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Dinner for two?

June 1, 2007

by Alice 

Lord knows I’m not a great dater, in fact I might actually be the worst dater in the history of dating.

A few weeks ago I agreed to meet up with a co-worker after work, I think it was a date, however, I’m never really sure when something is a date or when something is simply “hanging out”. He was delayed for unforeseeable work reasons and I was stuck waiting for him. I don’t like to wait for people, especially a “date” so I called a friend and asked her where she was and informed her that I would be crashing her party … I can’t sit around appearing to be desperate, now can I? I sent my “date” a message that I was changing the plans, I was going to meet up with my friends, but that he should join us as soon as he was available. He joined and my dear friend ran my poor “date” through the ringer. She teased him endlessly, constantly throwing him under the bus. It was rather funny for everyone, maybe even for my “date”, maybe. His repeated response to my friend teasing was, “you’re not going to make me uncomfortable,” which might have meant, “you are really making me uncomfortable” or it could have meant, “bring it on”. But the point is we all had a great time. We laughed the entire evening, at my “date’s” expense, and the change in plans and my friends jokes seemed to add to the evening, rather than subtract. When he was on his way out I stayed seated on my chair and extended a handshake to say goodbye. My friend and her co-worker “date” started laughing at my behavior which is right exactly when I realized that the handshake was a bit formal for the situation. I stood up to give him a hug goodbye, stepped on his foot, tripping him. To catch his balance he leaned forward, falling into my and grabbed my boob.

In college my friends and I all decided to go on a creative date, gotta love good ol’ BYU. We decided that we would each ask out someone named Dave—we were going to have a Dave date. I’m very bad with names and so of course I remembered the name incorrectly and I brought a John, instead of a Dave, on our Dave date.

When I first started working where I work now I trained a guy who I thought was rather cute. When I saw him in Safeway shopping one evening I decided to step out of my realm and flirt a little. I flirted shamelessly. I even thought that we made some very nice headway. He seemed incredibly receptive to my flirting and we even agreed that if he couldn’t figure out what he was going to make for dinner he could swing by my place and have some of what I was making, addresses somehow had been exchanged. When I got to work the next day I thought for sure I would have a witty e-mail from the guy expressing his feelings about just how adorable he found me, or possibly even a personal visit. But nothing, no phone call, no swinging by my office, no e-mail, nothing! I decided to take the initiative. I went up to his floor walked by his office and popped my head in the door. I asked, “what did you end up eating for dinner last night? You never stopped by my house so I assume you figured something out.” He gave me the oddest look and asked, “what are you talking about?” “You know, last night in Safeway, shopping for dinner?” “I wasn’t in Safeway last night.” “Really? Interesting, than I wonder who it was I was talking to.” “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.” Completely humiliated I quickly retreated to my office. Clearly, I’m also not that good at remembering faces outside of the context in which I know the individual.

So, there you have it, I don’t know when a date is a date, I don’t know how to end a date, I’m bad with names and faces. I’m bad at dating!

You would think with all of this embarrassment I suffer through on a somewhat regular basis that I would hate dating and I would pray for my knight in shining amour to arrive so that I can put all of this dating stuff in my past, but I don’t. I enjoy dating. I enjoy being single, even at the ripe old age of 32 … in the LDS religion I’m a spinster. In San Francisco I’m not at all.

However, I have been married. I was married for almost 5 years, about 5 years ago. Being married was much more difficult than having to figure out if I end a date with a handshake, a hug, or a kiss. Divorce was much more difficult than any girlfriend-boyfriend break-up has ever been. I’m not great at dating, which is funny because I think that I was pretty darn good at being married. Sure, I’d like to one day have someone to share my life with and have children with, but I haven’t met that person yet, and this time I want to make sure that we both think that we are the right person for one another.

And if I don’t find him, single sure beats the hell out of being married and feeling alone.

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3 comments

  1. I love that you are enjoying yourself…your past experiences have given you that, I think.

    I was trying to make a serious comment about all this but I’m still laughing about your dating hug and your “date’s” attempt to get to second base…

    kidding…kidding…


  2. Funny… your “Dave Date” reminds me of when I was in High School… and college. In High School, my group of friends decided to have a “Dream Date” where we would all ask the hottest girls we knew of on dates. The basic ground rule was that we couldn’t actually KNOW them. While a fair number of girls passed on the experience, the Cheerleaders and Drill Team, among others, were still surprisingly well-represented.

    In college after our missions we resurrected the Dream Date… Though finding dates was harder than I’d thought it would be going into it. I started going right up to any girl I thought was attractive and asking her out… but basically everyone in sight had a boyfriend, was engaged, or was married (or so they claimed). I think I asked out about 21 random girls before striking gold.


  3. The great thing about dating – everyone is bad at it.



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