion.) They shared their songbook with us and we struck up a conversation. (I love meeting strangers at bars.) Between Ewan and I and our new friends (Chris, Jeff and Jennie), we were pretty much the only people singing.

I started things off with my favorite Tracy Chapman song, “Give Me One Reason.” Then Ewan followed with a Dooby Brother’s song that I didn’t really know. I was involved in an intense conversation about politics with Jeff so I didn’t notice that Ewan hadn’t come back from singing his song. In fact, ten minutes had gone by before Ewan reappeared. He tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear.

“Hey Jane, check out the Cougars in the booth over there. They’re seducing me!” Ewan let out his funny little giggle.

I turned around and my eyes got big, “What are you talking about?”

“Those old hot ladies pulled me into their booth after I got off the stage. They told me that they thought I did a great job and wanted to buy me a drink.”

I looked over in the direction that he pointed, “Ewan, those aren’t Cougars… those girls are my age!”

“No no Janie.” He turned my barstool a few inches to the right. “It’s those ladies right there.”

A smile formed across my face. Yep, those were definitely Cougars. The makeup, the clothes, the breasts, the ultra blonde hair and the crow’s feet all fit the profile. They stealthily blended in with this twenty something crowd, but closer examination revealed them to be the oldest women in the bar. (Not a day under 45.)

These women were on the prowl and Ewan was their defenseless prey. Well, not completely defenseless. Ewan had read my post about Cougars a few weeks earlier and he was on to their game.

“Okay Jane, I’m heading back over to the Cougar den. Wish me luck.” Ewan straightened his sports jacket and turned the collar up on his Ralph Lauren dress shirt. He was prime Cougar bait and he loved it!

But, much to the Cougars' chagrin, Ewan didn’t stick around to be eaten alive. After another hour or so we headed across the street to Billy’s with our new friends (Jeff and Jennie). There were other adventures to be had.

Umbrellas And The Ladies Room

2005-10-05T23:55:00.000-05:00

At least three times a week I pass by a rack of umbrellas for sale. At least once a week the thought crosses through my mind that ‘I need to buy an umbrella,’ just in case I ever get caught in the rain. But, I always shrug the idea off. I never get caught in the rain. (Knock on wood.)

Last night I drove around the one way streets of Uptown looking for Azia, a restaurant that I’ve never been to. I know Hennepin Avenue and the Lake Calhoun area fairly well, but Nicollet and Lyndale are not my fortes.

I was supposed to be meeting my friend Maximilian for drinks. (Mapquest had failed me again.)
It was drizzling outside. I barely needed my windshield wipers. When I arrived at the intersection where Azia is located, I let out a sigh of relief. (I wasn’t even that late!) The bar was right where Maximilian said it would be. And, how lucky can I get? There was a parking spot on the street only one block away!

Then the inevitable happened. There was a flash and with almost no delay... "BOOM!”

In one fantastic smack, the floodgates of heaven opened and the judgment of God poured down onto the streets of Uptown. (Okay, so it was just a really bad thunderstorm.) I could barely park my car. I couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front or behind me. Sheets of rain came down. (Has anyone ever seen a single sheet of rain?)

I sat in my car and thought about the rack filled with umbrellas. (This stinks!) I waited about five minutes for the rain to let up. It didn’t. So I resolved to make a dash for it. How bad could it be? (I was about to find out…)

For safe measure I rolled my jeans up like Capri pants. (It wouldn’t make a difference, the streets were ankle deep.) By the time I made it inside, my hair and face were dripping wet. My mascara was working its way down one of my cheeks. My jeans were sticking to my skin and my favorite pink leather foe-crocodile heels had water pooling in the toes.

It took some alcohol and a large bowl of wanton soup to warm me up. Max and I had a great time chatting. We discussed the elements of dating from my blog (see ‘Definition of Dating’ from last week) and we determined that our meeting did not meet the required elements of a date. Max psychoanalyzed the blog and my alter ego, ‘Jane.’ It’s extremely interesting to hear another person’s take on it!

I excused myself to use the ladies room and headed to the back of the restaurant. I walked through a doorway and the restaurant opened up into a large room in the back with additional seating, a lounge area and a bar. I wandered around for about thirty seconds looking for the bathroom. It was deserted besides a bartender, a man at the bar (talking to the bartender) and a man dressed in a dirty T-shirt walking in my direction and spilling the drink he held in his hand.

Me, being the friendly gal that I am, asked the man in the dirty T-shirt, “Excuse me, do you know where the ladies room is?”

His eyes were bloodshot and his speech was slightly slurred, (“mumble… mumble… mumble”) I’m wasn’t sure what he said, but then he nodded in the opposite direction. Then I think he said, “Over here…”

So, I followed him. He led me directly to an open area with sinks. It was one of those modern / trendy bathrooms where the men and women have separate facilities, but share the same washroom.

The washroom had better lighting than the bar area and I could now clearly see that this man was severely intoxicated. I asked him, “Which one is the ladies room?” (There were two doors but no signs… I hate that!)

Despite his condition, the drunk man walked to the door on the right and opened it for me. (How polite!) He pushed and held it open while I walked in. (At this point, he was standing in the bathroom with me. There weren’t any women inside thank goodness.) I turned and looked at him, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks so much for your help. I think I can take it from here.” He looked at me like he had no idea what I had just said. So I addressed him again, “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom by myself?”

He nodded yes, mumbled something else and walked all the way into women’s bathroom. I didn’t stick around to see which stall he went in to. I just walked out laughing.

I laughed all the way up to the bartender. “I’m sorry, the bathroom on the right is the ladies room right?”

The bartender turned around, “Yeah, the door to the right of the sinks.”

“Um yeah, there’s a drunk guy going to the bathroom in there.”

The bartender rolled his eyes. “I just kicked him out of here.”

He walked over to the facilities and popped his head in the door. “Are you almost finished? Did you know that you’re in the women’s bathroom?” (I don’t know why he asked, it was clear he didn’t have a clue.)

I stood there while the bartender tried unsuccessfully to coax him out. I was getting a little impatient, “Hey listen, I really have to pee. Can you please watch the door to the men’s room, I’m just going to use their bathroom.”

The bartender seemed a little freaked out that I suggested it. But another woman had arrived on the scene and I talked her into it. He didn’t have a say in the matter. She watched the door for me. (What a doll.)

After I had finished my business, I washed my hands and looked into the mirror. My hair was lumpy and damp and my runny mascara had given me raccoon eyes.

My thoughts went back to the rain and then to the umbrella rack… I really need to buy an umbrella!

An HBO Production

2005-10-05T23:48:00.000-05:00

I’m moving on. I know ‘he’s just not that in to me.’ I’m ready and able to let it all go, and then right when I’m about to let the last pieces of whatever we had slip from my fingers… he calls.

Dutch was right (and I hate admitting that he’s right), if my life were an HBO production, I would be Carrie and ’40 Year Old’ would be Big. Why does he even bother calling? (An email would have been fine.) The conversation ended awkwardly and the knot returned to my stomach. The emotions (that I thought were gone) crept back from whatever cave they had been hibernating in. Life would be so much easier without emotions.

Too Nice

2005-09-30T07:23:00.000-05:00

Dutch and I had breakfast the other morning. He accused me of being “too nice to men.”

“Jane, you need to stop striking up conversations with complete strangers. When we go out and you pay any attention to a man, he thinks you’re hitting on him. You’re giving him mixed signals and he thinks he has a chance. It’s a cruel trick… you need to stop.”

I was floored. “Dutch, that is ridiculous! Men do not think I’m flirting with them, just because I’m friendly and nice!”

He shook his head and finished sipping his coffee. “Yes they do.”

I thought about this for a minute while I drank my chocolate milk. There might be something to what he said. It could explain what happened to me at my part time job earlier this week…

It all started a few weeks ago, during the primary elections for mayor in St. Paul. I had rung up a transaction for a gentleman at the register. As he paid for his items, he vaguely mentioned that he was a vote counter for the City of St. Paul. That sounded interesting to me, and I asked him a little bit about his job and what the final results of the election were. He looked a little burned out, but perked up when I expressed interest in what he did. (I can always find something to talk about with a stranger.) We chatted for a few seconds. Then he kept standing in front of my register trying to remember the exact results, but… he couldn’t. (People were starting to line up behind him.) I needed to hurry him along.

“Thanks so much. Have a great evening, and don’t work too hard!”

He moved towards the door, “I’ll find out those results for you.”

I had moved on to the next customer, looked up, smiled and said, “Great!”

Yeah, it was an insignificant moment in my life. But apparently, it meant a little more to him. Two weeks after the election, I was again working at my part time job when I turned around. I was standing face to face with the same gentleman. (It took me a few seconds to place him.)

“Hi Jane!” He looked down at my nametag. (I’m never sure if customers are looking at my nametag or my breasts. I always assume it’s the nametag, because I have a hard time believing my breasts draw much attention.) “I have those election results for you.”

What is this nut talking about? Oh my gosh! He actually came back to the store to tell me the election results he couldn’t remember two weeks ago!

He seemed so proud as he rambled off statistics of the votes counted. I already knew which candidates won… everyone knew. Why was he telling me this?

“Um, wow that’s great. Was there anything else here in the store that you needed help finding?” I tried so hard to muster up some enthusiasm or to sound genuinely interested in what he had to say, but I was really creeped out. (And, I think he sensed it.) This man had tracked me down two weeks later just to tell me something that meant nothing to me.

He shifted on his feet, “Oh yeah, well I was here at the store for something else. I just saw you and thought you’d like to know. So, yeah… have a good day.”

I tried to remove the freaked out and horrified expression from my face and be polite, but it was difficult. “Um, okay, well thanks.”

He quickly scurried off. The meeting had become uncomfortable for both of us. (Eeeek!)

As I sat in the café with Dutch, I realized that maybe he might be right. However, what am I supposed to do? Change my personality? I can’t help that I’m a perky person. I like talking with people. Why… I don’t know!

I pondered a little longer. It’s definitely my parents’ fault. (I blame them completely.) I inherited the ‘friendly/strike up a conversation with a stranger gene’ from my father and my mother drilled it into my conscious and subconscious that I needed to be kind to ‘boys’ when they make an effort to talk to you. I remember her lecture well:

“Janie, it takes a lot of courage for a young man to talk to a young lady, especially when they like you. You should be polite even if you aren’t interested. Girls can be very cruel when they dismiss a boy. Don’t be like that!”

So, I received one message from my mother and now a conflicting one from Dutch. This is so confusing! Arg! (Dutch also informed me that we had missed “National Talk Like A Pirate Day”. So we proceded to make up for it the rest of the morning…)

Definition of Dating

2005-09-29T21:21:00.000-05:00

There has been some discussion (or debate) among my friends and readers as to whether I am actually dating again. I would like to set the record straight. I am still in my “time off” stage. I realize that Josh distracted me somewhat, but I was only phased for a moment and I did not by definition date him. Nor am I currently dating him. Some of you would argue otherwise, but I’m about to prove you wrong!

According to the 2005 Rules of Dating (Jane Dater Edition), Title 1.Rule 2. Subdivision (a). Definition of Dating. The term ‘Date (verb)’ is defined as: all of the elements included in Subdivision (b).

Subdivision (b). Elements.
i. One person invites a second person to an event or activity;
ii. The person who invited the second person to the event or activity, pays for any costs involved in participating in or attending those events and/or activities; and
iii. The person who invited the second person and the invitee partake in mutual and non-obligatory activities of affection, including, but not limited to kissing.

Based upon the above-mentioned definition, I did not ‘Date’ Josh. I only met one of the three necessary elements. I paid for myself (In fact, I insisted on paying for myself). I never kissed him (Marvan, I know you have a hard time believing that). Therefore, I did not date Josh.

Email Scandal

2005-09-27T07:50:00.000-05:00

Two weeks had passed since Josh, Bob and I went to the movies. My schedule had been insanely busy and between my two jobs (and hanging out with other friends), I was spent.

Last week Tuesday was my first night off in nearly five days. I was in the middle of doing my laundry when Josh called. He didn’t call for any particular reason, just to talk… for two hours.

I stood in the Laundromat folding my clothes as our conversation became more and more flirtatious. By the time we hung up, there was no doubt that he was hitting on me. (Hmmm)

We had exchanged email addresses and the next morning I checked my account and found a blatantly flirtatious message waiting for me. (I am not disclosing the contents of the message at this time, because my mother reads this blog.) I sent a rather flirtatious email back to him and he replied with a scandalous message. Then, I pushed the envelope and sent a legitimately racy email to him. He never responded. (Oh my goodness, I went too far!)

I would find out later that night, when we went to ‘Sweeny’s’ for drinks, why he never responded. He picked me up and it felt awkward in his car. Once we sat down on the patio with a roaring fire in the background we began to open up.

I started, “So Josh, you never replied to my last email.” Every once in a while, I’m overcome with bluntness and just put it all out there.

He laughed and if I didn’t know better, I’d say that he blushed. He scratched his head, and looked down at his glass, “Well Jane, I didn’t dare answer it, because I knew it would take us down a road I can’t go down.”

I played dumb so that he’d come right out and say it, “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean… Uh, you know… because I have a girlfriend and all. We’ve been together for a year.” (Ouch!) There, it was out there. She wasn’t just ‘the girl he was dating’. She really was his girlfriend and has been for a while!

“You see Jane, things have been strained between us ever since I spent the week by the lake shore with her and her family. It’s just really hard being separated…” (Blah blah blah, my A.D.D. took over and I began to zone out.)

I spent the next 30 minutes listening to him go on about his problems with his girlfriend. Then I spent the next 45 minutes counseling him and helping him understand his girlfriend’s perspective and concerns with their long distance relationship. I reassured him that everything was going to be fine and that the only reason their relationship was strained was because they never saw each other. (Why do I have to be so nice?)

“Josh, it’s impossible for long distance relationships to succeed with one exception. If there is a set period of time that you are going to be separated and that set period of time is less than one year, then you can still make it. Otherwise, if the separation is indefinite or too long, then you might as well call it quits. So you see, since your separation is only six months, you and your girlfriend are going to be fine.” (I patted myself on the back.)

By the time we finished our pitcher of Summit Oktoberfest, he felt much better and I felt much worse (even though I did the right thing).

It was getting late and he had to get up early. So we went our separate ways.

I got home and there was a message on my voicemail from ‘Cali-goose’. He had left me an extended lecture about how I need to let this thing with Josh go. “Jane, don’t waste your time. You’re just going to get hurt.” He was right, but I didn’t call him back to tell him that.

I’m no angel. I’ve cheated on a boyfriend in the past, but it was an accident. I forgot I was dating him… twice, and made out with other boys. (It’s just that he was kind of forgettable.)

I’ve also kissed a boy or two that had a girlfriend. But, it all came back to bite me in the bum a few years ago when I was on the receiving end of the cheating. It didn’t feel good.

And so, Josh is off limits.

(On a side note, 40 Year Old sent me a bunch of emails today. Apparently he finally remembered that I existed. I’m embarrassed to say that I was glad to get them. I hate him.)

Background Noise

2005-09-27T07:17:00.000-05:00

Josh called me three times in the next two weeks after our dinner/date. I didn’t return the first phone call. The second phone call I told him that I was busy (which I was… I was scheduled to work at my part time job). The third time, I agreed to go out with him and his roommate Bob (that was safe enough). We went to see “The Wedding Crashers”. It was a great flick.

However, my infatuation with Josh began to crack (just a little). As we sat in the movie, he kept leaning over and making comments.

“Jane, what song is that playing in the background? I really like it.”

I leaned over and whispered (the emphasis is on ‘whispered’), “It’s Coldplay.”

He leaned over and said (the emphasis is on ‘said’), “It’s Coldplay? Is it new or something, I’ve never heard it before?”

I leaned over closer and whispered even more softly, “It’s off their first album, Parachutes.”

He replied (in his normal talking voice), “Are you sure? I guess I didn’t listen much to their first album.”

He looked at me for a response. I needed to wrap this conversation up. “Josh, trust me. It’s off their Parachutes album. We can download it and listen to it after the movie.” He nodded. The discussion was over. (Phew!)

I was annoyed and amused at the same time. Not because he was talking during the movie (I do that all the time), but because it seemed that (despite all of his other charms) Josh was incapable of whispering. He has one of those deep resonating voices that carries above (or below) all other background noises.

After the movie, the three of us went to ‘The Groveland Tap’ and had Juicy Lucy’s. Josh and Bob have taken it upon themselves to eat at every restaurant in St. Paul that serves Juicy Lucy’s. I wanted to spend more time alone with Josh, but his roommate prevented that (which is probably a good thing).

We ended the evening early and the two residents went home. I grabbed my purse and hopped in my car. Bridget was in town for a job interview. I was on my way to hang out with her for a few hours.

I thought to myself on my way to Bridget’s hotel. “My god, Josh has a loud voice.”

10,000 Spoons Continued...

2005-09-26T20:04:00.000-05:00

I left off with the voicemail from Josh, the resident. I returned his call and our conversation ended with plans to meet for dinner the next night.

Josh picked me up at my apartment and we drove to Punch Neapolitan Pizza, my favorite pizza place in St. Paul. He was thoroughly impressed with my choice of restaurants. It was the one of the most pleasant evenings out that I’ve had in months. The conversation was genuine and indepth. We shared a half carafe of wine on the minuscule deck and talked for hours. We talked about... well life. Towards the end of our conversation the subject came up that I had been avoiding… his girlfriend.

He brought her up in passing and referred to her as “the girl that I’m dating”. I didn’t mind when our conversation changed direction and the mention of her was quickly forgotten.

We split the bill (at my insistence) and we left the restaurant. I was feeling hospitable and had him drive around Highland and Merriam Park. I showed him the Frank Lloyd Wright house. I showed him Izzy’s Icecream and Legacy Chocolates (my favorite chocolate shop!). I felt at ease with him and I was sad when he dropped me off.

As I walked up my apartment stairs (alone); I decided to leave him alone. But, I couldn’t help but be excited about my fantastic evening out. I thought to myself, ‘He has a girlfriend… He’s only in town for a few months. Why in the world would I want to get involved with a man who’s leaving?’ I already tried that once and got burned (by 40 Year Old). I was a tortured woman!

I sat in my apartment and psychoanalyzed the situation. In particular, I psychoanalyzed myself. Maybe I only fall for men when I know that they are either physically or emotionally unavailable? (Hmmm, that sounds deep…) Maybe I like the challenge? (That’s actually true, I’m mannish that way.) Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment? Whatever the explanation, by the time I went to bed, I resolved that Josh is off limits.

Amish Friendshit Bread

2005-09-26T07:23:00.000-05:00

Well, ten days into the Amish friendship bread recipe and I have failed… yet again, at another attempt to bake. I forgot to split the recipe into four parts before adding all the rest of the ingredients. (Despite the fact that I had step by step instructions sitting in front of me.) I’m stuck with a huge bowl of brown batter. Since only the Amish know the secret to the starter mix, I’m shit out of luck. I can’t pass along the bread batter to any of my friends. I’m not even sure if the batter will rise. (Marvan, I know you aren’t surprised by any of this.) I just popped it into the oven… I guess I’ll know for sure in about one hour.

Update: The bread initially looked successful. However, after tasting a slice, I’m confident that it is a failure. The initial flavor wasn’t terrible, but the bread has a distinct and vaguely familiar aftertaste. It leaves the same acidic burning aftertaste as vomit. I may never bake again!

I Don't Bite

2005-09-20T07:15:00.000-05:00

Last night I stood in my tiny galley kitchen in my quaint Saint Paul apartment mixing ingredients to a batch of Amish friendship bread that I received from… who else but a friend. I was chatting away on my cell phone and headset (as I normally do) with my friend Bridget. I was really distracted, but Bridget was extremely patient with the long pauses that kept creeping into our conversation. To be honest with you, I’m not very talented at talking and baking at the same time. Okay, correction… To be totally honest with you, I’m not very talented at baking PERIOD and it is utterly impossible for me to talk on the phone and do ANYTHING else at the same time. (The truth comes out!)

As Bridget and I attempted to converse while I spilled flour all over the counter, I heard a strange muted noise… (Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz) I thought to myself, is it the fan on the power source of my computer going out again? I walked over to the PC and put my ear up to it… nothing. But, now the buzzing was getting louder. Was it my ceiling fan? (I knew that it wasn’t bolted securely to the ceiling, because it had already shook the globe loose from the fixture two months ago.) I stood underneath the fan and listened… nothing. But, still the buzzing persisted.

Then the buzzing became intermittent and was loud enough that I could recognize the sound. Bzzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzz! Someone was standing outside the front of my building, buzzing all of the apartments!

I was still on the phone, when I threw my shoes on… “Bridget, some idiot is buzzing all of the apartments. I’m going to go downstairs to see what the problem is.”

When I got to the front entrance of my brownstone building, there was a man standing outside the door, shaking it, and trying to get in. I stood about six feet inside of the door. Before I had a chance to say anything to the man, he yelled from the other side, “Let me in!”

He was a larger man in his fifties, with a tight white wife beater t-shirt accentuating his large pregnant beer belly and his well formed breasts. (His breasts were bigger than mine… which isn’t saying much… But he had to be expecting twins.) He was clean shaven with long white hair, but was completely bald on top. By my estimates he was a Grade A, First Class Weirdo. I looked at him and yelled back, “Stop buzzing the buzzers!”

He yelled back, “Let me in!” (Dealing with weirdos is one of the drawbacks to living on the bus line.)

I yelled louder, “You don’t live here! I’m not letting you in!” He looked at me (with a glazed over expression) and buzzed the buzzers some more.

By this time my neighbor Shayna opened her door and some dude I had never seen before emerged from the basement studio apartment (where it’s rumored they deal pot). I looked at both of them and said, “Do either of you know this guy?”

They looked at me like I was crazy… of course they didn’t.

He was still buzzing when I yelled, “What’s wrong with you? We’re not letting you in. Go away!”

Then things got weird. He put one hand on his hip and his spare palm on the glass door and (if I’m not mistaken, I thought I heard a southern drawl) he said, “I don’t bite.”

I looked at Shayna and she shot me a look back. We both understood, yeah, this guy is nuts. I looked back at him and he repeated, “I don’t bite. I don’t bite.” His hand was still on his hip and his palm still on the glass. (Weird!)

I yelled at him, “Get the hell out of here, we’re calling the police!” He just kept staring at us and repeated, “I don’t bite. I don’t bite.”

It was at this point that I realized I was still on the phone with Bridget. “Oh my God! Bridget, are you hearing all this? This guy is crazy. I’ve got to let you go. I’m calling the police.” I didn’t give her time to answer… I hung up and tried dialing 911 (which is actually rather difficult on a cell phone.)

It didn’t matter. While I fumbled with my cell phone and the weirdo outside kept repeating, “I don’t bite. I don’t bite.” Shayna had successfully called 911 and asked them to send by a squad car. The dude in the basement studio (that I had never seen before), disappeared back into his smokey den. The man outside was still repeating, “I don’t bite. I don’t bite.” (He had probably said it 15 times, by the time I walked away.)

I finally turned around to go back upstairs to my apartment, but not before Shayna and I chatted for a few minutes in the hallway. I had never really talked to her before… just a wave here and there while coming in and out of the building. She’s a sign language interpreter. (How cool is that!)

It’s funny how all it takes is a weirdo saying, “I don’t bite. I don’t bite.” for neighbors to come together! Maybe I’ll pass along a batch of the Amish friendship bread to her. Yeah, that’s a nice thought!

Cougar Bar

2005-09-18T21:43:00.000-05:00

I was recently informed by my new friend "Richie", of a phenomenon known as a ‘Cougar Bar’. Before Friday night, I had never heard of the term.

Richie, Amelia, Billy, Jessy and myself (Jane, if you hadn’t figured that out already) had been enjoying a late happy hour at Bellanotte in the heart of downtown Minneapolis. They have a great patio and it’s possibly one of the best places to 'people watch' in the Twin Cities. As we jabbered away and soaked in the fabulous later summer weather, Richie paused, looked around the expansive patio bar and got a funny grin on his face.

He leaned into our circle and said, "Have you guys ever heard of a Cougar Bar?"

Amelia and I shrugged our shoulders, and I said, "A what bar?"

He repeated, "A Cougar Bar!"

We shook our heads no, and Richie began to explain. "When I used to live on the West Coast there was a bar down the street from my house. It was a great place to hang out and have a beer until later at night. Then, it turned into... a Cougar Bar."

Amelia piped in, "So what’s a Cougar Bar?"

Richie said, "It’s a bar where single (typically) divorced women in their forties come to prowl for younger men."

We began to laugh, not because of his explanation of what a Cougar Bar was, but because we realized what Richie had already realized. We were sitting in a Cougar Bar.

Over the past few hours on Bellanote’s patio, the crowd of people had gradually changed. There were no longer groups of coworkers having a Friday afternoon happy hour nor were any couples scattered about having romantic dinners. The atmosphere and the crowd was notably different. We were in the midst of a Cougar crowd! These women were perched on their high stilettos peering out beneath their thick dark eye makeup, over the herds of people, waiting patiently to pounce.

Sure... there were plenty of creepy old men hitting on younger girls. But there was a definate remnant of Cougars on the loose in Bellanote... waiting for their prey. (Meow...)

Amelia wasn’t sure that they were all women. She was convinced that a few of them were actually men. I had to agree with her in a few instances.

The next day I attempted to do some further research of the phenomenon of "Cougar Bars" I found some other varied definitions of what a "Cougar" was. The following description I liked in particular:

"Cougars are single, slightly-older women, who go out, dressed like they’re in their early twenties and get really really drunk while trying to meet (i) Young men or (ii) Rich older men. Cougars who, unlike women in their early twenties that are not extremely aggressive in their courting practices; are predators, which is a learned behavior they acquire in order to get the attention of men, who traditionally prefer to date younger women."

Now that I know that there’s a name for this behavior, it makes me wonder… Am I on my way to becoming a "Cougar?" (Dun, dun dun... forboding music....) If so, the bars of First and Hennepin Avenues... Beware!

A Narrow Escape From Mr. Chuckles

2005-09-14T23:45:00.000-05:00

What does one do, when they are no longer dating? Or rather, what does Jane do when she’s no longer dating? (Please don’t ask me why I’m writing in the third person.) Anyway, the answer is… I work. I work a lot!

I worked this evening at my part time retail job (my 2nd job). As much as it stinks having to put in 10-12 hour workdays, I really enjoy the people I work with and I don’t mind the work. There’s always something interesting going on. Today was no exception.

It was getting close to the end of my shift. It was 15 minutes before closing time, when I saw him. It was the same guy I had helped on two previous occasions over the past three weeks. He was back again. I would describe him as a nerdly fellow that took good care of himself. He wore pressed khakis and a blue dress shirt. It was tucked in and finished off with a belt. (It says something about a person, when they wear a belt. I’m not sure what… but it says something.)

I was busy straightening up my section of the store. I briskly walked by him and made a comment. “Are you back again? I’m not sure if there’s anything left in the store that you haven’t bought.” I had a teasing and sarcastic lilt in my voice.

He chuckled (I’m not kidding, he really did chuckle), “I just never realized how much stuff you guys have in your store. Every time I come here, I see more stuff that I need.”

We both chuckled… I was inadvertently mimicking his laugh. (A bad habit that I have to stop.) I think it’s a subconscious sales technique.

“Jane, that’s your name right?” As he looked down at my name tag. “You must work here a lot. All three times I’ve come into the store, you’ve been working. Is this your full time job?”

I chucked. (I really have to stop mimicking the customers’ laughs.) “No, no… I’ve just been working a lot lately.” (I didn’t tell him that it was a substitute for not dating.)

We bantered back and forth as I hurried him through picking out bathroom accessories. I found out that he worked in IT at Northwest Airlines. I told him what I did for a living and… he chuckled (again). We discussed the mechanic’s strike and his employer’s pending bankruptcy as I walked him to the front of the store to check out.

I knew what was coming as I scanned the items and started bagging his purchases.
“So Jane, are there any good coffee shops around here, open this time of night?” I could tell he was trying to be subtle, but I was two steps ahead of him and played dumb.

I didn’t want to be mean, but I just wasn’t interested. I’m seriously done with dating. “Well, there are some coffee shops, but not any good ones. You’ve always got Perkins to fall back on.” I chucked. (Crap, why can’t I stop mimicking… it’s really getting annoying.)

“Isn’t there a Starbucks down the street?” He was putting himself out there and I respect him for it, but I wasn’t budging on my position. I’m really seriously done dating.

“Yeah, there is, but it closed already. All the businesses near the mall shut down between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m. It’s already closed.”

“Oh, um, that’s too bad.” He said softly. He didn’t chuckle this time. I finished his transaction and told him to have a good night and that I’d probably see him around again.

I had shut him down. I felt bad, but my adventuresome dating spirit has vanished. My interest in the activity… is simply gone. Not even the promise of good conversation with this nameless nerdly guy (that shall henceforth be referred to as ‘Mr. Chuckles’) could motivate me to accept his invitation of coffee. I felt like a bizzo for brushing him off, but I need some time off from the sport.

My despondency about being a bizzo to the ‘nameless nerdly guy’ a/k/a ‘Mr. Chuckles’ was short lived. As I walked out to my new long term German boyfriend ‘Arie the Audi’ (Yes, I named him.) I saw a praying mantis sitting on the roof of my car. It was the largest praying mantis I’ve ever seen. A couple of my co-workers and I played with it for about 10 minutes. We poked at it with sticks, blew on it and took its picture with my phone. Eventually, we pulled a branch down and let it crawl back into the tree it dropped from. That mantis must have been 6 inches from end to end! It made me chuckle.

Dating Boycott

2005-09-13T20:17:00.000-05:00

I’ve decided to stop dating. It’s not so much a decision as I’m simply bored with it. I’ve lost interest. I don’t know what’s happened to me. Things were progressing with Keith and I’m still having a good time getting to know Josh (in a plutonic sense only), but I’m bored with dating. I’m tired of the time investment. I barely have enough time to hang out with my friends and when you throw a dating relationship into the mix… well, it completely consumes my schedule.

My boycott on dating started a few weeks ago, when I was planning my class reunion. I was consumed with preparations, calling people and making arrangements to get back to my hometown. I just didn’t have time for it. After I got back from the reunion, well I just didn’t feel like it. I started declining Keith’s T.V. dates (which really annoyed him) and every time Josh called me to hang out; I had something else going on.

Dating has lost its excitement… I need to find a new hobby.

Coincidence?

2005-08-30T17:52:00.000-05:00

A week and a half after the birthday party on Lake Minnetonka, I got a phone message from Josh’s roommate, Bob. He invited me to a baseball game (with the whole group… that had met at Margo’s party). I declined, because I had to work at my second job. But, I told them to give me a call afterwards if they went out for drinks. They called me back and told me to meet them in downtown St. Paul at one of the many Irish Pubs near the Excel Energy Center. Our group included, Josh, Josh’s roommate Bob, another single doctor (Aaron), Abby, Abby’s friend and me.

I didn’t talk to Josh the entire evening. (He was seated at the other end of the table.) Instead, I chatted with his friend Aaron, who happened to be from my hometown! We even knew some of the same people. What a riot! A couple of times throughout the night I glanced over at Josh and a couple of times he glanced back (but never the eye lock that we had at the party). It was getting late and we were all ready to go. I mentioned I wouldn’t be around next week, because I was heading home for a vacation back home (in 'my home state').

Josh turned around, “Where are you going to be? I’m going to be in 'my home state' next week to."

I looked at Josh and said, “I’m going to be staying out by the lakeshore.”

Josh replied, “That’s funny, I’m going to be at the lakeshore for the first half of the week, but then I’m going to Ohio for the second part of the week.”

I starred at him, looked him directly in the eye, and said, “That’s really weird. I’m going to Akron, Ohio the second part of the week. Where are you going to be in Ohio?”

He stared back at me with a strange look, “I’m going to be in Akron, Ohio! Are you going to the golf tournament?”

I broke the stare, “No, I’m going there for a wedding, but that’s weird isn’t it? What a coincidence!” We both looked at each other again with a strange look. (Hmmm.)

I told him to give me a buzz when he was out at the lake if he wanted to hang out. He never called (I found out later that he didn't call, because he was at the lake with his girlfriend's family), and I never actually ended up going to the wedding in Ohio, but that’s another long story.

We both went on our respective vacations back home and never talked. What did I care anyway, he has a girlfriend! And, I'm done with dating... FOR REAL THIS TIME! I put the entire "bug in my eye boating incident" out of my mind. It was all a waste of my time.

The day after I got back from vacation I noticed a missed call and a new voicemail on my phone. It was from Josh. I listened intently:

"Hi, Jane... this is Josh. I was just wondering how your vacation was and when you get back in town. Give me a call when you get a chance."

I bet you're all wondering whether I called Josh (the big waste of my time) back. Of course! But, you have to wait until my next post to find out what happened. Stay tuned...

10,000 Spoons

2005-08-29T20:10:00.000-05:00

“It's like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. It's meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife."

A few weeks ago I went to a birthday party on Lake Minnetonka. It was a great bash… for my friend Margo. Margo’s husband is a doctor doing his residency. Most of his friends are other doctors doing their residencies. At this birthday bash, were all of Margo’s single girlfriends and all of her husband’s single guy friends. (I think they like to think of themselves as ‘informal matchmakers’.)

Everyone was having a great time. It was ANOTHER 90 degree day, but we had the lake to relieve us. We boated, mingled and grilled out. You couldn’t have asked for a better Saturday afternoon.

Throughout the party, everyone made the rounds introducing themselves. I was introduced to two doctors from 'my home state'. I immediately hit it off with one of them. His name is 'Josh'. 'Josh' and I proceeded to talk about where he was from and where I was from. We jabbered away and then we had one of those strange moments. Our eyes locked on each other and a staring contest ensued. It went on for what seemed like a minutes (but it was probably closer to 20 seconds) and then we both turned away as we were interrupted by other conversations. (A connection… hmmm…)

The thing about 'Josh' that stuck out most in my mind, when I met him, was his voice. It was a great voice, deep and clear… (this resident has resonance).

We didn’t get to talk for the rest of the afternoon. Other people were vying for our attention, but periodically we would glance at each other. I was definitely intrigued.

Towards the end of the night, we all went on a boat ride. I sat at the front of the boat and enjoyed the warm breeze in my face. The water was like glass. I scanned the horizon for Mars (it's supposed to be visible to the naked eye) and thought about how wonderful the day had been, when...

(zzzzzzz pudd), A large insect flew directly into my eyeball. "Aaaahhh!" I turned around to avoid more bugs hitting my face.

Margo's husband chuckled, "Bug in your eye Jane? I already swallowed two!"

By the time we got back to shore, my eye was red and irritated. I tried everything I could to clean it out. I looked a mess. Besides a red swollen eye, all my makeup had washed off, I was sunburned and my hair was in snarls from the wind whipping it around. (My eye must have looked bad, because everyone kept commenting on it.)

Josh spoke up. “Do you want me to take a look at your eye in the bathroom?”

I laughed, “You’re an orthopedist, what do you know about eyeballs!”

With his quick wit, he snapped back, “I’m good with eyes, I used to remove them from cadavers in medical school as a side job.”

That wasn’t the response I was expecting to hear, but I thought it was funny. "Well Josh, it sounds like you know what you’re doing. Have at it!”

We went into the bathroom, he inverted my eyelid and flushed the bug out. It was awkward, silly and kind of sweet as we stood in the bathroom together. He repeated the process a few times and eventually my eye cleared up. (It was a moment… a weird one, but definitely a moment.)

All the singles at the party left at the same time. As we walked out to our cars in the driveway, I suggested that we exchange numbers. Josh, Josh’s roommate (Bob), Abby (another single gal) and myself stood in the driveway in the pitch dark typing each other's digits into our phones. Our faces were lit up, reflecting the bluish glow from our cell phones. (It probably looked pretty spooky.)

The next day, I talked to Margo and told her that the four of us (all the singles) planned on hanging out again soon.

Margo asked, “So Jane, what do you think of the visiting residents?”

I joked with her, “Margo, they’re both so cute… I don’t know which one I like better.” (Actually… I knew exactly which one I liked better… Josh!)

Margo was riding in the car with her husband and she repeated what I said to him, then I heard him in the background say, “Tell Jane the choice isn’t that hard, only one of them is single… Josh has a girlfriend.”

My heart sank. (10,000 spoons... crap!)

The Awkward Moments That You Cherish

2005-08-14T22:59:00.000-05:00

This week I took my new boyfriend home to meet my family. They all immediately fell in love with him. (Particularly my dad and my brothers… He’s a man’s man.) His German accent didn't seem to bother them. I know it's never bothered me. Anyway, my new boyfriend and I took my sister and my dad to get icecream at ‘The Cone Hut’.

I pulled into the parking lot and was trying to downshift instead of just braking. (I’ve only been driving a stick shift for two days. I’m still getting a feel for him… we still have our awkward moments.) Well, I stalled him out in front of four teenage boys. I restarted him and tried again, but I stalled again… and again. My dad and sister hopped out of my Audi and got in line for icecream, while I figured this out. Then I leaned out the window and laughed,

"Oops, I have it in third gear… no wonder I can’t get it to go!"

The boys on the bench outside ‘The Cone Hut’ all laughed mockingly at me. (Jerks!) But, I didn’t care. I have the bestest boyfriend a girl could ever ask for!

I slid him into first gear and parked him away from all the 'common' cars. My sister, my dad and I ate our icecream on the bench. It was a nice mild summer night back in my hometown. (What a great beginning to my vacation.)

By the time the sky started to get dark, I had completely forgotten about those obnoxious boys. The icecream tasted great and I never noticed when they got up to leave. Nor did I notice when they piled into their 2003 silver Grand Prix. I had completely forgotten, until…

They pulled along side our bench, stopped the car and the driver (the punk!) leaned out and said… "Oops, I guess I forgot it was in third gear!"

All the boys roared in laughter. (They thought they were so cool.) They peeled away and started to corner ‘The Cone Hut’ when the finger of fate dug around in his nostril, picked a huge booger and wiped it on those punks. (Oh sweet justice!)

At this juncture I would like to give my readers some background on the setting of my story. ‘The Cone Hut’ has a drive through lane around the back. To separate the drive through lane from the parking lot; there is a curb about 2 ½ feet wide. The curb extends around half of the building to guide traffic to the drive through window. Okay now back to the story…

The boys had no sooner peeled away when we heard a thud, we turned to see that their front driver’s side tire had driven up (just a little bit) onto the curb and then it fell back down onto the regular pavement. The boys thought they were in the clear, but didn’t realize that the angle at which they had driven up and down the curb, left the 2 ½ foot curb positioned between the front driver’s side tire and the rear driver’s side tire. They really thought they were good to go, so the punk that made the rude comment to me... well, he floored it!

The car bottomed out as the rear driver’s side tire slammed into the curb. (The scraping noise must have been heard for blocks.) The back of the car was instantaneously launched two feet into the air (I’ve never seen anything like it.) My sister screamed in delight and shouted "Morons!" I couldn’t stop laughing and my dad’s mouth hung open. We kept waiting for the car to pull around the other side of ‘The Cone Hut’ so we could point and laugh at them, but they didn’t come around. Five minutes later, after the foolish boys had gotten out of their car to inspect the damage (behind the building and our of our sight line), they meekly pulled around the other side of the ‘The Cone Hut’ and exited out onto the street… Their windows were rolled up and they were facing forward.

My dad walked over to the curb to inspect. There was a 3-inch long groove carved ¾ of an inch deep into the curb where the car was launched. He shook his head and said, "That had to have done some major damage."

I turned to my sister and said, "I think I looked a whole lot cooler in my stalled out Audi A4 than they looked in their bottomed out Grand Prix."

She nodded in agreement as she finished up her ‘cherry slurpie vanilla icecream float’, "Oh yeah Janie, way cooler!"

A Date With An Audi

2005-08-14T19:43:00.000-05:00

I had a date with an Audi A4 Friday night. (Schnickers introduced us.) I’ve decided I’m going to have a long-term relationship with this Audi. For some reason I’m not having any commitment issues with him. (He must be the one!) He and I are in it for the long haul. I’ve already asked him to move in with me. I had to pay him to stay, but he was worth every penny and then some. He’s the strong, fast, quiet type with 4 wheel drive, 2.8 Quattro, sport suspension, manual transmission, green exterior and charcoal/black interior. Last night when we were alone… I whispered to him that I love him. He didn’t say anything back, but he didn’t have to. I could tell by the way he handled on the road… that he loved me to!

Burning Down The House

2005-08-08T18:04:00.000-05:00

So, I almost burnt my apartment down this weekend… almost!

First I would like to present you with my explanation for this almost-accident. There really is a good reason for it! (Really…)

My world is currently in a state of chaos. I’m up to my ears in chaos. Yes, (I’ll agree with many of you who know me) the majority of my chaos is self-inflicted.

I’m currently attempting to search for and purchase a new vehicle (the insurance company totaled mine after my car accident in June). I’m trying to plan a class reunion (It’s already been 10 years!) I’m working two jobs and running a ton of errands before I leave on vacation next week. (I can't wait to leave town.) Lastly, I’m functioning on very little sleep. As you can all see, my life is unmistakably chaotic.

Anyway, here’s what happened… I woke up Sunday morning at 8:30 a.m. I was determined to go to church, even though I had to work at 11 a.m. I could barely open my eyes. I had gotten eight hours of sleep the night before, but I just couldn’t kick it in to gear.

I stumbled into the bathroom (and did my business). Then I stumbled into the kitchen, plopped a couple of eggs into a small pot with water and turned on the stove. (Mmmm, boiled eggs sounded good that morning.)

I went back into my bedroom and lay down. I listened intently for the water to start to boil; it would just be a few minutes. (Yeah, just a few minutes…)

I woke up around 10 a.m. to a sound that I thought was my alarm. It wasn’t! My fire alarm was going off and then I remembered… “Oh crap! The eggs!”

I ran into the smoke filled kitchen to see the eggs popping at the bottom of a waterless burnt pot. The eggs had split open and the insides were black and orange. At first I thought the orange was the yoke… it wasn’t! Good god, the inside of the eggs were actually starting to ember and glow. I dumped the eggs into the sink and poured water on them. (Phew!)

I had to stand under my fire alarm for the next few minutes fanning the smoke away, so it would stop chirping. My apartment wreaked the rest of the day. But, at least I didn’t die.

I’d live to see another day... another day of chaos.

Asexual

2005-08-02T18:16:00.000-05:00

I was recently accused of being ‘asexual’.

“Keith” is the one who said it. It was harsh!

Webster’s defines 'asexual' as being one of three things: “1. Having no evident sex or sex organs; sexless. (Dear god I hope that isn’t me…) 2. Relating to, produced by, or involving reproduction that occurs without the union of male and female gametes, as in binary fission or budding. (I’m not sure what that means.) 3. Lacking interest in or desire for sex. (I think this is what ‘Keith’ meant, when he called me asexual.)

The conversation started when 'Keith' and I were sitting on the couch, watching television and talking. We talked about last summer and the summer before that when we had gone out on a few dates here and there, but nothing ever happened between us.

I said to him, “I thought you were really cool and always wondered why you never pursued things with me.”

He hemmed and hawed and said something like, “Jane, I didn’t think you were attracted to me.”
I could tell he was holding something back. I pushed it a little more with him, “Well Keith, you always seemed to have a swarm of gorgeous women throwing themselves at you, whenever we went out in a group. I figured that if you were interested in me, you’d make the first move… and you never did.” (He did have a large number hot friends that were girls.)

He laughed a little bit, but it was a nervous laugh. He was definitely holding something back. “What is it? ‘Keith’, you can’t laugh like that and not tell me what you’re thinking!”

After a few more minutes of provocation, he finally admitted to me, “Well, Jane, I liked you and thought you were a ton of fun, but you just seemed well… kind of… kind of… asexual to me.”

It was dead silence between us for about 20 seconds. My eyes were huge and staring right at him. His eyes looked like they were waiting for a volcano to erupt. (Images of Marilyn Manson singing ‘The Dope Show' in his androgynous body suit ran through my head… Gross!) I didn’t know what to say. There was some more silence between us and then I said,

“Asexual?”

He still had a fearful look on his face, like he knew that he (totally) said the wrong thing. Some more time passed, then I said,

“And, that’s why you never made a move on me?” He nodded in response… and I mumbled under my breath, “absolutely ridiculous.”

Even more time passed… Thank goodness the T.V. was on, otherwise the silence would have been unbearable.

“Okay, now you’re telling me that for the past two years that we’ve known each other, you never made a move, because you thought I was asexual?” He nodded again.

I think I may have repeated it a few more times before I finally leaned in and started kissing him. (I’d show him.)

About twenty minutes later I gave him a breather.

He said he changed his mind.

A T.V. Date?

2005-08-01T17:30:00.000-05:00

I was invited over for another "T.V. Date" with Keith tonight. I'm not sure what to call this. Is this a date or isn't it? I'll keep you posted...

Non-Dating Update

2005-07-31T23:05:00.000-05:00

I have done something this past week and a half that is quite strange for me… I haven’t dated. Instead, I’ve spent my spare time hanging out with friends and in one case an ex-boyfriend that I’m now friends with. My ‘date nights’ have turned into ‘friend nights’ (or ‘drama-free nights’).

Last weekend, my friend Amelia and I spent an entire evening discussing the finer points of religion, the new Harry Potter book, and what it would be like to be armless. It was great fun and became even more fun after we finished off our first bottle of Chardonay. Our second bottle had us sitting on the floor trying to drink our glasses of wine with just our feet and toes. The experiment was a failure, but we laughed so hard it made us snort.

The next evening I met up with my friend Margo. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her, because she travels so much for her job. Margo is my ‘romantic British flick friend’. Last Christmas her mother-in-law gave her the A&E Romance Collection DVD set. (Her husband refuses to watch them with her.) Throughout the year we’ve worked our way through mini-series after mini-series. We finished up ‘Emma’, ‘Tom Jones’ and ‘Pride and Prejudice’. Our next conquest is ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’.

On occasion we try to mix things up. Once we interrupted our ‘romantic British movie’ night with the Sci-Fi Channels production of ‘The Legend of Earth Sea’ (Margo and I share the same terrible taste in television). Another time (when I was depressed about the ’40 Year Old’ situation) we watched ‘The Sweetest Thing’. (Did you really think I could go an entire blog entry without mentioning him?) Anyway, we love that movie and Margo always jokes that she’s Christina Applegate (sexy and savy attorney) and I’m Cameron Diaz (non-committal blonde)…. (Awe, sookie sookie!)

Last weekend was one of those occasions when we decided to divert from the norm. (Don’t worry Colin Firth, we won’t neglect you for long.) We decided to see ‘Fantastic Four’. The movie was so-so, but the fun part about hanging out with Margo is going to the super market before the movie, buying all of our candy and goodies cheap and then smuggling the items into the theater undetected in her Gucci purse. I love living on the edge!

As I mentioned earlier, I even hung out with an ex-boyfriend this past week. It’s a surreal experience to hang out with an ex. Especially when he reads your blog. It was really nice. We sat on my couch for four hours, watched PBS, ate Dairy Queen and discussed each other’s current dating situations. Some of his insights into my dating predicaments were quite refreshing.

Now, I’m sure some of you were wondering what ever happened on my date with Keith. Let me tell you… nothing. Keith has a demanding job. He didn’t have a lot of energy left on the evening we were supposed to go on our date.

Instead, we just met at his townhouse, sat around, watched Comedy Central and joked for a few hours. (It’s really hard to pull yourself away from the T.V. when Reno 911 is on.) He was really tired and to be honest, so was I. It was great to catch up with him and I had a good time, but it wasn’t much of a date. We’ve been emailing and calling each other a few times a week since then. But, we’re starting to run into the same problem that we had the last few times we tried dating… we can’t get our schedules to match. Hhmmm… maybe we are destined to always ‘just be friends’. (Bridget has actually been saying that for a while…)

The Conclusion To A Long Drawn Out Story...

2005-07-22T18:44:00.000-05:00

"40 Year Old" was in town last weekend. I picked him up from the airport on Saturday and we had a fantastic evening out. The old feelings were still there along with that undeniable spark. It was one of the best dates I've ever had with him. (Yes, for all intents and purposes... it was a date.)

He was busy all day Sunday and Monday with meetings and wrapping up the final details with moving the rest of his belongings. Monday evening I called him. I was tired (and I admit, a bit cranky because of certain female factors).

He was exhausted and apparently not extremely tolerant. I told him I wanted to see him again before he left on Tuesday.

"Jane, that's impossible... it's just not going to work out with my schedule." He yawned into the phone.

I whined at him, "Yeah, yeah... it's always about you and your schedule."

"Jane, I told you on Saturday evening that I wasn't going to have anymore time to see you. Listen, I'll call you in a few weeks." His voice started to raise... just a little.

In my mind, I thought to myself, 'a few weeks, that's a load of *expletive*'. But instead I mumbled under my breath... "Whatever."

He didn't like that. He got mad. "Why are you being so passive aggressive with me?"

I don't like being called passive aggressive, but it's funny because he's about the 3rd person in the past six months to have called me that. (Interesting... I'll explore that thought in another blog post.) Anyway, the tone of my voice became defensive and I went back at him, "Simply because I'm disappointed that we aren't able to meet up before you leave doesn't make me passive aggressive! Do you expect me to be happy when you tell me you'll call me IN A FEW WEEKS!"

He yelled, "I'm never going to call or talk to you again if this is how you're going to act!"

I let loose, "That is the most manipulative and mean thing anyone has ever said to me, why are you so hostile?"

He yelled back, "I'm lying in bed. I'm exhausted. I just want to go to sleep. I shouldn't have even picked up the phone, but it was you so I made an (expletive) exception!" (For the record, I didn't know he was almost asleep when I called. Also, there were alot more expletives mixed into this conversation.)

I tried to gain my composure and lowered my voice. "Listen, it's obvious that we're both tired and we're going to say something we'll regret. Let's talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay." Then the phone clicked on his end.

I was really upset.

The next morning I woke up and knew exactly what I needed to do. I sent him an email apologizing and telling him that what he said hurt me. He emailed back shortly thereafter and apologized saying that he would call me when he got off the plane so we could talk.

When he called later, we 'calmly' discussed 'us'. I told him that I couldn't see him anymore. That at most, we could be friends but preferably, friends that rarely (if ever) see each other. He said that he was disappointed with my decision, but understood.

THE END.

To Blog Or Not To Blog (straight from the horse's mouth)

2005-07-22T06:32:00.000-05:00

Dutch and I walked into the pub near my apartment (I can’t tell you how great it is to live 2 blocks from one of the best Irish pubs in the Twin Cities).

We sat down opposite each other with our backs to the wall and our feet hanging over the front edge into the aisle. (This was our regular people watching pose.) I looked back and forth at the variety of butts sitting on the stools in front of us at the bar.

“Hey Dutch, I think I can see that chick’s butt crack.”

He leaned over and looked, “Yeah, just a little bit… cool.”

Our discussion this night varied in many respects, but it primarily focused on whether or not I should post my next blog about “40 Year Old”. I ended things with him earlier this week. (Permanently in my mind.) I said goodbye and good luck. It’s a drama filled blog about our final encounter.

I had already talked to "Bridget" about it. She thinks I need to post it and bring some closure the matter. She thinks I’ve been protecting “40 Year Old” to some extent… that I haven’t showed my friends, family and fellow bloggers what a jerk he is. But, "Bridget" has never met him. Her opinion is based solely on what I’ve vented to her about. In fact, I’ve never introduced him to any of my friends.

"Austin HP", agrees and thinks it will help me move on and forget him. But, he said he would understand if the subject matter was too personal to share with everyone. (Hhhmmm, but there’s something to be said about the power of confession.)

Tonight, I’m talking to “Dutch” about it. These were his thoughts:

“Don’t post it! You’re going to see him again, because you always do. By posting a final conclusion to the “40 Year Old” saga, you are setting yourself up for major criticism from everyone. Because, you and I both know that the next time he’s in town you will go out with him. Don’t do it!”

“I think I’m going to do it!" ("Dutch" rolled his eyes) "But, don’t worry Dutch… I’m going to wait a few days until my hormones calm down and then I’ll be able to think and write more clearly.”

“Dutch” shrugged off my decision, “Honestly Jane, I don’t care… I don’t read your blog anyway. Why should I when I can hear it directly from the horse’s mouth? I only read it when you tell me that you mentioned me in it.”

(Neigh…Neigh... Clippidy Clop) “Dutch” is still bitter about how I described him in the blog entry “Off the Hook”. This was his comment:

“Jane, I wasn’t even sitting on a stool, you made me sound like a complete idiot by making me fall off of it when you said, “Off the Hook”… you aren’t that funny… you’re entertaining… but you aren’t that funny!"

"Dutch" and I sat at the bar until 1:00 a.m. (on a school night no less) I was perfectly content to keep sitting there, but Dutch made me leave when Oasis’ Wonderwall started playing on the overhead.

“Today is gonna be the day, when I’m… blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…” I couldn’t remember the words exactly. But, I sang them anyway.

“Jane, get up, we’re leaving now!”

“Dutch, I want to finish singing the song. They haven’t gotten to the chorus yet. I love this song.” (I was singing it just loud enough for the people around us to enjoy it.)

“Jane, I’ll leave you here and you’ll have to walk home if you don’t leave with me now.” (the two blocks to home weren’t scaring me… his threats were idle.) “Listen, It’s not that you don’t have a nice voice. I just don’t want to listen to it.”

I looked at him and said, “Okay.” (He had a valid point.) I let him drive me home and I went to bed.

The Trouble With Audis (Part II)

2005-07-14T19:12:00.000-05:00

I have been receiving an overwhelming amount of feedback from my friends about the psychology of cars and in particular "Audis".

This is what "Bridget" had to say:

"There are a few blogs that say: Real men drive Audis. Which is of course to say, men who feel inadequate drive the bigger names, Mercedes, BMW, Lexus. Men who drive Audis could have two reasons for choosing them. One, they appreciate the German engineering and luxury of the Audi but don't feel the need to acquire the big name. Conversely, by not acquiring the big name, they do not acquire the big payment. 'Austin HP' who drives the country cousin is a smart man. He bought the German engineering and comfort without the big price tag. You see, even though Audi salesmen deny that VW and Audi are the same company or the same manufacturer, VW salesmen claim that the Passat is the exact same thing, made on the same platform with the same engine, as the A4. Both can't be true, but they look an awful lot alike.
So, real men drive Audis. Or so they tell themselves. -Bridget"

"Bridget" also recommended this website, and I have to say... it has a pretty interesting take on the subject... http://www.bankrate.com/brm/news/auto/20021204a.asp

The Trouble With Audis (Part I)

2005-07-14T18:24:00.000-05:00

I noticed a trend with many of the men I’ve dated recently. None of them have any particular qualities or looks in common, except one thing. They drive Audis!

I’ve never completely understood the psychology of cars and men. (Or as Tom Cruise calls it, the pseudo science of cars and men.) Supposedly, the type of car that a man drives can give you insight into his personality. Hopefully, one of my readers can explain this to me.

“40 Year Old” drove a white Audi A4. It was a nice car, but nothing extravagant. He even let me drive it on occasion. (The fool!)

“Creepy John” drove a black Audi A6. (FYI, “Creepy John” has been renamed by many of my friends and readers as “Boob Grabber”.) Anyway, his was a beautiful car. The wheels were… well, they were just…lovely. (You all thought I was going to say “off the hook” didn’t you!)

“Mr. Personality” drove a white Audi A6. This car was even prettier than “Boob Grabber’s” A6. When I rode in it. It felt like I was on a yacht. There was wood paneling everywhere. But, he lied about everything… so who’s to say that it was even his car?

I have a date tomorrow with “Keith”. I’ve been on dates with “Keith” before, a few times two years ago and again one year ago. I enjoy going out with him and he enjoys going out with me, but we have never (and I mean never) been able to get our schedules to work out. (Everything from vacations, funerals and final exams have interfered with our plans.) He travels a lot for his job and I have two jobs. We started emailing each other lately. He is notorious for not stepping up and making the first move (because typically with him, the girls make the first move). To expedite matters, I sent him the following email:

“Dear Keith, I’m sending you this emailing to subtly suggest that you ask me out for drinks or dinner or both. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to ask you myself. –Jane”

He emailed right back, “Dear Jane, I have a great idea! How about we meet for drinks or dinner or both? When are you available? – Keith”

We’re going out tomorrow (unless the gods intervene and cause some unforeseen event to prevent us from going out…. honestly it wouldn’t surprise me).

Okay, now that you have the background on “Keith”… here’s the snafu. “Keith” drives a black Audi A4!

What does this mean? (Beats me…) I feel like I’ve come full circle with Audis (and perhaps men).

I talked to “Austin HP” about this trend. He flipped out, “Jane, oh my god… does this mean I have to sell my blue Passat? (He loves his Passat.) The Passat is the country cousin to the Audi A6. I don’t want my car to be distantly related to ‘Boob Grabber's’ or ‘Mr. Personality's’ cars!”

I told him he was fine, because his Passat was blue and I’ve never met a blue car I didn’t like.

Maybe my friend “Schnickers” will have some insight into this subject. He drove an Audi A4 for years, but it was a burnt orange or metallic sunset color. I’ll have to ask him.

Peep Show

2005-07-13T19:10:00.000-05:00

The heat wave here in the Twin Cities has been relentless. The enthusiasm that we Minnesotans normally exert with the onset of warmer weather has waned. We are being forced back inside.

Yesterday we experienced a brief hiatus from the oppressive temperatures… a slight breeze began to blow. It was heavenly and the patios in downtown Minneapolis once again began to fill up and smiles returned the faces of its fine citizens.

Downtown was where I was heading... to meet a friend for drinks after work.

I was driving along I-94 when a big blue van started pacing along side my car. I didn’t notice it at first, but eventually I looked over at the driver and passenger. They were middle-aged men who were both looking down into my car… at me. I looked ahead and thought to myself, “why are they staring at me?”

It was extremely uncomfortable and I could see out of the corner of my eye that they were still staring down at me. This went on for over a minute (which is an eternity when you’re driving). I was starting to get mad, when I inadvertently glanced down at the front of my shirt.

(Oops!) Because of the way I had sat down in my car, my loose fitting sleeveless V-neck silk shirt gaped wide open. The two gentlemen in the van next to me had a clear and unobstructed view of the front of my bra and boobies.

I started steering my car with my knees and adjusted my blouse. The men knew they were caught and promptly sped away. The peep show was over! Although I can’t imagine that the size of my assets provided much entertainment. (I know I’d be disappointed.)

However, as they sped away, I noticed a logo on the side of their van. It said, “First Baptist Church”.

Classic!

Dry Spell

2005-07-05T21:16:00.000-05:00

Of late, my dating life has slowed down dramatically. The saying holds true, ‘when it rains… it pours’. This spring I was bombarded with dates. I think the warming weather triggers a reaction in men. I call it ‘The Twitterpated Factor’. (See the movie ‘Bambi’ for a more in depth discussion on Twitterpation.)

However, now my dating life has come to a halt (not a screeching halt, but a definite halt). The springtime dating frenzy is over and the summer lull has set in.

I realize that I’m supposed to be on a dating sabbatical and I am enjoying my down time (really I am... I know Cali-Goose has a hard time believing that one), but right now I don’t even have the option of dating, even if I wanted to.

It’s been a while since I’ve talked to “40 Year Old”. Yeah, I get an email here and there (once… maybe twice a week), but it’s just short chitchat between us. I mean, what else can it be? He lives half way across the country.

My prediction is that my dating life will remain sluggish if not dead in the water until the fall. The fall weather has an effect similar to the spring’s ‘Twitterpated Factor’. I call it “The Snuggle Factor” (for lack of a better catch phrase). I theorize that the chill in the air and the shorter nights entice people to seek out other people for the purpose of cuddling.

Hopefully, “The Snuggle Factor” and me kicking my social life up a notch or two (after my sabbatical is over) will do the trick and produce more dates (hopefully). Otherwise, I may have to change my name from Jane Dater to Jane Dateless.

Off the Hook!

2005-07-05T17:49:00.000-05:00

I was informed this weekend that I am the only person who still uses the phrase “off the hook”.

I was at Gabe’s with a group of friends that included “Bridget” (who was visiting from out of town) and “Dutch”. The topic of our discussion… Where was the best place to have breakfast in the Twin Cities? “Dutch” relentlessly defended ‘Keys Café’, (but only the White Bear Lake location). “Bridget” insisted upon the Grandview Grill. My restaurant of choice, “Rudolph’s”!

The Coors Light had gone down easily that night and I was determined to get my point across. To emphasize my belief that Rudolph’s had the best breakfast around, I got everyone’s attention at the bar and said in my most confident voice, ”Rudolph’s has the best Sunday brunch. It’s off the hook!”

I was confused for a good 30 seconds, because everyone at the bar (about 10 people) started laughing… at me. “Dutch” fell off his stool. Another friend, “Sandra” had to put her head down on the bar, because she was laughing so hard. Even the bartender had to put his shaker down. I didn’t get it until “Bridget” piped in, “Jane, I think you’re the only person left in the free world… or at least since 1990, that still uses the phrase, ‘Off the hook’.”

My face turned red (as usual... I hate having the complexion of Larry Bird). I shouted across the bar, “Bridget, I know for a fact that people were still saying ‘off the hook’ well into 1994!”

That probably wasn’t the best thing for me to say, because it just made everyone laugh even harder. “Bridget” gained her composure and looked at me sympathetically. “You’re right honey. I take it back. I think you’re the only person to use that phrase since the last decade.”

I appreciated that “Bridget” qualified her statement.

A FOLLOW UP NOTE:
“Dutch” and I went to the fireworks in downtown St. Paul yesterday evening. As we were walking to the patch of grass by the Science Museum with the best view, he started laughing to himself.

“What’s so funny Dutch?”

He shook his head, but had a huge smile on his face. “Jane, you know how I went to the Boys to Men concert at the Taste of Minnesota?”

I looked at him and said, “Yeah.”

“Well, you aren’t the only person that still says ‘off the hook’. One of the guys from ‘Boys to Men’ referred to something as ‘off the hook’ while he was on stage. It made me laugh out loud. I got a few strange looks from the people around me. No one could figure out what was so funny.”

I was vindicated! I WASN'T the only person left in the world that still says ‘off the hook’. Boys to Men still said it! Actually, I think “Junior” still says it to.

Anyway... to my friends, family and fellow bloggers: I hope your 4th of July weekend was ‘off the hook!’

It's okay to "Just Say No"

2005-06-28T00:23:00.000-05:00

You're all going to be so proud of me. I turned down a date. I was asked out by a Hennepin County Deputy Sheriff. He was really nice and had been extremely helpful, but I could see his angle. (Unfortunately, I had set myself up for it.)

After he finished helping me, I told him that I owed him big time. (I thought it was just an expression... but) He said, "You can always make it up to me by buying me a drink!"

We both laughed... it was witty of him (kind of), but I just wasn't feeling him.

I joked back, "Maybe I'll have to do that, but I don't venture out of Ramsey and Anoka counties too often..." (I needed to get out of there fast! I could see where this was leading...)

"Well, you could also make it up to me by letting 'me' buy 'you' a drink right now." (He was good! I have to admit... much more forthright than most Minnesota men.)

"It's a tempting offer, but I have to get back to my office. Maybe some other time..."

I didn't give him time to respond, because I was halfway down the hallway. I had escaped! I was home free! Phew! I did it! I just said 'no' (...kind of).

Pork Chops and Cosmopolitans

2005-06-27T23:54:00.000-05:00

I had the strangest experience the other weekend at my part time retail job. I was helping an older gentleman and his significantly younger wife (he looked about seventy and she looked about mid-forties). At least I think it was his wife… it could have been his daughter.

Maybe I need to restart the story. I was doing a terrible job helping an older gentleman and his significantly younger wife. I couldn’t seem to help them with anything. I kept joking and the old man seemed to appreciate it. He finally asked me, "It’s obvious that you don’t work here full time." (My lack of knowledge regarding the particular products probably clued him off.) "What do you do full time?"

I laughed, but was reluctant to say. "Um, I don't think you want to know."

Within two guesses, he had figured it out. I was in shock! Then he asked, "Did you graduate from (Undisclosed) University?"

My eyes got big and I stood there surprised and a little freaked out. I said, "Do I know you? How did you guess my occupation and my college?"

He grinned and said, "Jane, you’re an easy read. You’re probably wondering how I know your name… don’t worry… it’s because you’re wearing a name tag!" He was enjoying this.

I shot him a skeptical look. "Seriously, do I know you? What do you do for a living… run a psychic phone network?" He laughed and again said… "Jane, you’re an easy read!" (I’m still not sure what that means.)

We chatted a bit longer. It ended up that he was a restauranteur. He owns three popular places in downtown Minneapolis. I told him I’d always wanted to try one of his restaurants. He asked for my address and I gave it to him.

To my delight (four days later), I received $60 in gift certificates to all three of his restaurants. (I guess it’s true, I do have a way with older men!)

Dutch and I went to the Monte Carlo last Saturday. We had a riot! I drank cosmopolitans and ate pork chops and Dutch drank gin & tonic and ate shrimp. (I would have asked Junior, but he still hasn’t apologized for blaspheming the Pistons.)

After the Monte Carlo we headed over to the Newsroom and grabbed a table on their patio. We drank and drank and watched people walk by on Nicollet Avenue. (Well… I drank and drank. Apparently Dutch only had a Summit.) But anyway, it was a beautiful night. There was a warm breeze blowing through the city and the drinks were cold. Dutch ended up driving me home. The cosmopolitans hit me harder than expected. (Oops!)

I know I said I was going to avoid Minneapolis for a while, (at least until I got my mind off 40 Year Old) but free food will entice me anywhere… heck… it could even entice me back to Las Vegas. (But, that’s another story!)

On a side note: I made sure to send a 'thank you' note addressed to both the older gentleman and his significantly younger wife/daughter.

Game 6 and Benedict "Junior"

2005-06-26T17:36:00.000-05:00

I couldn't watch the game. I sat there listening to the commentators, but didn't dare turn around. I was convinced that I'd jinx my boys… my “Bad Boys.”

I walked over to my couch, “Junior” was relaxing, sipping on some ice water and watching the game. He was rooting for the Spurs. (I hate him!)

I’d bitten off most of my finger nails and I just decided to walk away.

“Jane, come sit down on the couch and watch the game with me.” Junior didn’t even turn his head from the TV to tell me this.

“Junior, I can’t! Every time I walk over and check the score the Spurs pull ahead. I can’t do that to Detroit.” I’m not a superstitious person, but for some reason I'm convinced that I'm a bad luck charm. By me watching the game, it will effect whether Chauncy’s three point shot will go in or not. I’m a cursed fan. Every time I watch my team play, they lose!

I don’t think “Junior” minded me leaving the room and typing away on my computer. He was getting annoyed with my high pitched squeals every time Detroit missed a shot.

I yelled into the living room, “Junior, what’s the score?”

“91 to 86, it’s a time out.” He yelled back.

I waited a few seconds, then asked… “Who’s ahead?”

When he shouted back, “Detroit”. I knew my superstitions were not unfounded. I was helping my team by not watching them. I was making a difference… a real difference!

Junior yelled at me again, “Jane, it’s the final minute… you can watch now.” (Secretly I think he wanted me to watch, so that San Antonio would win… he was trying to sabotage the Pistons! He’s a traitor… Junior was born in Detroit!) I couldn't stand it anymore… I had to watch.

The Pistons won that night, but I watched all of game 7 and as a result they lost the series. I'm still not ready to talk about it. I don't know if I ever will be. I haven't talked to Junior since game 6 either.

Junior is my back up boyfriend (of sorts). Whenever either of us don't have a date (or have broken up with a significant other), but feel like going on a date... we give each other a buzz. I can always count on him to come out and listen to live music at a swanky lounge or club. But... my "Bad Boys" come first this time. I will not be speaking to Junior until he apologizes for his act of (Spur) treason.

Leave of Absence

2005-06-20T15:23:00.000-05:00

I am taking a short-term leave of absence from blogging due to the NBA Finals. Updates on my dating adventures will resume after the Pistons defeat the Spurs in game seven. Thank you for your patience and continued support.

Wedding Invite

2005-06-17T16:28:00.000-05:00

A few months ago I was invited to the wedding of an “Old Friend” of mine (who I happened to have a little bit of a history with). The history is sordid and too long to get into, but he called me to ask if I would come. I told him that I would think about it… and I have. I’ve gone back and forth for months as to whether I should make the trek across the country to see my “Old Friend / pseudo-ex-something” get married.

I haven’t seen him for 5 years (partly because of our sordid history). I would love to see him again, but I’ve never been in this situation before. I don’t know how I’ll react seeing someone that I cared so much for get married to someone else.

I also can’t help but think about his fiancé. If I were in her shoes, would I want my future husband’s “pseudo-ex-something” coming to my wedding? (Probably not!) I talked to my “Old Friend” and told him what I was feeling. He told me I was being ridiculous and that he would be hurt if I didn’t come.

“Jane, you’re one of my oldest friends. I want you at my wedding. Everything will be fine, just come.” Then he said: “Would you even bother coming to my funeral?”

I told him, “Yes”.

Then he said, “Well, that is messed up. I would rather have you at my wedding than at my funeral.” (Hmmmm, he had a point.)

I don’t know what to do. I know that whatever we had is long done. We both moved on years ago, but I just don’t know…

I tried to convince “Cali-Goose” to be my date (he’s the best man), but “Cali-G” turned me down… something about how he’s bringing his girlfriend (Grrrr). I asked “Cali-G’s” little brother “Adonis”, but he can’t go, because his modeling career is taking off and he doesn’t have time. “Dutch” can’t come because he’s going to be in Montana. I guess I’ll be going by myself (if I go at all), which is fine… I’ve gotten really good at going stag to weddings (I haven’t had dates for the last 3 weddings I went to).

Puppet Tricks Did The Trick

2005-06-15T23:31:00.000-05:00

I was still moping around because "40 Year Old" had left so unceremoniously. I was going through the motions at work. I needed to get my mind off of things.

A suggestion by Sue my coworker did the trick. We hopped in her car after work and headed to downtown Minneapolis and the Theater District. We parked the car in the ramp, and hustled over to the box office (still in our skirts and heels). We didn’t have tickets and all the shows were either sold out or selling out quickly.

As we crossed Hennepin and started towards the entrance, we passed a man standing outside the restaurant next to the theatre. He was cute with shoulder length brown curly hair. Hmmmm… I thought, (as we eyed each other) that’s strange how he’s just hanging out on the street watching people walk by… like he has no place to go anytime soon.

Sue and I pranced into the box office and nabbed 2 of the last will call tickets for… (giggles, snickers and blushing) the world-renowned performance of… (more giggles, snickers and blushing) "Puppetry of the Penis…the art of genital origami".

Sue and I pranced back across the street to Zeno’s and ordered ourselves Mango Martini’s (Mmmmm…). We sat at the window bar and watched people walk by. (I love people watching.) Then we switched our attention to the cute guy across the street, still standing next to the restaurant, still looking like he had no place to go, still watching people walk by. (Hmmmm…)

It was time for the show to start and we headed back to the theater. The curly-haired cutie had disappeared. (But would reappear shortly… well not too short!) The crowd was lively to say the least. There were approximately 10 men in the crowd compared to 100-120 women. (I wondered, ‘why so few men?")

I really didn’t know what to expect. (The title should have clued me off, but the obvious always has to hit me in the head.) I was naïve enough to think the show would be a little more ‘artful’ than it actually was, but nevertheless… I was fully full frontally entertained! My cheeks and jaw hurt by the end of the show, because I couldn’t stop laughing and because my jaw couldn't stop dropping.

Oh yeah, and the man on the street… well he just happened to be one of the stars of the show! (Mmmmm Hmmmm...)

That theater experience really did do the trick! (Good god!) I didn’t think about "40 Year Old" being gone the entire performance. All I could think about was… how (in the heck) did those two guys twist their junk into a hamburger patty and buns?

But, my bliss was short-lived. As we left the theater, I started thinking to myself. (When was the last time I was here?) Then I remembered… This was the theatre that I came to with "40 Year Old" on our second date. We had gone there for a comedy show last winter. That was the night of our first kiss. (Yes Marvan, I did wait until the second date to kiss him.)

Sue and I stepped to the curb and I looked up and down Hennepin Avenue. (Crap!) Then I thought about Nicollet Avenue. (Crap! Crap!) Then I thought about Uptown. (Crap! Crap! Crap!) I’ve been to nearly half the restaurants, pubs and cocktail bars in the downtown with "40 Year Old". Not to mention every place and any place fun near Calhoun Square. I was reminded of him everywhere in Minneapolis. (Crap!)

I had to shake this. I had to stop being so emotional. (Stop it Jane!) I couldn’t avoid these places, just because I had so many recent memories at them with him. (Suck it up Jane! Quit being a sentimental whiner!)

Then I remembered the nice part about living in the Twin Cities. When Minneapolis isn’t working for you (or you just need to get away from it for a while). You simply cross the Mississippi and hang out in St. Paul (just until the memories aren’t so fresh). Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. (I need to get that old fart off my mind.) That's what I'm going to do... I'm staying in St. Paul!

On a side note: I’m not sure if I would recommend the show. "Marvan", I know you wanted to know how it was. (Ha ha… you’re a Curious George!) Well, to be honest, I’m still a little traumatized by those ‘tastefully artful’ peckers twisting, spinning and flying around the stage (shaped like different critters). I’ll let you know if it was worth it… in a few days… when the shock wears off.

Half Broken Heart

2005-06-14T11:11:00.000-05:00

I think I may be suffering from a half broken heart. I didn’t break the entire thing (I wouldn’t let that happen… that’s too messy and obnoxious), but I definitely broke at least a small piece of it… and maybe up to half. Enough to make it hurt and enough to make it hard to breathe for a few hours.

“40 Year Old” moved away.

I had sent an email to “40 Year Old” earlier in the morning. It was his first day on the new job. It was a quick note wishing him luck and asking him when his last official day in Minnesota was. I was burning CDs at Dutch’s apartment in the evening, when "40 Year Old" emailed me back.

“Hey Sweetheart, Thanks for the note. I absolutely love the new job. Everyone has been awesome. I can see myself at this place for a long time. (His enthusiasm was apparent.) My plans have changed a bit. I guess I’ve already had my last official day in Minnesota. (Did he say already?) I arranged for the moving company to pack and move all my things today. I rented my place out to my old coworker and he moved in this afternoon. I’ll be back this some weekend later this month, but I’m not sure when. I still have a few things to wrap up with my house. Take care and I’ll talk to you later. – 40 Year Old”

I choked when I read this. I wasn’t ready to hear that. (I held back any tears… I didn’t want Dutch to see, but I think he knew something was wrong.)

Had I known that when I dropped “40 Year Old” off at the airport last week, that it would be the last time I saw him… I would have held on a little tighter and longer when we hugged… I would have kissed him a little softer and longer… I would have… I don’t know… I just wish I had known.

It hadn’t set in until that moment that he was really leaving. He’s already gone. Yes, he said he was stopping back in the next few weeks, but I don’t think I want to see him. I’m not going to call. I don’t want this to hurt anymore than it already does. I don’t want him to see that this hurts me. (This is ridiculous! I've only known this man 4 1/2 months! I hate feeling this way!)

Dutch walked back in the room. (He knew something was wrong, but didn’t ask… he didn’t have to.) He walked up behind me. (I quickly closed my email and pretended to be busy picking out more songs to burn.)

“Here Janie, listen to some Beyonce… it’ll make you feel better.” (He put the headset over my ears and turned up the volume.)

I looked at him and shook my head, “You’re a weirdo Dutch… Thanks.” We both started laughing. I finished burning my songs and we went out for dinner.

Recycling Freud

2005-06-10T12:28:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to think that some people are made of recyclable material. These people keep recycling themselves through my life. I try and get rid of them (in an environmentally conscious manner), but they keep coming back. First it was "Creepy John". Now it is "Eugenio". I just received an email from him. (The email he promised me two weeks ago during our volatile conversation over instant messenger.) I hope you all enjoy it:

"Hey Jane, What's up, yo? Just wanted to send you the email that I promised. Sorry if I annoyed you the last time we spoke. That wasn't my intent. This email may annoy you too, but I don't care. Take it for what it's worth.

I should have played it cool with you, but you're so anti-mind games. I figured it was kosher for me to be honest with you. I normally get bored with girls and lose interest in them quickly. It was nice to actually have a crush on someone for once. I got ahead of myself. I am a romantic type of guy and I don't like to suppress feelings when it comes to girls. That being said, I don't really think anyone would categorize me as being an emotional or high-maintenance person. Maybe I over analyze or over think things, but then again you claim to do the same. So I thought maybe you would understand.

Anyway, I sure have learned my lesson in regards to dealing with intimacy or commitment phobes! For the record, I don't think you are a rude b*tch. When I said that I read between the lines, I meant that if you really were a mean person; I would have noticed it much earlier. I figure your reaction was just your defense mechanism for dealing with emotion. You try to drive people away and youre pretty effective at it. Even though I don't buy your fake animosity towards me, I still don't want to deal with it.

It's all cool though, I'm not mad or upset with you. I certainly don't harbor any hard feelings. It was fun while it lasted and reminded me that there are definitely girls out here who can still pique my interest. I still think you'e pretty rad and even though I'm not interested in dating, if you ever want to hang out, you know how to reach me.

We do have a good time when we're face-to-face, after all. The ball is in your court.

-Eugenio"

Wow Sigmund, you've really got me figured out (sarcastic tone). After those 4 dates and 2 kisses my defense mechanisms kicked in. I sensed that Eugenio was getting too close emotionally. He was starting to tap into the deep recesses of my soul and know the "real Jane". So naturally, my subconscious reacted and made me behave in a way that pushed him away. (He really hit the nail on the head!)

When I received the email, I quickly scanned through it (chuckled) and didn't pay much attention to it. I forwarded it to "Bridget" and "Austin HP" to let them have a crack at decoding the purpose of this correspondence. Their responses were almost identical. They both thought it was contrived, like he was censoring himself (which he should have done that last time we talked). They thought he was trying to push my bottons by calling me a committment phobic (although it's already a consensus among my friends that I am) in an attempt to get me to respond to him.

Austin HP was concerned (as he usually is) and emailed me, "Jane, this guy is warped. He honestly thinks that if he can just get you to spend a little more time with him, that he can win you over. Don't respond to this!" Bridget concurred and said, "I think he's playing hard to get. He thinks that you're the type of girl that likes a challenge and by telling you that he isn't interested. He's hoping reverse psychology will do it's magic and make you want him as much as he wants you." (Ick! Yes, I like a challenge just as much as the next gal, but the challenge with this situation, is how to get him to forget me.)

Well, I've spent enough time thinking, writing and talking about this already. "Dutch" is waiting for me to finish typing so we can walk to DQ. (MMmmmm... nothing get's my mind off of things better than ice cream. Dairy Queen here I come!)

Red-Eye Rendezvous

2005-06-08T12:37:00.000-05:00

I received a phone call yesterday evening around 8:30 p.m. It was “40 Year Old”.

“Hey Jane, I was wondering if you were available later this evening to grab a drink and then possibly… if you could find it in your giant heart… possibly drop me off at the airport for a red-eye flight?” Of course I told him yes.

I headed on over to his house, let myself in and walked into his office. He was trying to pay his bills by phone and had his speakerphone on. This is the conversation I had the pleasure of listening to.

Xcel Energy Recording: “To pay your bill by phone, please say, ‘Pay bill by phone.’”
40 Year Old: “Pay bill by phone.”
Xcel Energy Recording: “Did you say, ‘Pay bill by phone?’”
40 Year Old: “Yes.”
Xcel Energy Recording: “I’m sorry I did not hear you correctly. Did you say, ‘yes?’”?
40 Year Old: “Yes.”
Xcel Energy Recording: “Thank you. To pay your bill by phone, using a credit card,
please say, ‘Pay with my credit card.’”
40 Year Old: “Pay with my credit card.”
Xcel Energy Recording: “Did you say, ‘Pay with my credit card?”
40 Year Old: “Yes.”
Xcel Energy Recording: “I’m sorry I did not hear you correctly. Did you say, ‘yes?’”
40 Year Old: “Yes.” (with his voice getting louder and more deliberate)
Xcel Energy Recording: “I’m sorry I did not hear you correctly. Did you say, ‘yes?’”
40 Year Old: “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Xcel Energy Recording: "Thank you for using Xcel Energy. Have a nice day." (click and dial tone)
40 Year Old: “Nooooooooooo!” (with a few expletives)

I sat quietly in the next room listening to him and watching the lightening storm outside. It was taking everything I had not to laugh. He dialed again.

Xcel Energy Recording: “Thank you for calling Xcel Energy. Please enter your 10 digit account number.” (I heard 40 Year Old enter a series of numbers.) “Did you enter (the recording read back his account number), please say yes or no.”
40 Year Old: “Yes!” (He muttered some more curse words under his breath.)
Xcel Energy Recording: "I’m sorry, I did not hear you correctly. Did you say ‘yes’?”
40 Year Old: “Yes!” (He was ready to explode.)
Xcel Energy Recording: “Thank you. To pay your bill by phone, please say, ‘Pay bill by phone.’”
40 Year Old: “Pay bill by phone. You dumb bi*ch!”
Excel Energy Recording: “Thank you for calling Excel Energy. Good bye.” (I heard a click and then the dial tone came on again.)
40 Year Old: “Aaaahhhhhhhh!!!”

He had reached his limit and continued to curse. I was laughing so hard that I spit out of my nose. (Nothing is more entertaining to me than to see a grown professional man crumble under the pressure of trying to complete the simplest of tasks.)

“Um, '40 Year Old', have you ever thought about paying your bills online?”

“Jane, I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay, I was just making a suggestion...”

He made one more attempt to pay his bill by phone. I had to leave the room I was laughing so hard. When he failed again… he walked into the living room.

“Um, can you help me pay my bill online?” He had calmed down a bit.

“Sure.” I said, as I lead him by the hand back to his office.

We got the rest of his bills paid; finished organizing and putting his presentation into binders; and we packed his suitcase. He turned to me as we loaded up my car with his luggage, “Jane, you’re going to make someone a wonderful wife someday.” I looked at him and rolled my eyes. (Why do men say stupid things like that? Why!) I wanted to kick him, but instead I ignored the comment. (What sort of response was he looking for from me?)

I drove him to the airport. He was cutting it close. He gave me a kiss in the car and said, “I’m really going to miss you Jane.”

I kissed him back, “I’m going to miss you to, but I’m not going to let you know how much.” I waved him on and drove off. He just barely caught his flight.

Going "Dutch"

2005-06-07T20:30:00.000-05:00

Will the drama in my life ever end? Not anytime soon. Last Thursday night I was driving home from my part time job. I was stopped at a red light, when a minivan plowed into the back of my car. I was jerked forward and my car was pushed through the intersection (even though my foot was firmly planted on the brake). I was dazed to say the least. The police showed up and offered to call an ambulance. I declined the offer, but by the time the police had left the scene I was having trouble focusing my eyes and I had a splitting headache. I decided to drive myself to the emergency room. (Actually, it took a lot of convincing via cell phone by both Marvan and Bridget, to get me to drive there.)

Having to go to the emergency room is an awful experience. However, having to go to the emergency room by yourself is even worse! As I sat there… by myself, with my head aching… I started to have a pity party. (And no Marvan… you weren’t invited:)

I was all alone in this big city (these big cities if you want to be technical). All of my family lived out of state; many of my closest friends moved away after graduation; and I didn’t have a boyfriend! I’ve never been the kind of girl that “had to be in a relationship”; in fact my relationship track record is scant to say the least. But at that moment in my life, I thought to myself…this would be an ideal time to have a boyfriend. I got a lump in my throat (my pity party was turning into a full on bash).

My cell phone rang… it was Bridget, she was calling back to make sure I got to he hospital all right. “How’re you feeling pumpkin?”

I tried to hide the lump in my throat, “I’m okay… Um, I’m a little shaken up and my head hurts, but I’m okay…”

“Well it’s your own fault dipsh*t… you should have been wearing your seat belt.” (Oh by the way… I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.) Within a matter of seconds Bridget had single handedly busted up my pity party.

Then Bridget made me feel better, she said, “Where’s Dutch? How are you getting home if they don’t let you drive?”

“Dutch” is one of my closest friends. We go all the way back to high school. Hhhmmm, Bridget had a point… I had no way of getting home.

I responded, “Well, I haven’t called Dutch, because he has to work tomorrow and he’s probably already asleep.” (I have deep psychological issues with asking people to help me… it’s a long story.)

“Jane, you need to call Dutch right now! He would want to know if you’re waiting in the E.R. by yourself. I’m hanging up and you’re calling him!”

I dialed Dutch’s number. He was there in less than 20 minutes and stayed with me until 3:30 a.m. Then he took me to Perkins for breakfast. We talked, ate and joked around making up fake diagnoses for my injuries (shaken brain syndrome). He dropped me off at my apartment (which is less than a quarter mile from his).

I gave him a hug, “Thanks for hanging out at the E.R. with me. I’m really sorry that it ruined your night, but I really appreciated it.”

“Jane, stop being ridiculous… it didn’t ruin my night and I didn’t mind at all. The nurses in your room were really hot! You know you should definitely go back there if you feel any residual effects from the accident. I’ll definitely come with!” We both laughed.

“You’ll be the first person I call Dutch.”

That night I had an epiphany. Dating is for the birds! (But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop anytime soon.) Boy Friends blah, they come and go! However, Best Friends… well, Best Friends are something special. They’re your surrogate family… they fill the role of Husband, Wife, Mother, Father, Brother and Sister. That’s a huge responsibility and the good ones always seem to rise to the occasion. (Thank God!)

The Much Anticipated Return of ... "Creepy John"

2005-06-01T20:25:00.000-05:00

I had a wonderful time visiting my family last weekend. However, my cell phone kept acting up throughout the trip. It would shut off for no reason without my realizing it. I went hours at a time with my phone turned off completely. (Heaven forbid!) Little did I realize that this minor inconvenience would save me from inadvertently answering an incoming call from none other than... (Doo doo doo ... *dramatic music*) "CREEPY JOHN"!

He left the following voicemail: "Jane, hi this 'John'. I would like to talk to you. Please give me a call." I bet you are all wondering what he wants. Well, guess what... none of us will ever know, because there is NO WAY I am calling him back. (Not even for the sake of my curiosity driven readers.)

But, this is the theory that my warped and paranoid mind came up with to explain "John's" untimely call. I think that "Darin" really was a spy. However, he switched over to my side when he thought there was a chance I would go out with him. Once I dashed his hopes of a date by not returning 2 consecutive emails... he switched back over into spy mode and reported to his evil commander "Creepy John" the content of our conversations... namely the email in which I divulged the details of my date with 'John'. 'John' having read the email which elaborated on my utter disdain for him, decided to call me to clear things up. (What do you all think of my theory?)

To Hold... But Not To Have

2005-05-27T19:54:00.000-05:00

I arrived at "40 Year Old’s" home Sunday evening. (The Sunday I was supposed to call "Eugenio" back to reschedule our cancelled Saturday night date.) "40 Year Old" and I were off to see a movie… Star Wars - Revenge of the Sith. I rang his doorbell once and walked in (old habits die hard). He yelled from upstairs in his best falsetto girl’s voice, “Who is it?” (As if he didn't know.) I yelled back in my best gruff man voice, “It’s me!” We both laughed.

I bounced up the stairs and was greeted by oodles of affection. (Where were these hugs and nuzzles coming from?) We chatted a bit and caught up on things. It had been weeks since we last saw each other. At least it felt like it had been weeks.

He poured me a drink and told me how he had visited with the couple that originally set us up on a date. He told me that our mutual friend had given him a hard time for “messing things up” with me. She told him, “40 Year Old, I set you up with the best girl I know and you blew it!” I laughed at him and said, “You sure did!”

“40 Year Old” scooted up next to me and put his arms around my waist. “Jane, you are the best girl I know… and I want you to know that if it weren’t for me moving, I really would pursue something more serious with you.” (Hmmm that’s not hard to say when you know that you aren’t sticking around, but it was a nice gesture on his part nonetheless.)

We had a great evening out. We played arcade games before the movie started. (He’s the first person to ever beat me playing Area 51.) He ate all the popcorn, so I refused to share my Reese’s Pieces with him. Then he spilled my frozen cherry drink down the front of his white shirt. He fell asleep three times and I fell asleep once. (It was a really long movie.)

It was strange, before he fell asleep (the first time); he reached over and held my hand. I’m not sure if the reason it felt so odd was because I am NOT a hand holder or whether it felt odd, because I didn’t mind…

Oh Yeah, Remember "Darin"

2005-05-26T20:13:00.000-05:00

A trivial update: I hadn't responded to "Darin's" last email to me, because I had decided to go on Dating Sabbatical. To be honest, I was so busy these past few weeks... I forgot about him. Apparently he was away traveling on business, but Tuesday (the day I cancelled on "Eugenio" the second time and went to a happy hour with my friends) "Darin" emailed me again. He said he was back in town and wondered if I was still up for grabbing dinner. I never responded, actually... I just plain forgot (because I was too busy dealing the "Eugenio" drama).

A Jedi Master Become, Eugenio Shall Not!

2005-05-26T12:11:00.000-05:00

Some background information before the story can unfold completely: I didn’t call “Eugenio” back on Sunday as I had promised. I didn’t have time and I actually forgot. (I know none of you are surprised at that.) He called me around 4 p.m. and left a voicemail, “Jane, hey this is Eugenio. Um, yeah… I really think we need to talk.”

I thought to myself, that’s funny… I don’t have anything in particular that I need to talk to him about. I guess it will have to wait until Monday, because I’m busy right now. I didn’t call him back. (Honestly, I was still a little weirded out that he had stopped by my work without warning on Friday night.) Instead I met up with “40 Year Old”. I will detail that date in my next posting, but this posting is dedicated exclusively to “Eugenio”.

I came into work on Monday and “Eugenio” instant messaged me. I apologized for not calling and explained that my Sunday was extremely busy and I didn’t have time. (He still hadn’t seemed to grasp the extent of my business. He wasn’t my only commitment.) He seemed fine with my explanation, but immediately wanted to know when we could see each other next. I told him the only day that could possibly work was Tuesday evening. He told me that he had Frisbee that night, but that he would leave right after to meet me. That worked out perfect, because I had a happy hour that I wanted to attend with some old co-workers. (I hadn’t seen them since last fall.) Actually, even though it worked out fine… I wasn’t feeling “Eugenio” at all anymore. He seemed whiney and needy. I wasn’t looking forward to our “date”, but he sure was. He told me in an email on Tuesday, “Jane, I’m really looking forward to seeing you tonight. See you later Cutie Pie.” (Gross, please don’t refer to me as a piece of food… I didn’t want to be anywhere near his mouth.)

The plan was to meet up around 9:00 p.m. Well, the happy hour with my old co-workers was a riot. The happy hour was late getting started and I could tell it was going last a while. I told my friends that I had to get going, but they used their peer pressure to convince me to stick around and hang out with them. (I caved.)

I called “Eugenio” at 7:45 and left the following message, “Hey, I feel really bad saying this, but I really want to hang out with my friends. We got a late start and I haven’t seen them since Sept. I was wondering if we could reschedule?” I told him to go ahead and go out with his friends after Frisbee. (Yes, I cancelled again!) I felt so relieved.

“Eugenio” called back and left a message. I can’t remember exactly what it said, but I know he wasn’t happy and that we’d talk about it tomorrow. (I didn’t realize what I was in for.)

Now the story really begins. The following is an ACTUAL transcript of the conversation that took place between us over Instant Messenger. Enjoy!

Eugenio says:
hello
Jane says:
hey
Eugenio says:
So, tell me what’s going on?
Jane says:
Eugenio... my life is extremely complicated right now. I have a billion things flying through my head.
Eugenio says:
I'm not trying to make your life more complicated. Maybe I am complicating things... but not intentionally
I dont need a lot, you know. I am not high maintenance. I feel like you've treated me really poorly blowing me off a few times in the past 4 days and it's really just hurtful. And if you want to get rid of me I can think of more civilized ways to do it.
Jane says:
I know that you want to pursue a dating relationship with me, but I can't give you that... I don't even have time for myself.
Eugenio says:
But if that is not the case then please we just need to talk.
Jane says:
I admit that I blew you off last night. My friends and I were all running late. I hadn't seen them since Sept. and I wanted to catch up.
Eugenio says:
That's fine...
Jane says:
But Saturday night I was exhausted. I'd worked a double shift Friday night, ran myself ragged from
8:30 Sat. morning until 2 p.m. running errands... and then worked 8 hours at my retail job.
Eugenio says:
Yeah I believe it.
Jane says:
I looked terrible and felt terrible and then I got a call from my mom and had some important things to talk to her about on the phone. Can’t you understand that?
Eugenio says:
It's not even that, I understand you're busy. I am busy too... And I know last night was a hard situation.
Jane says:
No... I am beyond busy. The last 2 weeks of my life have been a circus.
Eugenio says:
I kinda got that feeling. And whether or not you believe it, I am OK with that…
Jane says:
Professionally, with my Family, with my friends. I have too much going on.
Eugenio says:
But you have to understand that you don’t seem to be very good at understanding how what you say and do is interpreted by other people, or how it makes them feel. The cumulative effect of Saturday night, then not calling me on Sunday when you said you would, and then blowing me off last night. It is hurtful. If you were any other girl, I wouldn’t bother.
Jane says:
So why are you bothering?
Eugenio says:
I honestly don’t think you're trying to be mean on purpose. I mean correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I “get” you a little bit and I understand a little of how your mind works. So, I am willing to be put on the back burner. I am patient...understanding. If it's truly just a bad time right now, I understand. If that isn’t the case and it is the “weirdness” you felt the other night when we kissed, or if it's because you're not interested in me, then just be up front about it!
Jane says:
You deserve more than I can give you.
Eugenio says:
bah!
Jane says:
You're a great guy.
Eugenio says:
You let me make the decision about what I deserve… and how much I am willing to put up with. So the bottom line is… Is this a time/life/circumstance issue between us, or is it that you just aren’t that into me?
Eugenio says:
? Well ?
Jane says:
Listen, we've been on 4 dates. We are still getting to know each other. I feel like you've jumped into this and are trying to force it. You claim you aren't high maintenance, but it sure feels like it. I have to go to a meeting right now. We can talk about this more this afternoon.
Eugenio says:
Ugh... you're right... let's talk this afternoon.

(Pause from this conversation… I was really annoyed at this point in the conversation. I was at work and he was really disrupting me. However, I wanted to nip this situation in the bud… so I picked up the conversation towards the end of the day. It starts to get really weird!)

Eugenio says:
So can I call you for a few minutes? Its easier over the phone I think.
Jane says:
Honestly, no… I'm piling through reports in between typing and reading.
Eugenio says:
Ok, well I'll do my best writing then. Basically, you are right. I have been forcing things, or trying to (unsuccessfully). But it's pretty simple... It's just been a while since I've seen potential...most girls are boring or uninteresting or unchallenging. You are all of those things! I just got a bit excited… er…wait… You’re NOT any of those things, is what I mean. It wasn’t even about you so much as I got excited about the concept… the hope. To be honest on Sunday I went through a John Favreau 'Swingers' moment and what I ended up doing was just writing down all this crap that was swimming in my head. I put it into a letter which I never intend to send. Anyway, it helped me refocus and regain my perspective. That is what I was going to talk with you about on Tuesday. I know I haven’t even been myself and it's just been very strange. I can understand I've been giving off vibes like I am diving in head first and sort of over-eager. But, in reality that's not how I am, you just had me twisted up and I needed to un-twist a bit. I needed to regain my composure and realize what was going on. I don’t know if that makes sense.
Jane says:
The last few relationships and dating situations I've been in... were with people whose calendars were as crammed as mine. I was flexible with last minute changes and they were flexible with last minute changes. You have to have everything planned out. You are a big talker and feel neglected if someone doesn’t have time to engage in a conversation with you. I'm not a phone talker… unless I have something important to say.
Eugenio says:
I'm not either! Honestly, I am super busy. It’s just starting to gear up. Listen, the schedule does not bother me one bit. It’s just uncertainty that got to me… We all have our little foibles and I just got wound up a bit.
Jane says:
Eugenio... I don't think we "work" in a dating sense.
Eugenio says:
Well, I think we do pretty well. What hasn’t been working besides my eagerness? I mean we've had a good times, right? When we're actually face to face.
Jane says:
Yes I have a good time with you, but you became insecure and uncertain before there was a chance for anything to even become certain... 2 weeks?
Eugenio says:
I appreciate the candor, even if it won’t change anything.
Jane says:
I feel like there is a lot of nonsense inbetween our face to face meetings and that is starting to bother me.
Eugenio says:
Ah you misinterpret. You see I totally feel the same way! All this time people have been asking me... I mean my friends have been asking me… ‘Tell me about Jane, tell me how it’s going!’ I say to them, ‘Well, it's great when we're face to face, we have a good time and things feel good... but when we're not in front of each other it's all weird.’ That’s the truth! The thing about it is, the weirdness in between just made me feel uncertain, that's all. And I didn’t know how to interpret it, or deal with it. I guess I overanalyze everything.
Jane says:
Eugenio, stop typing for a second! Let me get a word in. I can barely keep up with your thoughts.
Eugenio says:
So things were just screwed up in my head until Sunday. Then I was able to regain my clarity and realized that… it's been 5 dates. Why do I care? I just need to relax with what I have with you. If it happens it happens. Okay?
Jane says:
It’s only been 4 dates.
Eugenio says:
4 dates...5 dates... It hasn’t been enough for me to start acting like a retard. That’s my point.
Jane says:
Eugenio. You are an emotional man... that isn't a bad thing... but I am your polar opposite.
Eugenio says:
I'm not really an emotional man. I'm the king of compartmentalization.
Jane says:
I beg to differ... are you reading anything that you just wrote for the past 10 minutes?
Eugenio says:
I get yelled at for not being emotional enough all the damn time! What I’m expressing now isn’t emotion. It’s just me explaining what’s going on in my head when I was acting all weird with you. But then I came to the conclusion that it was insane. In any case if you have a great time with me then you can afford to see me again. I'm going to be myself from now on and if it's no good then so be it! But there's no harm in it. Relax Jane, life is beautiful, right? Give me another chance and if it sucks then we're no worse off. But, first thing to do is to get rid of Instant Messenger. I don’t think it's doing us any good.
Eugenio says:
Yo Jane! Are you there? Pay attention ADD! Ha ha.
Jane says:
Eugenio... this is just too much drama for me.
Eugenio says:
Jane? Um, but I’m not a dramatic person… there is no drama here. It's all just miscommunication.
Jane says:
I don't have the time or energy to deal with this.
Eugenio says:
Honestly, there's no drama. It's the Internet. I just think you can’t understand my ‘tone’. Besides, like I said, what's the big deal? Give the kid another chance? Listen…go on vacation, we'll talk when you get back. Remember… it’s not a big deal.
Jane says:
You're right it isn't a big deal, but you have blown it into one!
Eugenio says:
I certainly haven’t! What did you think was going to happen? If you say you're going to call someone and then don’t...and then make plans and break them short notice? How was I supposed to interpret that? Of course I thought it was a big deal, like you weren’t interested in me. You made it into an issue. I was ready to just cool my jets and have a fun night. But honestly it was pretty rude and what you did sucked. But what I'm saying is who cares? I don’t give up so easily on anything, and I think that if we can actually sit down and address this like people do, maybe it won’t seem so dramatic. So just have fun with your family this weekend and we'll talk when you get back. What's the harm in that? Just say you'll think about it so I can go home please!
Jane says:
Eugenio... I'm a rude bi*ch... the question is... why do you want to date a rude bi*ch?
Eugenio says:
I don’t think you're a rude bi*ch. Remember the first thing about me Jane… I read between the lines.
Jane says:
There is nothing to read between the lines. You're really annoying me right now...
Eugenio says:
It won’t work.
Jane says:
I don't have the time or energy to deal with this. Any desire I had to date you... is fading extremely quickly.
Eugenio says:
Speaking of drama! What the hell is so frustrating?
Jane says:
I need to go. I'm really tired of this conversation.
Eugenio says:
So that's it then?
Jane says:
Please... it's obvious from this conversation that we're in different places.
Eugenio says:
Listen up, you're being really dramatic right now. I don’t like it. I will email you next week and maybe you'll be calmed down or whatever. If you don’t reply, that's fine. I don’t care, you're a great girl but obviously something is going on with you! I've never been anything but nice to you and I surely don’t deserve to be treated like I'm not even worth a phone call. So have a great vacation. Bye. If I had a door right now I'd *expletive* slam that sh*t real hard. Then stomp around, but then I'd laugh because drama is silly and I'm just having fun.

I never responded… there was nothing to more to say. ("Eugenio" is crazy!) I didn’t want to touch that situation with a ten-foot pole.

But, I would like to take a few moments to put all these thoughts that are swimming around in my head down on paper. This will help me regain my perspective on this (borderline psychotic) situation. I just need to write this crap down in a letter to "Eugenio" which I never intend on sending to him! (Aaaaahhhhh!) So here it goes:

“Eugenio, you foolish Jedi Apprentice… until you learn to master your feelings and take control of your emotions you will never become a Jedi Master (bummer!). You must learn to let go of your emotion and fear, because fear leads to anger and anger leads to the 'dark side' (but apparently you've already tapped into that). You need to let go of all of any attachments that may lead you to fear and therefore anger (namely me... Please forget you ever met me!). Otherwise, my Youngling Jedi Knight you will end up writing down every tedious thought that runs through your warped brain and will foolishly share it on Instant Messenger. This rash behavior will reveal to the world that you are not a Jedi at all, but simply a cross between Woody Allen and David Koresh! You must learn to bring balance to the competing forces (I mean voices...) in your head! May the force be with you. - Jane"

Trouble With "The Talk"

2005-05-22T13:49:00.000-05:00

My Thursday night date with "Eugenio" didn't go as well as I had hoped. We went to dinner and the topic of our conversation immediately became "me". He kept telling me that I was mysterious and that he was very intrigued with me. I told him my life was an open book and that whatever questions he had about me I would answer them honestly.

On a side note: As cool as "Eugenio" is, the more I hang out with him, the more annoyed I get with him. These are the reasons: 1. I feel like he puts me up on a pedestal. I don't think he really wants to get to know "me", because then I won't be 'perfect' in his mind anymore. That bothers me. 2. Every time we end a date, he wants to know when he can see me again. When I tell him I don't know and that I have to check my daytimer, he seems irritated. He doesn't understand that I have an extremely busy schedule. I've got two jobs, other friends that I have standing plans with, and I have a regular schedule at the gym that I am unwilling to give up. (Ever since my first sabbatical, the gym has become a priority over boys.) 3. He calls me almost every day, in addition to the instant messages he sends me at work and the emails he sends. He also stopped by my retail job unexpectedly... to surprise me. (That weirded me out a little.)

Back to the story: After my invitation for him to ask me anything "Eugenio" began with, "Jane, sometimes I wonder whether you even think about me, if I'm not standing directly in front of you. Do you think about me during the day?" (Hhhmmmmm, how do I answer this one?)

I paused for a good 20 seconds before I answered and said, "Yes." I was getting nervous waiting for his next question.

"Well Jane, I was talking to my friends about this (Oh no, I hate sentences that start like this!) and I told them how every date with you feels like a first date, because it takes a while for you to warm up to me. I just don't know where I stand with you and I have to be honest with you. I'm somewhat smitten with you. "

I had to pull out the big guns. This was our 4th date and I needed to have "the talk" with him. "Eugenio, if you really want to know everything that's going on in my life, I will tell you. Do you really want to know? "

He answered, "I'm not sure, now."

"Well Eugenio, I'm going to tell you anyway so you know where you stand with me. Do you remember back when I told you why I didn't call you the first time you asked me out... because I was seeing someone? "(For your background information: He had asked me out the first time and I never called him back because I was in a relationship with "40 Year Old". The second time he asked me out I was ending the relationship with "40 Year Old" and I emailed him shortly after. I had told him in one of our first emails that the reason I never called him the first time was because I was dating someone else.)

Eugenio nodded his head slowly up and down. "Eugenio, I still talk with that guy periodically. We aren't dating, but we do still talk. That's one of the things that has been distracting me from you."

He looked at me and said, "I thought you had made that story up about seeing someone else, so that I wouldn't feel bad about you not calling me back after asking you out."

I nodded my head slowly back and forth, "No, that was the truth." Eugenio wasn't enjoying this conversation, but he needed to hear it. "Eugenio, I don't know how I feel about you. I'm not sure if I'm feeling 'it'. (This is so hard to say and so hard to say nicely.) I need to think about this. I have a lot of things going on with my job and my life right now. (which are part of the reason I have had to take a long-term sabbatical from dating, but the details are too long and boring to post on this blog.) My plans are extremely uncertain at this point. I just need some time to think. Is that okay?"

I thought he got it, but later on it became clear to me that he didn't. My little speech only made him want to "help me through this hard time". He seemed to think I needed rescuing. We were supposed to hang out last night with some of his friends. I was so exhausted from working all day that I called him and cancelled. (I just wanted to go to bed.) He wanted to reschedule that moment. I told him I would call him on Sunday to reschedule.

Glancing at my calendar... it doesn't look like I'll be able to fit him in until after Memorial Day. (I'm taking a much needed vacation and going home to visit my family.)

Farewell "40 Year Old"

2005-05-19T20:41:00.000-05:00

It had been a full week since I last heard from "40 Year Old". I knew he was traveling and my expectations in him had remained low since we stopped dating. I woke up this morning and something in my gut told me that I would hear from him today. (My psychic powers perhaps?)

By 11:00 a.m. I had received an email from him. "Jane, Hey what are you doing today? Want to skip out on work this afternoon and go for a walk around the lake with me? -40 Year Old... p.s. I received the job offer in Boston. I'm leaving in 4 - 6 weeks."

Well, I knew this day would come. It's for the best. I needed some definite closure on this situation and I finally got it. I emailed a message back, "Dear 40 Year Old, I'm so happy for you. This is a fantastic opportunity. You're going to do great! I can't hang out this afternoon. I have too much going on at work, I won't be able to take the afternoon off. I'm really glad I got to meet you and had the chance to know you a little. Best wishes. -Jane"

I thought I had gotten the last word in. My brief and professional email sealed the deal. I had made a clean break from the situation (or had I?).

Within minutes I received another email. "Dearest Jane, 'Best wishes'? Is that the best you can do? I think we spent enough time together that you can say you got to know me more than a 'little'. I want to go out and celebrate my new job. I'm taking you out to dinner Sunday night. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Meet me at my place at 6:00 p.m. Admirably and Affectionately Yours, -40 Year Old"

I emailed him back, "See you Sunday. -Jane" (I couldn't say no, but even if I had said no, you read his email... he wouldn't have accepted my rejection.)

Suffering From Dating Exhaustion

2005-05-17T15:40:00.000-05:00

As many of you are aware; I have been losing some steam with my frantic dating pace. I’m pooped! Trying to coordinate schedules, trying to remember people’s names (I’ve almost slipped up a few times and started to call them by their blog names). I'm annoyed and tired of sharing my time. I woke up yesterday morning convinced that I needed to take a break. If I don’t, I’ll risk becoming a jaded and bitter dater.

I’m going out with “Eugenio” tomorrow. I’m going to talk to him and let him know that as much as like hanging out with him, I can’t offer him more than friendship. (It’s me not him… blah blah blah) I don’t plan on telling him the whole truth… which is “I’m tired and bored of dating.” Instead, I’m going to explain to him that I have some things I need to figure out. (Which if you think about it… is the honest truth! I need to figure out why I attract some of these guys.)

I stopped emailing with “Darin”. I’m going to step back from that situation and let it go. But, if he tries to contact me again, I will definitely let you all know.

I’ve had some great conversations with many of my readers over the past few days:

“The Little Prince” thinks I need to be more protective of my time and more discriminate in my dating choices. His exact words: “Seriously Jane, This whole "give everyone a chance" theory that you have is rubbish with regard to dating.”

“The Little Prince” was actually in attendance at the event where I was introduced to “Creepy John” and “Mr. Personality”. He watched the entire saga unfold. This was his assessment of the situation, “Jane, I could have told you “Creepy John” was creepy the night you met him and “Mr. Personality” stands for “Mr. Poser”… straight up!” (Little Prince, I agree with you… even though sometimes I feel like you are way up high on your own planet looking down at the rest of us… while you attempt to catch shooting stars in your hand… and sail away with them through the sky.)

“Cali-Goose” (formerly referred to as Hermosa Beach) thinks I’m a dumbass and too nice to these guys (except he used expletives). I disagree with his first comment, but concur with the second. “Cali-Goose” seems to think I won’t stick with my commitment not to date… at least not for more than a few weeks. (This time I swear I’m really going to try to stick to it… at least until the next really cool guy asks me out… hee hee.)

One of my newest readers is a man I dated a few years ago. His comment to me was: “Jane, I am so glad you weren’t writing this website when we were dating.” Then he added, “Would you have given me a cool name? What would my name have been?” I told him he would have been called “Mr. Full of Himself”. He liked that!

So, I guess this post is my official announcement that I’M GOING ON A LONG TERM DATING SABBATICAL (FYI “long term” means a month or two). I promise I will continue to post updates if anything new happens with “40 Year Old”, “Creepy John” or “Darin”, but not with “Eugenio”. He’s a great guy. I don’t want him subjected anymore to the scrutiny of this website. (He deserves better than me.)

This website is now (for the period of my dating sabbatical) dedicated to documenting funny stories of “Jane” turning down dates (with my own personal comments). I hope you enjoy these stories just as much!

Eugenio-A-No-Go

2005-05-15T19:53:00.000-05:00

After the softball game on Friday night, I went to Eugenio's house for the party. He has a great group of friends and we all had a fantastic time. Around 12:30 everyone started to gather their things and head out... including myself. Eugenio asked me to hang out a little longer. I told him it was getting late and that I had to work tomorrow morning. He asked me again to stay just a little longer. I agreed.

I'm sure you all can guess what happened. I thanked him for a nice evening and blah blah blah... I hemmed and hawed (I think that's the expression?). Then he came in for the kiss.

I know what you're all thinking. I should have talked with him. I should have told him that I didn't know how I felt about him and that I'm not sure if a dating relationship was the type of relationship I wanted to pursue with him. But honestly, I never had the opportunity to bring up the subject prior to that moment.

I considered our first 2 dates as "getting to know each other" dates (so the subject never came up). This third date (I'm not sure you can call it that) was a group activity followed by another group activity followed by a good night kiss. The opportunity never came up!

Anyway, the kiss was fine. He was a gentleman. But did I feel anything? Unfortunately no.

Here is the question I want to ask:

Why is it that when you meet a nice person; one that is kind; one that makes you laugh; and one that has a cool group of friends... why is it that you just don't "feel anything" for them beyond friendship?

I've tried dating when there wasn't any "initial chemistry". I thought maybe it would show up later. However, I know from experience that this doesn't work. If chemistry isn't there at the beginning... it doesn't just magically appear later... no matter how much you wish it would. (But that's another story.)

I ran into two of my regular readers (Willy Mahooney & Leenoka Peterson... a charming and fun loving couple, that you can't help but be a little envious of :). They lectured me on not having "the talk" with "Eugenio". (Yes, I know you guys are right.) After the lecture, Leenoka made a funny comment... "Jane, How do you get so many dates. You've gone out with 4 (potentially 5) men in a matter of 3 weeks!"

Leenoka, I don't know the answer. Perhaps, it's because I say "yes" when a lot of women would say no. Maybe it's because I'm willing to give just about anyone a chance (a first date). However, as we can all see... quantity does not necessarily mean quality!

Thursday Evening Date

2005-05-13T18:07:00.000-05:00

My date with "Eugenio" on Thursday evening went really well. Great wine, great food & great company. No complaints... no drama... therefore... nothing to write about. (Go figure!)

He invited me to play softball with him and his friends tonight. Then everyone is coming over to his place afterwards for bbq. Should be fun. (I'm still not sure if I'm going to kiss him.)

A Potential Spy! (PART 2)

2005-05-13T17:59:00.000-05:00

I almost laughed out loud when I read “Darin’s” sushi invitation. If he really wanted to hear the story, so be it! (I was going to tell him) I drafted an email to “Darin” detailing the entire evening with “Creepy John”. I told him the truth (in its most brutal form). I figured that even if “Darin” was a spy for “Creepy John”; the story I was about to tell him could only prompt one of two responses:

1. “Darin” would feel like an ass for being associated with a creep like “John”; or
2. “Darin” would report back to “Creepy John” or forward the email to him. This would force “Creepy John” to take another look at how crappy he treated me. Maybe then he would realize why I don’t want to see him again.

I wrapped up my email to “Darin” with the following question:

“Darin, Was that the story you were expecting to hear? “John” is lucky that my family lives out of state... otherwise he would have gotten pounded by my brothers for the way he behaved. –Jane”

“P.S. I don’t like sushi.”

The email that “Darin” sent back to me, gave me the impression that he had decided to go with Response No. 1.

“Jane, That definitely was not what I expected to hear. I’m so sorry that I had anything to do with you meeting John. –Darin”

Well, those of you who know me… know that I’m not extremely good at being mean to people (even those who deserve it). I could tell (by the tone of “Darin’s” email) that he felt bad. So I sent a short email back to him:

“Darin, I don't blame you. I don't think anyone could have foreseen that disastrous date... The only reason I even bothered to talk with “John” afterwards was because I thought that maybe he simply had too much to drink... and had false courage. However, after talking with him on the phone, I have come to see that he’s just that much of an idiot. -Jane”

My email must have buffered the blow of my previous email to a point that “Darin” regrouped and sent me this:

“Jane, How do you feel about Japanese Steak Houses? – Darin”

Needless to say… I love Japanese Steak Houses! (I couldn't lie to him) So, I accepted his invitation (date to be announced).

I went back and forth on whether to accept, but I received some “fan feedback” and was convinced by one of my regular blog readers to go ahead and meet him, so long as it was clear that I’m paying for myself. (and trust me “TX Heat Her” I will… I will!)

A Potential Spy! (PART 1)

2005-05-12T14:28:00.000-05:00

If you can remember back a few weeks to one of my early posts entitled “Dating and Professional Associations” (Click on the April Archives to read it again), you might remember that I briefly mentioned a man I called “Darin”. “Darin” had introduced me to “Creepy John”.

Because it seemed insignificant to me at the time, I never mentioned this aspect of the story in my blog. Right before “Darin” introduced me to “Creepy John”, he made a comment that struck me funny. He said, “Tell me what you think of ‘Creepy John’. I’m curious what your impression of him is.”

The next day, after I received an email from “Creepy John” asking if he could call me that weekend, I received a phone call at my office from “Darin”. I remember thinking, why is he calling me? When I picked up the phone, “Darin” began talking to me as if we were old friends:

“Hey Jane, it’s “Darin” from last night. How are you doing? I was just wondering if you had heard from “(Creepy) John” at all? So what did you think of him? Are you two going out? Do you like him?” (Who was this guy?)

The phone call and the questions took me by surprise. I had a hundred thoughts going through my head. (Many of you may think that is a few hundred thoughts less than normal, and… you’re probably right.)

Why was a virtual stranger calling me, asking me these Junior High questions? Did “Creepy John” tell him to call me? Why does he want to know this? Is he reporting back to “Creepy John”? Based upon “Darin’s” behavior, I thought “Creepy John” was the more mature of the two.

I was guarded in my answers, but told him, “We’ll I didn’t talk to "John” very long yesterday evening, but he seemed nice. He emailed me today and I told him that he could call me this weekend. Um, I’m really busy. Can we talk some other time? I have to go.”

Well, that conversation (which was the day before my date with “Creepy John”) was the last time I heard from “Darin”. Until this week!

Monday morning I received the following email from “Darin”:

“Jane, So I asked John how things were going with you and I received a somewhat vague reply which made feel like I should ask you. So did John blow it big time or what? -Darin”

I was perplexed to say the least. Was this an attempt by “Creepy John” to have more contact with me via his friend “Darin”? (Oh the drama!)

I waited until late in the afternoon to reply, with the following short but poignant question back to him:

“Why do you want to know?”

Within minutes a reply from “Darin” shot back to my Inbox, “Jane, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be introducing "John" to women. He’s a big boy and can manage on his own. I just find it fun to play matchmaker sometimes.” (Hmmm, this wasn’t the answer I expected. I thought he would break down under my direct questioning and admit to being “Creepy John’s” crony and spy.)

Monday’s workday ended… this conversation would have to continue later (but the suspense continued to build). Tuesday morning I still had doubts. I wasn’t sure about this. Did I even want to communicate with this guy? My curiosity got the better of me, so I sent an email back.

“Darin, Yeah, John blew it. Are you two good friends? Does he know you're emailing me? –Jane”

Within an hour “Darin” had responded

“Jane,

No, we’re not good friends. We just see each other at the professional association events from time to time. Calling us ‘just plain old friends’ is probably a stretch. I’m still trying to figure John out. Between him blowing it with you and a couple of stories that he’s told about his past relationships, I’m starting to get the feeling that John is no good at relationships. John seems pretty all right in a general social setting, like the event you met him at. Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about figuring John out, but he does make me reconsider my own abilities to read people.

John doesn’t know I’m emailing you and I won’t mention it to him. I don’t see anything wrong with that. I don’t owe John anything and if you confide in me then I owe it to you to keep that confidence. I must admit, I am curious as to what he did to blow it. My impression from both you and him is that he committed some major fax pa. My curiosity won’t kill me if you don’t want to talk about it though.

Do you like sushi? I haven’t been in a while and you could easily bargain some sushi out me in exchange for the story. When I go I usually go to Sushi Tango in Uptown.

-Darin”

In case any of you missed that, "Darin" just asked me out!!! (Can this situation get any stranger? To be continued…)

Mid Week Update

2005-05-10T12:23:00.000-05:00

I think "Eugenio" is right. Blog sites are only exciting when bad things happen to the person writing it. Lately, my life has been relatively normal, and I'm finding I have less to write about. That is bad for all of you reading along, but relaxing for me.

I would like to give a shout out to my Grandmother, who started reading my blog this week. Her response after reading my postings, "I don't think I would like to be dating in this day and age." (I couldn't have said it better myself!)

Now for the update:

"Eugenio" and I are going out Thursday evening. We've been emailing daily and he keeps getting cooler and cooler.

The blatantly flirtatious emails between myself and "40 Year Old" culminated in a blatantly flirtatious phone call yesterday evening. We ended up talking for a while. He updated me on his latest business ventures and all the traveling he's been doing. Then we discussed the NBA Playoffs. (Important stuff like that!) It was good to talk to him. I haven't seen him since the "Date Incident" with "Mr. Personality". (Marvan, if you keep posting negative comments whenever I bring up "40 Year Old" I won't write about him... and then you'll be out of the loop! So be nice.)

For a "Creepy John" update... stay tuned! (There is a slight twist in the story that is unfolding as we speak.)

Suspicious Dent In My Door

2005-05-08T22:45:00.000-05:00

Some of you may have heard that I discovered a large dent in the passenger-side door of my car. (No, it wasn't my fault... this time.)

By my estimates the damage must have occurred somewhere between Thursday and Friday evening. Originally, I thought another vehicle had caused the damage, because there appeared to be white paint scuffed on the dent.

Upon further investigation, I could see that the white paint was in fact, bird poo. I could also see that there were "shoe tread marks" at the center of the dent. Someone kicked in my car door! (Who would do that?)

I don't live in the "best" of neighborhoods, but I've never had any problems before! Something inside of me suspects "Creepy John". But, I don't really think it could be him. He knows where I live, but he doesn't know what kind of car I drive. Unless, he's been following me... ick! (I mustn't let my paranoia run wild.)

I really don't think he could be that psycho, but I've been surprised before!

"40 Year Old" Update

2005-05-08T22:26:00.000-05:00

I received an extremely short, but blatantly flirtatious email from the "40 Year Old" today. Being the fool that I am, I replied to his email... in a blatantly flirtatious manner. (Gggrrrrrr, why do I do these things?)

A Drama Free Event

2005-05-08T21:06:00.000-05:00

I met "Eugenio" for coffee. He was normal! (What a relief!) Our mini-date turned into a three hour conversation. He is extremely interesting and easy to talk to. He wants to go out again. I told him "definitely."

Honestly, I can't make an immediate judgment as to whether "Eugenio" is someone that I want to pursue a dating relationship with, but we get along great. I think he's fun and worth getting to know better.

However, here is my dilemma... I'm always apt to meeting new people and making new friends. In the event I decide that I would rather be friends "Eugenio" instead of dating him... how do I approach the subject with him?

As my father says, "Men only have one thing on the brain. I don't care how nice they seem to be... Jane, if they have red blood flowing through their veins, they are only after one thing." (Thanks dad! The older I get... the wiser you get :)

As I was saying, "Eugenio" is someone I would love to have as a friend, but I'm not sure I want to pursue a dating relationship. So what do I do? If my dad is correct and all men are after the same thing... then "Eugenio" will likely only want to continue hanging out with me in the arena of dating.

How does a girl deal with this dilemma? Any suggestions?

On a lighter note... "Eugenio" and I stumbled onto the topic of blogs. (He brought it up, not me... and I definitely did not reveal to him that our date was the subject of my blog!) "Eugenio" made a funny observation, he said, "The only interesting blogs are the ones where the writers constantly have bad things happen to them (ie. drama).

Now, I think my blog is interesting... does this mean my life is filled with drama? And, if my life is truly filled with drama... does that mean that I'm a drama queen?

Nope, I don't think we can draw that conclusion! (Even though Austin HP... would thoroughly disagree and has categorized me as a "spaz" within the genus of drama queen. I might have to concede to that one day, but today is not that day.)

A Coffee Date

2005-05-06T15:50:00.000-05:00

Well, my sabbatical from dating didn't last as long as I had anticipated. I attribute it being cut short to scheduling conflicts... namely Saturday is the only time "Eugenio" and I are able to meet. It ends up, "Eugenio" lives just a few miles down the street from me. We are meeting (yes, I'm following the 'drive yourself rule') halfway. We've been exchanging emails all week. He's a fantastic story teller and extremely good at getting me to talk about myself (actually it doesn't take all that much work to get me to talk about myself). I'm really looking forward to our "informal date."

As far as the "40 Year Old" goes, I hadn't heard from him via email or any other form of communication for 2 days. Then, last night he called and left a voicemail. (I was in a tanning bed, otherwise I would have answered it right away.) The reception was bad and I could tell he was outside. The only thing I could catch was something about being in New Orleans.

I'm so ready to move on from him... really I am!

A Fair Trail? Or, A Fair Trial?

2005-05-05T12:56:00.000-05:00

A few minutes ago, I checked my mailbox/inbox at work. In it I found a bright blue card addressed to me. I thought it was a little strange, because it's not my birthday. I turned the card over and saw who sent it, "Creepy John". I let out a scream and my co-workers peeked out of their offices.

Everyone at my office knows the story of "Creepy John". So I proceeded to show them the greeting card he sent me.

It had a cloud on the front in the shape of a smiley face and the inside was blank... except for the following handwritten message:

"Jane, I regret that I insulted you. I did not mean to. You were correct when you said that we do not know each other well. But, you are someone that I want to know better. I admire your wit, your directness and your smooth persona. Give me a 'fair trail' (I believe the word he was going for was 'fair trial', but he misspelled it.) Yours, John"

Happy "trails" John, because you already had a "trial" run... it was called the "first date".

I'm a little sick to my stomach...

For the sake of posterity...

2005-05-04T13:11:00.000-05:00

Why did I agree to accept his call? (I know many of you are wondering.) Well, I didn't do it for me. I did it for the greater good, for the sake of posterity. I did it for the next woman! Ever the optimist, I thought maybe "Creepy John" was simply clueless when it came to dating etiquette and knowing how to treat a woman. Maybe no one ever told him that he was going about things all wrong. Maybe...

I received his call promptly at 9:30 p.m. He greeted me and began to asked how my weekend was. I told him, "fine". He asked me what I did. I told him, "I kept busy with work and friends." He informed me that he had a barbecue at his house with his family. (Why was he telling me this? I could care less.) I said, "That's nice."

I kept waiting for him to get to the point... (He wasn't getting there fast enough.)

He said, "I emailed you, because I wasn't sure you would answer if I just called. I wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to tell you that I had a nice time with you and wondered if you wanted to go out with me again? I was also wondering if everything was okay?"

I decided to get to the point for him. "Are you wondering why I never returned your calls after our date on Saturday?" He said, "Yeah."

And so I began... "John, I had a very nice time with you on Saturday. The date went really well until the last 30 minutes. I felt like you turned on me and became a different person. You were really aggressive and pushy. You made me feel extremely uncomfortable. "

I could hear him sigh on the other end of the phone. He said, "I thought there might be something wrong when you made the comment that you 'didn't know me that well'."

I said, "What did you think I would say when you grabbed my breast?" I continued, "John, the final straw was your comment about trying to get me drunk. That was one of the rudest things anyone has said to me on a date."

He interjected, "Oh come on, that was just a joke."

I snapped, "It wasn't funny!"

It was at this moment that I began to realize that "Creepy John" wasn't just creepy... he was really weird! I just told him he was completely offensive to me and he still thought he had a chance!

This was his defense:

"Jane, I didn't mean to move so fast. I completely understand why you felt uncomfortable. I"m really sorry, that was my mistake. It's just that I felt like we had so many commonalities. (Is that even a word?) I felt a close connection and completely forgot that we were only on our first date. I guess that's why I became so overly enthusiastic." (Is that what he calls it? "Overly Enthusiastic?")

My response, "mmmkay, well anyway... that was why I didn't call you back." This conversation was not going exactly the way I planned. I only anticipated it lasting 3 minutes... we were coming up on 5. I needed to wrap this conversation up.

"Well John, now that you know where I stand, I appreciate your call. Thanks for the apology (Although I"m still not sure it was one).

"Jane, do you think would consider going out with me again?"

Crap, this is exactly what I didn't want to happen. Why was he doing this? He kept talking.

"Jane, I mean you work with people that have messed up their lives. You do it for a living and deal with them everyday. Do you think you could find it in your heart to give me a second chance to?" (What a whiney manipulator! First of all, I get paid to deal with the dregs of society. Second of all, I don't date them!)

I was quiet... then I said, "I'm not so sure that that's what I want. That would take a lot of consideration on my part. I'll think about it, but don't call me. I'll call you."

At that moment, I thought the less direct route would be the kindest route to take with him. In my mind I was letting him down easy. (Oh the fool I am.) I had barely finished talking when he said:

"Jane, can I call you this weekend to see what your decision is? Is it okay if I call?" I was stupefied, but somehow the words snapped out of me.

"You can call me, but that doesn't mean I'll answer. If I change my mind, I'll call you."

This man didn't stop... "Um, well... see... I have tickets to this concert on Thursday and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me... blah blah blah." (I had stopped listening to him.) Was this actually happening to me? I have never seen a more persistent (or perhaps desperate) man in my life. Why didn't he get it?

I had to stop this, "John, I told you, I'll call you if I change my mind. Listen, I have to go, I have to do my laundry. I'm saying goodbye."

The last words I heard as I hung up the phone were, "I'll wait for your call."

What a waste of 10 minutes. I could have been doing my laundry and watching Law and Order SVU. That's the last time I try to do society a favor!

The Return of "Creepy John"

2005-05-03T13:56:00.000-05:00

I spoke too soon about "Creepy John". I just received an email, exactly 8 days after his last phone call. It reads:

"I'd like to talk with you. If I were to give you a call tonight at about 9:30, would you be available to talk?"

I think I should talk to him cell phone to cell phone. This is going to be really weird, but it's best for me to address this situation directly.

If anyone has any advice for me... better post it before 9:00 p.m. CST.

Sabbatical

2005-05-03T11:54:00.000-05:00

As many of you have already heard, I'm going on dating sabbatical this week. I need a break. The drama of the past few weeks has exhausted me.

"Mr. Personality" has not... and in my opinion, will not try to contact me.

"Creepy John" has not... and in my opinion, will not try to contact me again.

"40 Year Old" and I are still talking... every day. (I know I'm going to get some grief from many of you for admitting that.)

"Eugenio" and I are still emailing, but the conversation is fluffy. He seems like he'd be a fun person to hang out with. He is an ultimate frisbee enthusiast! Maybe I will suggest that we hang out sometime. (But, not until after my sabbatical is finished :)

It's A Small World After All... way too small.

2005-04-29T09:27:00.000-05:00

In a metropolitan area with greater than three million people, what are the chances that the "40 Year Old" would show up at the same bar where I was having my date with "Mr. Personality" (apparently the odds were pretty good).

The story that is about to follow is true in its entirety and I can't tell you how tempted I am to use "real names" this time. Remember how I said my date with "Creepy John" was possibly the worst date of my life? It was... until last night!

"Mr. Personality" ("Mr. P" from here on out, because "Personality" takes too long to type) and I met at one of the newer trendy bars downtown. I got there first and sat down. I love this place. The amber colored bar is lit from underneath. It casts a warm orange and gold glow on the entire room. I'd been to this place a few times in recentmonths. In fact, this was where I had my first date with the "40 Year Old".

"Mr. P" walked in a few minutes later. He looked nice and he grabbed a seat next to me. We ordered drinks and started talking and talking and talking... We had so much to talk about and there was a mutual attraction. Everything was going great until out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone... It couldn't be. (Please God let this be a dream) It was "40 Year Old" with his friend Liz. (For the record, Liz is his friend. She has a boyfriend. They weren't on a date.) I was seated at a central part of the bar and I knew it wouldn't be long before I was spotted. It took all of my energy to act normal for "Mr. P". I was freaking out inside!

Within five minutes of spotting "40 Year Old" I knew that what I feared most (besides being eaten alive by sharks) was about to happen. "40 Year Old" began to walk over towards us. He had a huge smile on his face. He was enjoying every minute of this.

He walked up to me and gave me a big hug, "Hey kiddo, how are you doing?"

What an ass! He's never called me "kiddo" before, why would he start in front of his friends and my date?

I introduced them to my date and the small talk started. "Mr. P" turned on the charm and I could tell that "40 Year Old" was extremely impressed with him... I was. "Mr. P" was dressed really well, smelled really well and looked well... really good! "40 Year Old" hadn't shaved that day, was dressed for a sports bar (not the type of bar we were in), and well... he smelled nice to, but I wasn't going to tell him that! (Darn that Old Spice High Endurance deodorant... I'm such a sucker.)

Anyway, they talked about local politics and such and I turned to Liz and struck up a conversation with her. It ends up that she is from my home state... so we had plenty to talk about. I had heard a lot about her from the "40 Year Old" and she had heard a lot about me from him. After 15 minutes of conversation, they finally moved to the other side of the bar (but directly across from us and with a clear line of sight). "40 Year Old" continued to glance over at us for the next hour. I ignored him and focused all my attention on "Mr. P".

Things were going well with "Mr. P". In the middle of our conversation, "Mr. P" completely surprised me when he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I immediately blushed and didn't know what to do. I was positive "40 Year Old" had seen the entire thing. "Mr. P" waited for a reaction from me. I didn't give him one. Then he said, "Was that okay? Don't leave me hanging..." I didn't know what to say, but I was rescued by the bartender who interrupted us by informing us that the gentlemen across the bar wanted to buy us drinks.

I looked at "Mr. P" and I looked at the bartender and I said "no". "Mr. P" looked at me and said, "why". I had to come clean about this whole situation.

I proceeded to tell "Mr. P" that I had just stopped seeing "40 Year Old" a couple weeks ago and that this was an extremely awkward situation for me. I knew the only way out of this was to tell him the whole truth!

"Mr. P" handled it better than I could have ever expected. He said, "Jane, it would be rude for us to refuse his offer. We can accept a drink, but we don't have to finish it, and we can leave at any time and go to another bar if that would make you feel more comfortable." I told him that would be wonderful and that is exactly what we did!

"Mr. P" and I talked and talked and talked. This was turning into a fantastic date. I liked how this cat operated. As we walked from his car to the next club, he stopped me on the sidewalk and kissed me. It was great! We walked into the club, the bouncers waived us in (apparently they knew Mr. P). The bartenders gave us free drinks (apparently they knew Mr. P). The waitresses gave him hugs (apparently they knew Mr. P). "Mr. P" knew everyone!

In fact, it was such a small world... earlier in the night "Mr. P" mentioned that he used to hang out at a bar that I used to frequent... O' Sweeny's. I knew a bunch of the staff and asked him if he knew any of them. He just happened to know my my friend Lori. What a coincidence!

"Mr. P" ran into a client of his at the club. He politely excused himself for a few minutes to speak with him alone. I told him to go right ahead. While "Mr. P" spoke to his client. I called my friend "Bridget" on my cell and told her that "Mr. P" knew our friend Lori from O' Sweeny's. But, my conversation was cut short, because "Mr. P" quickly returned.

"Mr. P" changed the focus of the date. He became very serious and told me that he liked me; that he wanted to see me again; and that he wasn't the type of guy that played games. He was looking for someone that was up front and honest. Then he dropped the bomb: "Jane, I just want to be straight with you. I have a child, I used to be married and I'm very untrusting right now, because my ex-wife cheated on me."

(Wow, that was a lot for me to take in all at once.) He waited for a reaction from me, but didn't get one. I didn't know what to say, so he said, "I thought you knew this about me when you agreed to go out with me. I figured you had heard it through the grape vine. But, it became apparent to me as our date went we talked throughout the night I realized you didn't know this." I looked at him and said, "Mr. P, I don't know anything about your past. Nor have I ever heard anything about you before. This is all new to me."

"Mr. P" starred into my eyes and began to tell me that his child was the most important thing in his life. He told me that he wanted to date me, but that if I had a problem with him having a child, then he couldn't date me. He wanted to know right now whether I had a problem with it.

Hesitation came over me. I thought to myself, I don't know if I have a problem with dating a man with a child. I haven't given it much thought before now. I starred into his eyes and said, "I need to process all this information, because you just laid a shitload (Yes, I actually said shitload) of stuff on me. I need to think about this before I give you an answer. "

Then I told him, "I like you you, but I have some loose ends to tie up with "40 Year Old". There is some unfinished business there, and I don't want to be unfair to you."

He seemed rather panicked by my response. I didn't understand why. I thought to myself... I had given him a very thoughtful and honest answer. But, it didn't seem to sit right with him.

Soon after, we left the bar and said goodnight. It was getting late and I had to work the next day. He kept saying, "I had a great date, but you're not going to call me back, I know you aren't going to call." I told him to stop being ridiculous and that I just wanted to think about it first and that I'd call him in the morning.

As I drove away, I called "40 Year Old". He picked up the phone and started laughing. I told him he was an ass. He responded innocently but full of sarcasm, "But Jane, what did I do wrong?" I told him the least he could have done is ignored that he saw me and gone home. He said he couldn't resist. "40 Year Old" asked me all about the date. He told me that "Mr. P" seemed really cool and he wondered if we were going out again. I responded, "Yeah, but he has a kid, so I'm debating whether I want to get involved with that". "40 Year Old" agreed and then our real conversation began.

I said, "Listen, we both know that if you were really interested in anything serious with me, then you would date me exclusively. You're 40 years old! If you don't know what you want now, you will never know and I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to decide. We need to stop talking about dating altogether and just be done with this, especially if we want to have any chance at being friends."

"40 Year Old" said, "Jane, I never promised you anything. You know there's a good chance I'm moving away (this is crazy, b/c he was always trying to convince me that there was a good chance he was staying). Even if you were the perfect woman, I still wouldn't want to be exclusive. That just isn't where I'm at at this point." I told him that was all I needed to hear and we said goodnight. I had just tied up my loose ends...

Now here is where the story really begins...

As soon as I hung up with "40 Year Old", my good friend "Bridget" called me. She said, "Are you done with your date? Are you at home?" I told her, "yeah, what is going on?"

She began to tell me how after I called her at the club, she called our friend Lori from O'Sweenys. Lori it ends up is really good friends with "Mr. P's" brother. "Bridget" told Lori that I was on a date with "Mr. P". Lori told "Bridget" to call me back immediately, because "Mr. P" was married. And, not only was he married... he was still married and living with his wife and child. They are one of those screwed up couples that cheat on each other all the time!

"Bridget" asked me if I was okay. I told her I was fine. She told me to call her if I needed to cry. I told her I was fine and I hung up the phone. I began to cry. It was an angry cry. I was angry at "40 Year Old". I was angry at "Mr. P". I was angry at "Creepy John". I was angry at myself.

I called "Bridget" back. I guess I didn't feel like crying alone.

Needless to say, I woke up the next day with puffy eyes. And, in case there was any doubt. I did not call "Mr. P" back!

A Note On Personal Safety

2005-04-28T16:57:00.000-05:00

For those of you that may have had some concerns (Austin HP and Bdette). Rest assured, I will be driving myself tonight :)

Midday Status Update

2005-04-28T12:48:00.000-05:00

8:50 a.m., "40 Year Old" calls me to discuss potential terms of "exclusive" dating relationship, and to see how my sister-in-law is doing (she's in the hospital)... It was nice of him to ask. No agreement was struck, but some additional terms were discussed.

9:30 a.m., Checked my email at work, "Eugenio" emailed me. I hadn't emailed him since late last week. He dropped me a quick note saying "hello" and wishing me a nice week. I have to email him back today after work. I'm so busy today!

12:15 p.m., "Mr. Personality" calls me at my office. I wasn't even sure who he was at first, but I quickly figured it out. I asked him if I could call him back in a few minutes... which I did on my lunch. We're meeting tonight for drinks at 8:30 p.m.

For those of you who don't know me and are simply following my blog for entertainment purposes... I normally DO NOT normally have this many dates in such a short amount of time. I honestly don't know why this is all happening at the same time. It must be the warmer weather or something. But I have to say, coordinating schedules and remembering names is getting more and more difficult.

Another failed attempt by "Creepy John" and the Airport Rendezvous

2005-04-27T17:36:00.000-05:00

True to his word (again), "Creepy John" called. And, true to form... I let his call click over into voicemail. I've decided that the solution to this situation is "inaction". I'm going to ignore his calls and just hope he goes away. I know most of you reading are going to yell at me for avoiding confrontation, but I just want to forget that date ever happened.

I picked up the "40 Year Old" from the airport. After he jumped in the car and wrapped up his cell phone conversation. We immediately jumped into conversation. He was a little panicked and slightly distracted from the conversation... because I was driving, talking and listening to him all at the same time. Those are three activities that I have never been able to do simultaneously. (Actually, I can't even do any two of those activities simultaneously without being a hazzard on the roadways.) Once he calmed down and we figured out where we were going, he told me all about his job interview (which went extremely well) and we drove to a restaurant in town. It was great to see him and he seemed genuinely happy to see me. We had dinner, but I made our waitress split the bill. We caught up on the past week. It seemed like it had been much longer since we last saw each other. He kept prying about my weekend wanting to know what I had been up to. I finally told him I had a date... and a bad one at that. After I spilled the beans on "Creepy John", he told me it was my own fault, because I broke the "drive yourself rule".

Regardless, we started talking about the two of us dating. He held his non-committment stance and I held my exclusivity stance. We argued about what the definitions of each were. This conversation went on for a long time. We agreed that we both wanted to date each other, but neither of us were willing to budge on our terms. So after an intense conversation, we were at the same place as we where a week ago. We aren't dating, but we are going to try and be friends.

(My most vocal critics/friends have already made their opinions known on this issue... Hermosa Beach... hold your tongue and your blog comments. I already know what you're going to say! :)

Voicemail and Email... the delight of delayed and calculated communications...

2005-04-25T17:19:00.000-05:00

I received two voicemails and one email yesterday evening.

The "40 Year Old" was responsible for one of the voicemails and the email. He wanted to know if I could possibly pick him up from the airport tomorrow and then meet him for coffee.

I evaluated the situation and decided that I didn't want to seem too anxious. So, I emailed him back and told him that I would have to check my schedule, but that I would get back to him tomorrow. I called him the next morning to tell him that I could pick him up. Honestly, I do want to see him, I miss hanging out with him.

Okay, and now for the second voicemail. (I'm so glad I missed this call.) It was "Creepy John". I was surprised he called. He seemed to think everything was fine. His message, "Hey Jane, I was just calling to see how you were doing. Give me a call back. I'll be up until 11:00 p.m. Otherwise, I'll just talk to you tomorrow."

I don't think so! I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to deal with this. The options: Tell him the truth, because I honestly think he doesn't think anything is wrong; Lie to him, and tell him some story about getting back together with an ex-boyfriend (that one has saved me a few times); or Ignore him and hope he goes away.

For a single gal, voicemail is like having your parents there to screen your calls. Telling the boy on the other end that you're at your friend's house or that you are sleeping and can't take calls. It's great!

"Creepy John" and the date that went bad

2005-04-24T18:57:00.000-05:00

True to his word, "John" called on Saturday and asked me out for dinner that night. I didn't have any plans and I said "sure"... First mistake of the night. He offered to pick me up at my place and I said "sure"... Second mistake of the night.

Things started off just fine. We went to a new cafe not far from his place. We ordered drinks and dinner. I wasn't paying a ton of attention to how much he was drinking, because we were having a good conversation. We had a lot to talk about and we got along well. I was much more impressed with him at this meeting than I was when I initially met him a few days earlier. He seemed like a really nice guy, so when he invited me to see his house (down the street), I didn't have any hesitations... Third mistake of the night.

We arrived at his place. It was nice. He offered me another drink, and we both had a beer (note: this was my second and last drink of the night... it was his 4th and definately not his last). John had an incredible collection of books at his house. We talked for hours about books that we've read, which authors we liked and which books we both wanted to read. We talked about our family backgrounds a little and then he started to ask the prying questions... questions about past boyfriends and relationships. Why did he have to go there.

I was up front and told him that I had actually just stopped seeing someone ("the 40 Year Old") earlier this week. He wanted to know details. So, I told him. This is when things started to get weird.

He kept offering to get me another drink. I told him no, but he poured me another anyway. I never touched it, but I did notice that he had a few more drinks. The more he drank the more he kept nagging me to sit down on the couch next to him. I finally sat down and he started getting cuddly with me, putting his arm around me and such. He kept talking about my past relationships and saying things like, "Oh, that must really have hurt you ". "Are you okay?" "Do you think it will be hard to get over him?"

I told him I would be just fine and it wasn't that big of a deal, as I tried to scoot away from him. But, he scooted closer.

He finally came right out and said (I swear these are his exact words), "come on just give me a kiss, just give me a kiss." Honestly, I didn't really know what I was hearing and I wasn't sure what happened next, but he put his hand on my chin, turned me face and started mauling my face with his lips. I couldn't keep up. I wasn't sure what was going on. But I knew one thing for sure... This guy was 39 years old an a terrible kisser!

I didn't want to hurt his feelings and I didn't know how to tell him I wasn't enjoying this at all, but he afforded me the perfect opportunity. He grabbed my leg and kept pulling it on top of his and pulling me closer to him. I pulled away and said, "I don't know if you heard what I said a few minutes ago, but I just stopped seeing someone on Monday. You're moving way too fast and I don't even know you!"

I tried to wrap up the night. Told him it was time for me to head back. I was mad at myself... why did I agree to let him pick me up. I broke my own rule. Always drive yourself to a first date... so you can leave at anytime!

He seemed like he was okay with me wanting to leave. He thanked me for a great evening told me he wanted to see me again. I told him "sure", even though I never plan on talking to him again. At that point I still had to be nice to him, because I needed a ride home.

Then the final straw came. He leaned in for a goodnight kiss and smothered me again. He grabbed my hand to hold it (which completely weirded me out, because handholding is reserved for serious relationships only). However, it was ridiculous for me to worry about the hand holding, because he quickly lost interest in my hand and went for my breast.

It was a direct attack! I grabbed his hand pulled it off and walked away. I told him, "I definately don't know you that well, I want to go home now!" He laughed and said, "well how else am I supposed to get to know you better?" It was at that point that I realized how much this guy had to drink.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed my purse. Then he said, "Do you see all the liquor I pulled out for you? You're really hard to get drunk." What an idiot, who says that?

I walked out the front door and he drove me home. Worst date of my life? Maybe, but my life isn't over yet!

Update with "40 Year Old"

2005-04-24T18:48:00.000-05:00

I received a phone call on Friday night from the "40 Year Old". I missed the call because I was working, but he left a voicemail.

On it he said, "Hey, hope everything is going well. Sorry I've been missing in action on email the past few days. Things have been really busy for me. The shit hit the fan this week. I'm heading out for a beer with a friend of mine (a friend of his who I've hung out with before) and wondered if you wanted to join us. Give me a call if you want to meet up."

I didn't get his voicemail until 10:00 p.m. I was somewhat relieved that I got the message too late and didn't have to make a decision either way. I called him back the next morning around 11:00 a.m. and left a voicemail. I thanked him for the invite, but told him I got out of work too late. Then I said, give me a call later if you want.

I went back and forth in my mind whether I should have called him back or just ignored the call. I don't know if I made the right choice. Regardless, I haven't heard back from him yet.

Dating and Professional Associations

2005-04-23T14:33:00.000-05:00

The event: A spring social for young/new professionals in my field. The location: A trendy new restaurant in the downtown. The crowd: a fun mix of friends, collegues and strangers. We all essentially have the same job and that gives us an excuse to drink and socialize.

At this event, business cards and phone numbers are traded and passed around like Pokemon cards on a playground. A large group of us were on the patio ordering food and making introductions. A guy approached me and introduced himself as "Darin", he gave me his card and said, "I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I would really like to introduce you to my friend over there across the table. He doesn't know I'm doing this, but I think you two should meet". I told him that was fine and we walked over to the other side. Darin introduced me to "John". John was nice enough, but seemed a little old. I estimated about 35 (later I read his profile on his company's website and my estimate is now up to 38/39. We talked for a few minutes, the conversation was pretty neutral and ordinary.

Then "Mr. Personality" showed up. He was loud, the center of attention and a little over the top. But, he kept standing next to me and inviting everyone to an upscale restaurant down the street. The friend that I had drove to the event with interrupted my conversation with John and introduced me to Mr. Personality. He told us that if we left this place and met him at the other restaurant in 20 minutes... dinner was on him. We closed our tab. I'm not one to pass up a free dinner.

John was sitting right next to me watching the entire interaction unfold. To his credit, he picked up the pace, asked for my card and asked me out. I said sure (He's calling me this weekend).

Needless to say, my friend and I met Mr. Personality at the other restaurant. I had some killer chocolate cake. Mr. Personality came off his caffeine high and ended up being rather sweet. My friend sat inbetween us. He leaned over and told my friend that he liked me (but he said it loud enough for me to hear it). It was starting to get late, so I thanked him for dinner and we agreed to go out sometime. Who knows when that will be. We'll see if he calls. I think I gave him my number... I can't remember.

The Story Begins...

2005-04-22T14:34:00.000-05:00

This story begins with me 4 days after ending a dating relationship with a 40 year old man. Yes, I dated a 40 year old... Almost everyone reading my blog knows the story of why and how that ended, so I won't elaborate.

Here is the current status of my dating adventures:

I was asked out by "Eugenio" on two separate occassions while I was working at my part time retail job. I've had a few offers from customers before, but they really creeped me out and I never considered them. Eugenio was extremely polite, not pushy, straight forward and just seemed like a credible guy overall. His pick up line (which worked quite effectively), "Jane, you seem like a really nice girl. I would like to take you to dinner sometime. Here is my card, call me if you're interested." I never called him, but three weeks later I ran into him again at the store (He isn't stalking me, he just moved into a new condo and has a lot of stuff to buy for it). Anyway, he didn't make me feel bad about not calling. I felt like I owed him an explanation as to why I didn't call. So I told him the truth, that the reason I hadn't called was because I had started dating someone else (aka the 40 year old player). He said that was fine, and that I should email him sometime because, "email is harmless enough".

So, 2 days after I ended it with the 40 year old, I emailed Eugenio and we've been emailing back and forth. He's pretty cool. I don't know if anything romantic will result from it all, but at the very least he seems to be a person that is worth getting to know better.

2005-04-22T13:38:00.000-05:00

Dater Jane