Warning: I get a little pissy.
Yep, the whole dating scheme is just a bunch of overrated exaggerated hoopla that typically ends up being a waste of time, a waste of money, a waste of effort, and you have to wear shoes most of the time, which really places dating into the same category as grinding teeth or being caught in a rainstorm with someone who just had their hair done and all they can do is bitch about it. No wait, I would rather get caught in a rainstorm with my best friend Jeannie and listen to her bitch about her damn hair than to go on a date. At least with Jeannie, I don't have to wear shoes, I don't have to be polite. I don't have to pretend to laugh at her jokes. I don't have to compliment her, talk about her job, ask her questions about things I don't really give a damn about, and oh yeah, I don't have to end up calling Jeannie to have her come running up to me in a cafe where I preplanned to have the date meet me so she can pretend she's my sister and there's a family emergency that simply can't wait - - with Jeannie I can fart and not even apologize; I won't be dating anytime soon.
You read my blog, so you know I like to people watch. I plop myself down with a cup of coffee and a bagel sometimes and just watch the people at the cafe, at the store, at the lake, wherever. This weekend I decided to go to a pizza restaurant, a pretty popular one, and yeah, I took Jeannie because I didn't want to stare at people too openly or too obviously. She can carry on a conversation with a napkin or a fork if she has to, and she knows I'll at least glance over once or twice, nod my head and pretend I'm listening. Today's experiment was to find a couple who were on their first or second date, to watch them, to see if they were bothered by one another, what was bothering them, what they had to overcome in order to make it to "the next level" and/or whether or not either of them cared really, and there was just some sort of an understanding that the dinner was just part of the routine, with the end of the evening being the end of their relationship for whatever reason. Cynical? No, not really, I've been watching people for a very long time and it all boils down to about the same four or five patterns in the beginning - - now the third, fourth, or fifth date may bring about more gifting, more laughing, less questioning, and more cell phones. Yeah, by the fifth date both sides are pulling out the cell every five minutes to check on something.
Take this couple over on the right; he's about 40 she's about 27 and both of them have kids. I can tell because he's checked his watch a couple of times and she's checked her cell phone, but both are trying to hide the fact that they either need to check on the kids, or they have a limited amount of time to actually be out without having to overpay the sitter. These days some people are lucky enough to have parents or siblings to watch their kids for the all-too-important getting back out there sort of date, you know. What happens when it becomes obvious that these two may actually start liking one another and want to spend weekends and evenings together? Family ties fall off, babysitters become so much harder to come by, and those fantasies of spending quality time together fly out the window if either of them thought they would be sharing it alone, just the two of them. Nope. Not with "every-other-weekend" duty and/or drop-offs, family, ex-inlaws, unpaid bills that don't and won't care if you want to have a nice dinner once in a while, and then there's the question of who actually knows anyone who will be willing to watch the kids on a consistent basis so the two of you can get to know each other? It's no wonder the 2nd (3rd and 4th) marriages are usually rushed into, and usually end up in the toilet. Cynical? No, not really, same answer as before.
So back to the couple on the right. He had to work a bit later than he expected so he rushed home, kissed his mom on the top of the head thanking her for coming over early and watching his two kids, threw on a new shirt, kept on the same jeans he wore to work, the same boots and socks. He ran a comb through his hair, checked his beard, and stache and gave a sigh. She'll either take it or she won't. He's paying for dinner, right? If she doesn't like him the way he is, she can date someone else. That's what he's thinking anyway, but he has to hurry and get out to Hideaway Pizza, he told her he'd meet her there at 6:00 p.m. and it's Friday. If he wants to get in the joint he needs to be at least 15 minutes early.
She was waiting when he pulled into the drive, but she didn't know what he drove. She had only seen his picture online and they had zoomed once, but her camera wasn't really working. He looked like a blurry bear sort of; she was hoping he wouldn't be as thick as he looked on camera, she had been working pretty diligently at keeping herself in shape. She never really thought about it until just now, but what if he's really fat? She saw him stepping out of his truck and thought almost out loud that she had no idea he was a conservative and this evening may or may not be their last encounter. He saw her and thought the blue streak in her hair would probably go away in time; it's just hair, right? (and just so you know sweetheart, he's not fat, he's perfectly round! There is a difference. He's a man, not a boy.)
You see where that scenario is going - - it's just one of countless (endless really) things that can and do occur when you decide to "get back out there" and date again. Maybe you have friends who will set you up with their friends, or you found someone the old-fashioned way; in a chat room online! You decide that this is it! You're going to get out there, mingle, mix it up, get to know what your options are, and be yourself this time. Does that really happen? Let me know if it does because so far I'm the only person I know who would act the way I do on any given day - - I won't bathe, dress up, slather on makeup and pretend I like you just so you'll pay for a $15.00 meal; I have my own credit card, thank you. Those poor souls who are dating today must have the patience of Job; something I definitely do not have. I wouldn't date again if YOUR life depended on it, let alone my own.
The thing is, people who are dating have already been dating, and wherever it is that you step into their frame with your first date scenario, you're just that, a first date. You're automatically on probation, you're interrogated (hopefully politely), and you're sized up, given an assessment if you will, and then you're either allowed to move forward, where you'll be competing with those others she/he have been dating longer, i.e. the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th time, and what if, what if you are championed and rewarded that all-too-exciting 2nd encounter? Do you step up your game to enter the competition for affection? Do you bring gifts? Do you act more this or that? Do you take her/him somewhere different and unique to prove you're worthy of yet a third trial by fire? God forbid you jump the gun and end up the only person the other person is dating because you will be compared to the last failure over and over again rather than just being one of the potential successes - - now you're a target waiting for the shoe to drop. (it always drops)
Dating today takes too long, it costs too much, it is a failed investment at every turn and on every level. You start out with a lie, pretending you are more than you are, more than you could be, and you pretend you care when you don't. If I'm wrong, please, please tell me - - that would be so refreshing. The truth is, I am the lucky one and I know it. I may be the meanest woman on the face of God's green Earth, but at least I'm honest, I don't have STDs, and I've not been lying about my height, weight, job, family, sex life, favorite team, or the fact that my horse will spend more time with me than you ever will because my horse never once lies about his height, weight, job, family, food habits, riding abilities, or his lack of interest in whatever it is that I do with the rest of the time when he doesn't see me. He never once not once has he EVER asked me if I rode another horse before him. He hasn't and doesn't care if I ride another horse tomorrow. He wouldn't give one rat's ass if I chose to kiss another horse right in front of his face as long as I had an apple for him, a scoop of grain in his stall, and I remembered to brush him out after I rode him pretty hard -- you never want to leave a horse sweaty. Just FYI.
Dating is for the rest of the world but not for me. I don't have kids to worry about now, but damn, can you just imagine the stress and wear on one's soul and brain, the constant taxing of one's wits if they had to deal with not only their brood but the other people's kids too? Trying to blend, trying to make things work, and there's the whole thing about not introducing them to you until you're sure it's going to last, but how in the hell can you be sure of that unless you meet them and get along with them first? It's a cycle, it's a nasty-nasty cycle, and I thank God every day for the barn - - for my horse. He may have kids, I don't know, he never told me, I never asked. He knows I have one or two, but again, he just doesn't blink - - we get it. We know our roles.
Friday night, after the pizza, after an hour or so of watching the couple to my right, I did decide that she would have given him another shot at it had he taken the time to change out of his work clothes altogether. Being clean was too important to her. She made some sort of comment about his beard needing to be shaved, or she wondered what he would look like without it. I'm not lying, I almost walked over to their table, offering to pay for the dinner and then inviting the poor man over to our table so he could fart, burp, tell us about his stupid co-workers and how great his mom is for taking the girls off his hands so he could meet someone new; even if she did turn out to be a bit too liberal for his taste. I restrained myself, but that beard was working me over. To think she wanted him to cut it - - I wanted to scream. Jeannie nodded at me, picked up her fork, pretended to be Ariel, and comb her hair with it for a second, just to see if I was paying attention to her - - she's such a girl sometimes.
I won't date. I may marry someone, but I will never date them.
Photo Credit: Litehouse Foods
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