I’ve always been one to take things slow. Case in point, I’m 32 and still in college. I like to space things out in my life. This includes dating– especially online dating.
On average, when meeting men online I like to exchange email for a couple of weeks before meeting them face-to-face. A few friends have pointed out how much time and emotion I waste doing this. Therefore, I decided the next time a man suggested we meet right away, I would agree.
After only one day of emailing a particular man we agreed to meet for coffee. He filled the prerequisites of having a job and hair, so I figured he couldn’t be all that bad.
Five minutes into the casual ‘date’ I was contemplating sending out an SOS text to all my friends begging them for an emergency call. Though, out of guilt, I didn’t. Sitting on a hard wooden seat, I tried to carry on a conversation with this man whom I knew I could never date. Sometimes you just know. Sure, we had quite a few things in common, but in person he just irritated me. It was all rather disappointing.
I sat there being interrogated by this man and found myself not wanting to share any personal information. That’s never a good sign. I answered all his questions as ambiguously as I could. This wasn’t good enough for him and he continued trying to needle more information out of me. (Note to all men: if the woman you are with doesn’t want to answer your questions, take the hint and STOP ASKING HER!)
Still looking for an out, I saw a friend of a friend walk by and waved at him. To the untrained observer it looked like the typical “hey, what’s up” wave, but really it was a plea to be saved. If only he could have thrown me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and run like hell.
In all fairness, my date seemed like a nice enough man: well-educated, handsome, and amazing eyes. Without a doubt, he’s man worthy of meeting the parents. Of course you’d have to drive separately to avoid listening to him laugh at everything that comes out of his mouth.
Forty-five of the longest minutes of my life passed and we finally parted ways. I walked out knowing I never wanted to see this man again, let alone date him. I’m nearly positive he felt the same way. I’m sure I came across seeming cold and uninterested. I felt like a failure for wasting his time and mine and promised myself next time to have a phone conversation before meeting. He had, in fact, suggested this, but I’m not really a phone person so I opted to just meet first. I have no one but myself to blame.
If dating makes me want to be a teenage girl and cut myself in the bathroom to numb the emotional pain, perhaps it’s time to take a break for a while. I’d consider taking time off, but I have another coffee date in an hour. Here’s to hoping this one is better!