Over the course of the last 5 days I have come to realize that I simply need to stop dating.
Every year around this time, since my divorce, I go up to Seattle for a couple of days to see a girlfriend and Christmas shop. It’s a wonderful time. My son gets to spend a couple of nights with one of his best friends (so he doesn’t care that I’m out of town), and I get to shop in one of the best cities for shopping, giggle with my girlfriend and on occasion flirt with men. It’s fun and I look forward to it. It officially starts my holiday season.
Before I left I had occasion to officially break up with blue eyes. I hadn’t intended to do it (at least not then), but when he sent me a text that said “if you really cared about me you would either invite me to go with you to Seattle or not go, since I haven’t seen you for 8 days” I was a little shocked. I called him.
One of my pet peeves with him is that he doesn’t call me, he texts me. In the 3 months we’ve been seeing each other I’ve talked to him 4 times on the phone. I did the calling each time and each time it was very unsatisfying. Leading me to believe the reason he texts instead of calls is because he has nothing to say. If you add up all the time spent on the phone during those 4 calls it would not amount to more than 15 minutes, and I’m being generous.
Really. I couldn’t make this shit up.
So I called him. I said “What?!” When he answered the phone. And he repeated word for word what his text said, and added “and the same could be said about Hawaii!” Grown man, 45 years old, has known where I stand with respect to this relationship from the start and he comes up with this.
Again I say. . . you simply can’t make this shit up.
So as pleasantly as I could I said, “I think what we have here has run its course. Thank you for the fun.” And it was done.
He proceeded to text me throughout the two and a half days I was in Seattle.
“Can’t we talk about this,” (I think he meant, can’t we text about this) “I was just being silly,” “I think I’m just jealous,” “I think you’re the one, don’t end this way.” REALLY. He never called me though.
I have not responded and I’ve tried to figure out how to block him from texting me, but I have not been successful. It’s the 5th day since our phone conversation and he’s still texting, but today it was only two texts so I think an end is in sight. I hope.
But that’s not what led to my decision about not dating. Nope. That would be too simple.
On Friday I was back in Portland. While I was in Home Depot trying to figure out which “thingy” I needed to purchase to successfully re-hang the blinds in my bathroom a really nice looking guy (with blonde hair and green eyes no less) helped me figure it out. We subsequently had a nice little flirty conversation wherein it was determined that we were both movie freaks. So he asked me if I wanted to get together and see a movie on Saturday. Yea, well I thought about saying no, but I’m a sucker for blonde hair and green eyes and even though his nose was a little crooked he had a great smile, so I said yes and gave him my number. Lord help me.
He called me later that evening and we had a really fun hour-long conversation and decided we would see J. Edgar. He asked if I was up for having dinner with him before the movie so we could talk and get to know each other better. Why not, sounded reasonable.
I met him at 5 at a nice place that he had chosen down the street from the theater. Good food and nice conversation. The only awkward moment might have been when he asked me what kind of things I liked to eat and I said I was a vegetarian. He said “so you don’t eat beef, well, okay, the chicken is really good here.” Um, okay. Easy mistake. I just took a minute to explain vegetarian equalled no meat, of any kind, and actually I was going through a vegan phase so that meant no anything that came from an animal. He smiled, said “Ohhh,” and seemed to get it. Just an awkward moment, and really it wasn’t awkward for me. I’m use to it.
Turns out he’s an aviation technician for Nike. Works on their Gulf Streams. Been doing it for almost 6 years. I learned he was 44, had been engaged twice, never married, no kids. Originally from Ohio, lived in Texas, California, Hawaii and Texas again before Nike offered him the job and he moved to Ptown. Actually, he doesn’t live in Ptown he lives in Washington, which means he commutes 65 minutes one way to work. Also means if he was planning to date me he’d have to drive about an hour one way to see me. It was all very fascinating. The conversation was good, lots of back and forth, lots of laughter, lots of questions and answers. Good stuff.
We went on to the movie and eh, it was okay. I was actually disappointed. I love Clint Eastwood. I love his acting and I love his directing. Gran Torino, Million Dollar Baby awesome. J. Edgar, not so much. Not at all really. I won’t be recommending it. I had gone to see Happy Feet Two the day before and I’d recommend that before I’d recommend J. Edgar. Figure that one out.
After the movie we were having such a nice time he asked me if I wanted to go have a drink and talk some more. Seemed harmless. We made our way to Romanos and sat in their bar. It was 10, they told us they closed at 11. We didn’t leave until midnight. They cleaned up around us as we talked. Time just whipped by.
We ended up sitting in my car for a bit and he asked me if he could kiss me. Seemed fine and I said yes. The kissing was pleasant, but there was an urgent nature behind it and that seemed weird. But I am a queen at over analyzation. I know and accept this about myself.
So in between kissing we talked. This went on for almost two hours. Problems started to surface in those two hours. The red flags, sirens and all sorts of bells and whistles went up and off during that time. Yet I continued to kiss him because . . . hmmm, why did I continue to kiss him?
I’d like to take this opportunity to blame it on the three mojitos I drank at Romanos. Yeah, that’s the ticket. . .
Here are some highlights from the transcript of our conversation:
After one incredibly long kissing session
Him: Wow. Would you like to go to my company holiday party?
Me: Are you serious? You just met me, I could be psycho.
Him: Yeah, but I’m willing to risk it since your pretty hot and kiss so damn well.
And later . . . after he told me we should date “regular like” (yes, a grown man said “regular like”)
Him: Don’t take this the wrong way but I usually date petite women.
Me: Are you calling me fat?
Him: No, I mean petite like shorter. But I can deal with your height. No worries.
I wondered if I looked worried. . .
I showed him some pictures of my kids with me and my long hair (its short now)
Him: You look good with short hair, but you’re much sexier with long hair I’d say you should grow it out now and quit with the short hair.
I didn’t say anything here. I just looked at him. Like, really? Did you just say that after removing your tongue from down my throat?
I’m pretty sure this is when I started to sober up.
He said some other choice things and still I continued to kiss him . . . and then . . .
Me: Have you ever dated a black woman before?
Him: No. But to be honest, there aren’t any drop dead gorgeous black women that I’ve ever seen . . . [pause] . . . other than you.
Uh, yeah. He said that. Really.
You. Can’t. Make. This. Shit. Up.
Now, I realize that he probably thought he was giving me a compliment and that it wasn’t meant to be racist, just like “some of my best friends are black” isn’t meant to be racist. But c’mon.
He didn’t get to kiss me again after that.
I needed to go home and he needed to start his 60 minute-no-gorgeous-black-women-drive to his house.
He said he would call me about the holiday party. The Nike holiday party. Being held at one awesome and amazing winery out near my house. I said okay, and I meant it. Because as I drove home I rationalized that this may be my only opportunity to ever go to a Nike party. As a long time resident of Nike Town, it’s a well known fact that Phil Knight appreciates his employees and can throw one hell of a party. . . I’m pretty sure it’ll be fun.
Rationalize, rationalize, rationalize.
In 35 days, 5 weeks exactly, I will board a plane for Hawaii.
I’m pretty sure I will be single, I will be happy and I will not be the only “drop dead gorgeous” black woman on the island.
I just need to stop while I’m ahead and enjoy this peaceful journey.