Man #3, No Show Man

3 03 2011

Ok, I’m starting to notice a pattern here. My therapist told me that I’m supposed to be looking for a Jewish doctor or his Gentile, income level producing equivalent, but two out of three of my dates so far have been with African-American teachers with good teeth and dimples.   Remember, the Blues Man was a special needs teacher by day and musician by night. 

Man #3 was bi-racial, but race wasn’t the important factor here.  The important thing to note was that he was also a teacher, and we all know teachers don’t make any money.  A Jewish doctor he was not. 

I don’t want to make it sound like I’m a gold-digger.  I’m really not.  Anyone accusing me of this could take one look at my partner history to notice that I have a tendency to take in strays and rescues with NO money and NO retirement strategies whatsoever.  I actually NEED someone to help me with my gold-digger skills, a gold-digger mentor.  I only note income here, because I was under strict doctor’s orders to try to find someone different this time.

I decided to go on a date with Man #3, because, like me, he said he was new to the online dating site Plentyoffish.  Like me, he said he didn’t know what to expect, but he was open to just meeting new people.  That sounded good.  He seemed like a kindred spirit of sorts.

And he was cute.  In fact, this was another disturbing pattern I noticed.  He looked a little too much like my ex-husband.  Dark hair, dark eyes, goatee, mischievous smile.  Maybe this is what made me view him with a little suspicion.

The nice thing was, he didn’t take long to suggest that we go on a date.  After the second email, Man #3 said he thought we should get together and make each other our first date.  He was my third date in all, but he would be the first date produced from the Plentyoffish online dating site.

He had stated on his profile that his ideal first date would be coffee or a walk through a park where we could talk.  This also made him sound a little cheap, but since I was feeling a little edgey because he looked like my ex, I told him to meet my pit bull and I at the park for a walk.  This way I figured if the date was a bust, at least my dog and I would get our exercise.

This is the point where a man who is uncomfortable around animals, or who doesn’t know shit about what makes a good dog, might have been scared off by my pittie.   He got points for not reacting, however, by simply saying, “Nice. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” 

I arrived at the park five minutes early so I could allow poop time.  Not for me, for my dog.  You see, one of the things my dog needs to do as soon as he arrives at any park is go number two.  It doesn’t matter if he just went before getting in the car.  He has to poop before we get on the trail.  It’s a marking thing.  He’s on a mission to spread his scent as far and wide as possible.  Sounds like some men I know.

Anyway, I realize that’s too much information.  The point is I did not want Man #3 to witness this routine, nor did I want him to see me handling a poop bag upon introducing myself.  A plastic bag of steaming shit is not a flattering accessory to have on a first date.

Once that routine was safely out of the way, my dog and I waited, and waited.  My dog loves to play with sticks, so I wasted some time holding them shoulder height above the ground as he jumped up to grab them. 

And, we waited and waited and waited some more.

Finally, after playing with sticks for 20 minutes, I figured we had been stood up, and my dog and I started around the 3.3 mile loop trail.   The weather had been sunny when we started, but about a mile into the loop, it started to POUR.  It was one of those crazy days when the sun is shining, the rain is pouring, and there is a rainbow sitting there as if to say, “It’s ok that he stood you up.  Don’t be pissed.  At least you’re getting your exercise.”  Fucking Pacific Northwest weather!

And, it rained and rained and rained.  And, that rainbow?   Yeah, it eventually went away and was replaced by wind gusts across the lake that sprayed water into my face like needles.  Even my normally happy dog started to freak out from the weather.

A question that has risen a couple of times already during this process came up again.  How the hell exactly is this dating shit supposed to be good for my self-esteem?  I seriously did not know.  Being stood up is just one of the many things men do that causes women to opt-out for relationships with their cats.

I decided I would try to withhold judgment until I could get home and check my email.

The dog and I finally made it back to the car, and made our way home.  On the way home, the sun started to come out again.  Fucking Pacific Northwest weather!  I HATE you rainbow!!!

As soon as I got in the door of my house, I started peeling off wet clothes.  I was soaked all the way through my winter coat, hat and scarf, through my t-shirt to my skin.  My jeans were heavy with the water they had collected.  Everything had to come off.  My hair was wet, tangled and a disaster. Maybe it was a good thing No Show Man hadn’t seen me like this afterall.

I started to make lunch and then sat down to check my email.  There it was, an email sent about an hour before from No Show Man saying that he had gone to the wrong entrance to the park.  It included his phone number and in it he said he was still at the park.  He had arrived at our meeting point only a few minutes after I had started out on the trail.

I phoned, and he asked if I would like to try to meet again.  He said, “I guess we should have exchanged numbers before going out.”

“Yeah, well, lesson learned.  We’re new at this online dating thing.”  I told him I would not be able to meet him for the rest of the week, but we could try to meet up again in about five days.  He took it, we set a date, and I’ll give him another chance to show up.

I’m ranking this date as a No Decision on the Dating Prescription Scoreboard.  If No Show Man had straight up stood me up, it would have been a fail, but his email beat me home.  I did, however, put him in my cell phone as “No Show Man.’

I’ll give him another shot.  If all else fails, at least the dog and I will get our exercise.


%d bloggers like this: