In one of my previous posts, I wrote about my fledgling attempts at building a love life and learning the true meaning of "just stay single, you're hair won't gray as fast." The idea of finding that someone special to cuddle up with or who won't laugh when he hears the bathroom scales moan when I step on them has turned into more of a curvy Grand Prix. You gotta learn to steer clear of the obstacles and pray that you don't get sideswiped by one of the other nuts on the road.
I've dated several times since entering back into the scene. And since that moment, I decided that I have yet to find the best pool to swim in. Trying to find someone decent to date is like find a parking space at the mall on the day after Thanksgiving. It can take a long time, be frustrating, and you may reach the point where you're better off just going home. However, you keep on trying. And trying. And trying. Until it becomes trying.
One rule that I've always followed -- I'll date anyone once. And usually once is enough. During my brief stint back out into the dating field, I've encountered some very interesting characters. Most not interesting enough to date again, but enough fodder to talk about the experience for weeks to come. And perhaps even to name a dance after them.
One of my recent endeavors involved a millennial. You know that newer generation who've been criticized for too much self-absorption, self-fascination, and mighty-high level of sense of entitlement. Gee, I didn't experience any of that on my date. (Eyes rolling.)
I've nick-named this particular date "The Twenty-Seven-Year-Old-Going-On-Eighteen." I felt a very high sense that the college days of partying hadn't ended at graduation. While I nursed a scotch and soda the entire time, he proceeded to down three large bourbon and cokes in three hours. The evening ended great -- I planned on never seeing him again, at least not in the dating sense. I realized that the rule of "dating anyone once" maybe wasn't such a good idea. Let me scratch that one from the rules.
It wasn't the last time that I saw him. The next time I ran into him eventually was dubbed "The 501 Incident." I didn't realize the simple statements and questions of "Hey! What are you doing out tonight? Meeting Friends? Waiting for a date?" would be equated to an interrogation by Attila the Hun. I was told "That's a rather personal question." Wow! If I'd of known, I would have rethought that "Hey" part. From there, the conversation proceeded to a set of simple statements like "It's cold outside," "It might snow," to "Yes, the moon is out tonight." Just can't wait to hear the sequel.
The peak of the conversation came early. (Thank god for that.) I said to him "Well perhaps I shouldn't talk to you anymore since I'm obviously invading your privacy too much." The return response was priceless. An action that would give me many weeks of joyous child-like giggles. What proceeded was as follows: He busted a dance move which involved cupped palm-up hands, swaying his arms back and forth like balancing scales, while saying "That's a little extreme. Going from talking to me to not talking to me." Very few times have I ever been struck speechless. This was one. Let me add this time to my list.
When I told my friends about this, their mouths gaped just like mine did that night. At work, we even turned it into a dance, set to a similar tune of The Hustle. People who saw us performing would comment that we "had our dance moves on." The dance began to spread throughout the building and before I knew it everyone was doing it. Cupped hands, swaying back and forth to the groove, and occasionally stopping and saying "That's a little extreme." Little to my knowledge did I know that my simple statement of "Hey" would turn into the latest dance craze. Amazing. Such a cultural influence. Perhaps it will eventually be seen on "Dancing with the Stars" or "So You Think You Can Dance."
To use a cliche, back to the dating drawing board.
CSM
I've dated several times since entering back into the scene. And since that moment, I decided that I have yet to find the best pool to swim in. Trying to find someone decent to date is like find a parking space at the mall on the day after Thanksgiving. It can take a long time, be frustrating, and you may reach the point where you're better off just going home. However, you keep on trying. And trying. And trying. Until it becomes trying.
One rule that I've always followed -- I'll date anyone once. And usually once is enough. During my brief stint back out into the dating field, I've encountered some very interesting characters. Most not interesting enough to date again, but enough fodder to talk about the experience for weeks to come. And perhaps even to name a dance after them.
One of my recent endeavors involved a millennial. You know that newer generation who've been criticized for too much self-absorption, self-fascination, and mighty-high level of sense of entitlement. Gee, I didn't experience any of that on my date. (Eyes rolling.)
I've nick-named this particular date "The Twenty-Seven-Year-Old-Going-On-Eighteen." I felt a very high sense that the college days of partying hadn't ended at graduation. While I nursed a scotch and soda the entire time, he proceeded to down three large bourbon and cokes in three hours. The evening ended great -- I planned on never seeing him again, at least not in the dating sense. I realized that the rule of "dating anyone once" maybe wasn't such a good idea. Let me scratch that one from the rules.
It wasn't the last time that I saw him. The next time I ran into him eventually was dubbed "The 501 Incident." I didn't realize the simple statements and questions of "Hey! What are you doing out tonight? Meeting Friends? Waiting for a date?" would be equated to an interrogation by Attila the Hun. I was told "That's a rather personal question." Wow! If I'd of known, I would have rethought that "Hey" part. From there, the conversation proceeded to a set of simple statements like "It's cold outside," "It might snow," to "Yes, the moon is out tonight." Just can't wait to hear the sequel.
The peak of the conversation came early. (Thank god for that.) I said to him "Well perhaps I shouldn't talk to you anymore since I'm obviously invading your privacy too much." The return response was priceless. An action that would give me many weeks of joyous child-like giggles. What proceeded was as follows: He busted a dance move which involved cupped palm-up hands, swaying his arms back and forth like balancing scales, while saying "That's a little extreme. Going from talking to me to not talking to me." Very few times have I ever been struck speechless. This was one. Let me add this time to my list.
When I told my friends about this, their mouths gaped just like mine did that night. At work, we even turned it into a dance, set to a similar tune of The Hustle. People who saw us performing would comment that we "had our dance moves on." The dance began to spread throughout the building and before I knew it everyone was doing it. Cupped hands, swaying back and forth to the groove, and occasionally stopping and saying "That's a little extreme." Little to my knowledge did I know that my simple statement of "Hey" would turn into the latest dance craze. Amazing. Such a cultural influence. Perhaps it will eventually be seen on "Dancing with the Stars" or "So You Think You Can Dance."
To use a cliche, back to the dating drawing board.
CSM
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