As I made the lonely journey last night from the city back to my home in the suburbs, my eyes watered with tears. It felt like I had finally reached a breaking point. The "mission" looked more like "mission impossible." Only I couldn't make light of my situation with such a comparison - I had reached the depths of despair.
It started with my twenty-fifth date since launching a mission and blog aimed at developing social abilities, and a social life to go along with them. It was one of my rare second-dates - only the fourth person I had ever met up with more than once.
We were just going to dinner and a movie (her idea), and this time, I was genuinely looking forward to it. Not for the usual chance to improve my skills and gain experience, but because I thought it would actually just be lots of fun. I'd felt that our first date had been flawless, and we'd been communicating via text messages and e-mails for the past two weeks. This was unlike any other of my experiences. My new acquaintance seemed to be absolutely crazy about me. At least, in text.....
I picked her up at her home in the city. When I called her to tell her I'd arrived, I tried to continue the confidence that I exuded online.
"What's up, babe?"
But once I actually saw her person, I felt a little awkward. In the first few minutes, with me driving and her giving directions, I knew I was coming across as a little awkward and a little nervous, as I stumbled ever so slightly when I spoke. I'd had what I thought was a great little mental list of things to talk about, but after we were finally together, I failed to remember them easily. The result? Some silences to go with my slight stumbling. Stop-and-go conversation - nothing fluent. I soon began to improve a bit, but not enough.
And that was it. After about 15 minutes - before we arrived at our destination - I saw it. That far-away look in her eyes. Glancing over at my passenger, and I knew without doubt what she was thinking. I wasn't what she expected. She didn't want to be out with me.
But I was improving. By the time we were seated at the restaurant, I was quite comfortable. In fact, I was back to being "completely myself" - at least in flashes. I was doing what I always do. Keeping the conversation light and fun. Making humorous little comments, if not jokes. None of it, though, had any effect on her.
Even when the conversation seemed to be going well, she clearly wasn't interested. She kept looking at her cell phone. But it was worse than just looking. At one point, she was looking down, reading and/or writing text messages while I was trying to talk to her. I waited, and couldn't believe how long she was willing to divert her attention away from me and to her cell phone instead.
I was doing about as well as ever at times, but it was all to no avail. She didn't like anything I said, or anything I did. For example, she mentioned she had been picking up Spanish from a roommate, and I asked if she wanted to try to have a conversation with me in Spanish. She said, "Is that what you want to do?" Nope....she didn't want to humor me. At one point, she seemed to test me by asking me what I thought about Obama's "race speech" - American politics. Probably the most uncomfortable topic she could have brought up. She then proceeded to one last trial, and though I tried to keep up, I was sure I had failed that as well.
As the night went on, things mostly just continued to deteriorate. She seemed to see no humor, or even any interest in much of anything I said. And the red flag had risen - she'd stopped asking me questions, even reciprocal ones. We had time to chat and hang out before the movie started, but instead, she just kept at her cell phone (which she did throughout much of the movie as well).
On the way back to her house, she said something about me driving faster. She couldn't wait to get away from me! She asked almost zero questions of me on the way back. Not even a simple "how about you?" in response to one of mine.
She half-heartedly hugged me and said thanks for dinner - something like that - and did it as soon as I got out of the car. I told her I would walk her to her door. She didn't even turn around to look at me as she said goodbye. Instead, she spoke while unlocking and opening the door, clearly trying to avoid any possibility of a goodnight kiss.
Which brings us back to the teary-eyed ride home. Of course, I wasn't brought to tears by the mere realization that I would never see this person again. Sure, it was disappointing. We'd had a lot of fun talking online, and the first date had been great. The possibilities were endless! But that's not enough for me to suffer a breakdown.
Instead, it was the feeling that I was living a sort of nightmare. I thought about the effort I'd put into this mission of mine since July. Eight and a half months, and what did I have to show for it?
For once, I didn't have anybody else lined up. I'm not even talking to anyone else online now. There is absolutely nothing on the horizon. As for friends.... it's been hard to find them. I've met up 1-on-1 with four people just as friends. One of them I still see - amazing! I'll never take that for granted. But two of them completely ignored me after our meetings. The other I saw on Sunday, and she seemed not to even like me very much. In fact, my time with her reminds me of last night. I've seen in at least three instances that women somehow resent me when they've gone out with me and, for whatever reason, have lost interest. It's crazy! I'm friendly, I make my best effort at conversation, and I'm a gentleman who pays for everything....and what do I get? Spite?
When I arrived home, I sent this e-mail to my date. Partly because I was a little angry. Partly because I wanted to experiment. Partly because it would give me something to focus on, other than my own apparent failure. And partly because I hoped it might have the miraculous effect of giving me another chance. Here's the final exchange in its entirety:
"Hey Katie. Ok, so I hope you don't take this the wrong way.... regardless of how interested you are or aren't in someone, it's really rude to stay on your cell messages when they're taking you out. I was really annoyed at dinner and torn between letting it go and busting our evening over it...I know no one's perfect, but I feel like everyone knows better than that, so I scarcely even wanted to talk to you. I had my cell on silent, not even vibrate, and never looked at it. But yeah, don't take it the wrong way....I just got to thinking how tired I am going to be tomorrow over someone who couldn't even ignore their cell a few hours for me, and I thought it'd do us both some good for me to tell you this."
It started with my twenty-fifth date since launching a mission and blog aimed at developing social abilities, and a social life to go along with them. It was one of my rare second-dates - only the fourth person I had ever met up with more than once.
We were just going to dinner and a movie (her idea), and this time, I was genuinely looking forward to it. Not for the usual chance to improve my skills and gain experience, but because I thought it would actually just be lots of fun. I'd felt that our first date had been flawless, and we'd been communicating via text messages and e-mails for the past two weeks. This was unlike any other of my experiences. My new acquaintance seemed to be absolutely crazy about me. At least, in text.....
I picked her up at her home in the city. When I called her to tell her I'd arrived, I tried to continue the confidence that I exuded online.
"What's up, babe?"
But once I actually saw her person, I felt a little awkward. In the first few minutes, with me driving and her giving directions, I knew I was coming across as a little awkward and a little nervous, as I stumbled ever so slightly when I spoke. I'd had what I thought was a great little mental list of things to talk about, but after we were finally together, I failed to remember them easily. The result? Some silences to go with my slight stumbling. Stop-and-go conversation - nothing fluent. I soon began to improve a bit, but not enough.
And that was it. After about 15 minutes - before we arrived at our destination - I saw it. That far-away look in her eyes. Glancing over at my passenger, and I knew without doubt what she was thinking. I wasn't what she expected. She didn't want to be out with me.
But I was improving. By the time we were seated at the restaurant, I was quite comfortable. In fact, I was back to being "completely myself" - at least in flashes. I was doing what I always do. Keeping the conversation light and fun. Making humorous little comments, if not jokes. None of it, though, had any effect on her.
Even when the conversation seemed to be going well, she clearly wasn't interested. She kept looking at her cell phone. But it was worse than just looking. At one point, she was looking down, reading and/or writing text messages while I was trying to talk to her. I waited, and couldn't believe how long she was willing to divert her attention away from me and to her cell phone instead.
I was doing about as well as ever at times, but it was all to no avail. She didn't like anything I said, or anything I did. For example, she mentioned she had been picking up Spanish from a roommate, and I asked if she wanted to try to have a conversation with me in Spanish. She said, "Is that what you want to do?" Nope....she didn't want to humor me. At one point, she seemed to test me by asking me what I thought about Obama's "race speech" - American politics. Probably the most uncomfortable topic she could have brought up. She then proceeded to one last trial, and though I tried to keep up, I was sure I had failed that as well.
As the night went on, things mostly just continued to deteriorate. She seemed to see no humor, or even any interest in much of anything I said. And the red flag had risen - she'd stopped asking me questions, even reciprocal ones. We had time to chat and hang out before the movie started, but instead, she just kept at her cell phone (which she did throughout much of the movie as well).
On the way back to her house, she said something about me driving faster. She couldn't wait to get away from me! She asked almost zero questions of me on the way back. Not even a simple "how about you?" in response to one of mine.
She half-heartedly hugged me and said thanks for dinner - something like that - and did it as soon as I got out of the car. I told her I would walk her to her door. She didn't even turn around to look at me as she said goodbye. Instead, she spoke while unlocking and opening the door, clearly trying to avoid any possibility of a goodnight kiss.
Which brings us back to the teary-eyed ride home. Of course, I wasn't brought to tears by the mere realization that I would never see this person again. Sure, it was disappointing. We'd had a lot of fun talking online, and the first date had been great. The possibilities were endless! But that's not enough for me to suffer a breakdown.
Instead, it was the feeling that I was living a sort of nightmare. I thought about the effort I'd put into this mission of mine since July. Eight and a half months, and what did I have to show for it?
For once, I didn't have anybody else lined up. I'm not even talking to anyone else online now. There is absolutely nothing on the horizon. As for friends.... it's been hard to find them. I've met up 1-on-1 with four people just as friends. One of them I still see - amazing! I'll never take that for granted. But two of them completely ignored me after our meetings. The other I saw on Sunday, and she seemed not to even like me very much. In fact, my time with her reminds me of last night. I've seen in at least three instances that women somehow resent me when they've gone out with me and, for whatever reason, have lost interest. It's crazy! I'm friendly, I make my best effort at conversation, and I'm a gentleman who pays for everything....and what do I get? Spite?
When I arrived home, I sent this e-mail to my date. Partly because I was a little angry. Partly because I wanted to experiment. Partly because it would give me something to focus on, other than my own apparent failure. And partly because I hoped it might have the miraculous effect of giving me another chance. Here's the final exchange in its entirety:
"Hey Katie. Ok, so I hope you don't take this the wrong way.... regardless of how interested you are or aren't in someone, it's really rude to stay on your cell messages when they're taking you out. I was really annoyed at dinner and torn between letting it go and busting our evening over it...I know no one's perfect, but I feel like everyone knows better than that, so I scarcely even wanted to talk to you. I had my cell on silent, not even vibrate, and never looked at it. But yeah, don't take it the wrong way....I just got to thinking how tired I am going to be tomorrow over someone who couldn't even ignore their cell a few hours for me, and I thought it'd do us both some good for me to tell you this."
"Hey,
"Good luck to you too! I hope you at least had a little fun, and I'm still glad we crossed paths in this world."
I only wish that I could be as cheerful as my final farewell. Cheerful, I am not. I trudged through the workday, exhausted. Beaten down. Depressed.
During that ride home, I'd thought about giving up. I wanted to somehow escape what I was feeling, but there was no way to do it. I was forced to endure life's greatest frustration - wanting desperately to escape myself, but knowing that it was impossible.
Things are clearer now. I know that if I give up, I'll be resigning to live the life I had when I started out in July. I can't live the best years of my life like that. And I know that despite all the heartbreak, I've definitely been making progress. It looks like this last girl wouldn't have liked me for who I actually am, anyway. That, I can live with.
And so, I believe that if I somehow continue this relentless effort, I'm bound to pull this thing off eventually. If it's impossible, I'm going to be the one to prove as much.
During that ride home, I'd thought about giving up. I wanted to somehow escape what I was feeling, but there was no way to do it. I was forced to endure life's greatest frustration - wanting desperately to escape myself, but knowing that it was impossible.
Things are clearer now. I know that if I give up, I'll be resigning to live the life I had when I started out in July. I can't live the best years of my life like that. And I know that despite all the heartbreak, I've definitely been making progress. It looks like this last girl wouldn't have liked me for who I actually am, anyway. That, I can live with.
And so, I believe that if I somehow continue this relentless effort, I'm bound to pull this thing off eventually. If it's impossible, I'm going to be the one to prove as much.
1 comment:
bad news: this kind of dating you are in seems to be the toughest one. as well as one could think there's nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing so with a complete stranger (e.g. you could totally make your personality up), it is also true that people have higher expectations that must be fulfilled in a couple of hours' time. a (blind) date is not about a deep understanding of the other person virtues - I think it is exactly the opposite. you can see at a glance what you don't like about the someone you have in front of you, and as the polite thing would be trying to be nice and go on with the date as if disappointment wouldn't have ocurred, it is often too tiresome. besides, if you are having a bad day, or simply you don't have that much patience, you barely let your boredom hidden. but I suppose taking into account other's feelings would be the correct thing.
I wanna add that confident people do better at this, but of course there's no reason for the rest of us to stop trying to improve at it. Although I definitely think there are better enviroments for getting to know soulmates (at the moment, I'm trying to figure out which).
cheer up. plus, have a little break from that guiness-sort-of record on dating.
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