Sock Puppet Theatre

Sometimes actions speak louder than words.

Names have been changed to protect the typical.

Name of Date: Doctor Man

Date #: 3

Title of Last Date: Pinch Me I Must Be Dreaming

Amount of Time Between Dates: 2 weeks

What Happened: I know it's been like over a year since I wrote about my first date with Doctor Man so if you need to go re-familiarize yourself with what happened, be my guest.

Done?

Are you leaking with anticipation to know how things worked out? Well change your square-cut 2-xist trunks with pouch enhancement and continue reading...

Our second date was pretty standard, so I skipped a boring description of walking through the art museum and milkshakes despite it being a highly adorable date. Onto date 3!

Doctor Man informed me he'd found a movie in the $5 bin at Wal-Mart that sounded good so I should come over and watch it. I told him that sounded lovely as long as we could play scrabble first. This was at the beginning of my scrabble renaissance aided by the ability to play scrabulous on facebook. Remember that? Then Hasbro had to be a dick and ruin our fun. I was also excited because the $5 bin of movies at Wal-Mart was a college tradition. Find the lamest awfulest worstest sounding movie and then buy it and get drunk while watching it and making fun of it. I was pleased he had the same taste in judgmental fun.

When I get to his GORGEOUS house I am a bit taken aback when a 40 year old woman with a really bad face lift opens the door. Housekeeper? Is my first thought. Patient suing for malpractice over botched cosmetic surgery come to strangle him? Is my second. Seriously... it was. And that option would have been more acceptable than the truth; Mother. Um... you're a doctor and you live with your mom? I cannot even. Why? His explanation was something to do with her divorce and money and other shit that didn't really make sense. Plus his assurance that "the whole upstairs was his" didn't really make this situation sound temporary... or impressive. I half expected a "No Girl's Allowed" sign on his door. Or a pillow fort.

We begin by playing scrabble. I seriously love this game because I rule at it. I never expect to win, but I enjoy dominating the other player and making them feel the sad sorrow of loss. However, Doctor Man, didn't even put up a fight. There was no effort it was all CAT and HOME and excitement over landing on the lame-ass double letter score with a vowel. SERIOUSLY?! You are a DOCTOR! Or are you? I am beginning to doubt your credentials since you live with your mom and cannot put more than 3 tiles down at a time on this board. I slaughter him, obvi. But he is not phased. Just excited to watch the movie.

He pops it in and let me just give you a rundown of the premise:

Satan has taken control of purgatory so God his sending his Arch Angels to defeat him and restore order there. Except all the angels are dying because they get depressed and can't overcome the despair there? It's very Blade Runner is purgatory apparently. Also there are guns. Heaven guns. That are used to kill demons? God has sent Gabriel as his last hope to defeat Satan and Gabriel is this ripped no-shirt wearing bad-ass who fucks a LOT of fallen girl angels along the way. In the end of the movie we realize Michael (another arch angel) is actually Satan (what?) and Gabriel defeats him with God Guns because plausible. I wish I could remember the name of this abomination.

Sounds HILARIOUS right? Like give me a bottle of wine and I will laugh my ass off through this thing. But Doctor Man is taking this shit seriously. He wants to cuddle and is actually drawn in by the story. THIS. THIS!? He struggled through an episode of It's Always Sunny... with me and didn't laugh once! We clearly have very different ideas about what is entertaining and his ideas are clearly wrong and bad.

We make it through the whole movie without him laughing once and me trying so hard to contain my guffaws over the bad dialogue/gratuitous ab shots. No Angel-Homo. But at least it's over and we can get to the main attraction. 3rd date first time sex with mom in the house.... yes. Arguably the 83rd best type of sex EVER.

Our makeouts bring us to the bedroom where we fall on the bed and clothes begin to methodically come off. I forget if I mentioned in the last post but this guy has seriously phenomenal abs. And the insanely mouth-watering sex v. All hangups about his mother and the bad taste in cinema are overshadowed by his body and the fact THAT HE IS A DOCTOR. Much can be forgiven for a hot guy with money plus fire crotch. This euphoria lasts only a moment though when he neglects to remove his socks.

Now I know this isn't a big deal, but it is an indication of something larger. You make think the removal of socks isn't necessary for sex, and that fixating on it is stupid and picky, but let me teach you something right now. The choice to not remove socks during sex is a huge insult. It says, you are not worth the time for me to fully undress. It says, I'm kind of tired and lazy so you're going to be doing most of the work right now. It says, I know I look ridiculous, but I don't care, I'm only in this to get off. By not removing socks a person is essentially telling you that your encounter doesn't mean much to them. Think about it. It's true and you know it.

And I was right. He lay there for most of it expecting me to do all the work. It was brief and didn't last long. I found it incredibly disappointing. The only time he rose up off the bed was his moment of climax (and sorry if this is too personal/gross) so that it could land on me. A clearly demeaning action. I don't want to get all feminist and preachy on you guys, but his subtle actions spoke volumes about how he really felt about me.

I left feeling pretty gross and unsatisfied. But I was polite enough to not mention that to his mother who offered me a beverage before I walked out the door.

Gained Points for: His Body

Lost Points for: His misogynist actions

Mistakes I Made: Castrating him in scrabble? But he didn't even really mind that!

Chances for Another Date: I'm not sure. We need to have a serious talk about what and what isn't good sex first.

Overall Grade: D

But I Gotta Kn-Kn-Kn-Know Wha-What's Your Strat-te-tegy?

Sometimes Alltimes I forget to wear my poker face.

Names have been changed to protect the exhausting.

Name of Date: Shoulda Coulda Woulda

Date #: 1

Looks Like: A straight up 4 on Facebook, but a solid 7 in person. Some people do not photograph well. Also buzzed head and gap toothed. But cute cap toothed not hillbilly gap toothed.

Occupation: Environmental Protecting Tree-Hugging something or other business.

Where We Met: So I had just moved to DC. It was literally my 2nd day living here. I had spent the day running numerous errands to get my new licence, buy stuff for my place, etc. I was exhausted and just wanted to spend the evening in. However one my friends was so excited I was finally in town that he invited me out for dinner with a few of his friends. I reluctantly agree on the basis that I need to meet people and it's lameass barfo to just stay home on a Friday night.

When I get to the thai place my friend is there and introduces me to his friends. One of them is this very nice deaf guy. Oh man it is so hard to not make Helen Keller jokes. I am evilsauce. The other is Shoulda Coulda Woulda. I immediately think he is cute and make a mental note to be as charming and flirty as possible. Then I remember... "oh wait... THAT IS ALREADY HOW I LIVE MY LIFE EVERY MOMENT OF THE DAY AND NIGHTTIMES!" So it wasn't hard to do. Plus meeting my husband the 2nd day I moved to DC would be a phenoms story.

Throughout dinner SCW launches into several impassioned speeches on different political topics. He is incredibly well spoken and is not afraid to offend people. He tells the deaf guy that being blind is worse than being deaf. Whoa. Bold move there, buddy. But I'm always attracted to gusto and just saying whats on your mind. Also I'm still going through my assholes are hot phase. It is the WORST. Anybody have a cure for that?

As dinner nears it's end SCW suggests we all head to this gay club because it is free vodka from 11pm to Midnight. A drunk homo says what? what? I am there. Our clan begins the 5 day walk to this place. Ok it was more like 30 minutes, but I am not used to walking cities yet and I wanted to die and was wearing flip flops. There was so much sweating and frowning happening I'm surprised they didn't just leave me on the side of the road or donate me to a homeless man. "Here. Take this. He is a mess."

However on the walk there SCW and I share a phenomenal conversation about his faith, about what he wants to do, about how we have so much in common. It is spectacular. I really like him. This convo continues all night at the club. We ignore everyone else and are entirely fixated on one another as we down our free vodka and cranberries. I tease him all night pointing out the ugliest guys saying "oh man. i wish he was MY boyfriend." And he chuckles politely and says "Then I wish I was him." WHAT?! Hardcore flirting has been achieved. I have been given the green light for thigh grabbing/nonchalant/"unintentional" crotch-brushing. His hand is either on the small of my back or in my pocket for the REST OF THE EVENING. I love those blatant gestures of ownership. A gay club is one of the few places I enjoy feeling like property. yessuh.

We leave the club and he walks me back to the metro. We exchange numbers and I can tell he wants to kiss me, but instead we share a long hug. I am ecstatic. The next day he texts me and asks if he can take me to dinner. UM OBVIOS!

What Happened: OK! So the "real" first date begins. We meet up and he takes me to this burger place that is kinda ok but also kind touristy. I don't mind to much since it's my 3rd day in the city and everything is new. Dinner conversation seems kind of forced, and I'm curious as to why. We both have plenty to discuss and there isn't ever a lull, it just didn't feel natural like it did the night before. I blame this on the absence of liquor to lubricate things. Luuuuuubricate. Heh.

After dinner he takes me on a tour of most of the monuments. It's actually really great to have a personal tour guide and not do this alone with some map. I can tell he enjoys being in charge and taking control. I'll take Dom Top for $1000, Alex. I am beginning to think maybe I should write a gay glossary for all you non heteros who follow this. Or maybe enforce some required reading before indulging in these posts. Does a Gay Encyclopedia exist? Probs.

The monuments are especially beautiful at night. Do people know this? I think people must know this. But if you do not know this I am telling you now. During our walking tour the conversation does get better. We discuss our high school histories, our families, our future plans. And while everything is great intellectually, I do not feel the same interest from him that I was feeling last night. There are no lingering touches and no longing looks. I decide in my mind that he felt he was coming on too strong last night and that he needs some re-assuring from me that I am interested.

"you know what the world needs? another musical about vampires!"

-frank wildhorn

What follows is an account of how i play the game. I wish I could say this was abnormal:

While at the tidal basin:

Me: I really am looking for something serious. A guy I could raise kids with

SCW: I don't want kids

While at the reflecting pool:

Me: (Reaching for his hand)

SCW: (Folding my arms is necessary right now)

While at the FDR memorial:

Me: You are so cute

SCW: (Pretends not to hear)

While at the Jefferson memorial:

Me: So I really like you

SCW: Do you need help finding the metro to get home?

ALL OF THESE THINGS are clear indicators that he is not interested. And dejected I finally get the hint. He it not prince charming. He is not what I hoped he would be. Hopes dashed. Then as he is walking me to the metro he says "Actually. I should take you home. Make sure you get there alright. Maybe see your place?"

It clicks in my head. This has been a different game all along. The more I show interest, the more he pulls away. I'm on some fucked up see-saw and I need to find the perfect balance to keep him interested. Being crazy mcmarry me please isnt' doing me any favors, but aloof asshole might. I tell him he can do whatever he wants which he responds to with getting onto the metro with me.

When we get to my place I take him up to my room and prepare for groping/makeouts. As I lean in to kiss him he pulls away and says "I should go." he was in my room for less than 4 minutes. No joke. Why even bother coming in? I tipped the scale too far, I suppose. As I walk him out he says he'll call me tomorrow. I do not have high hopes.

Gained Points for: His initial interest and charming behavior

Lost Point for: Being wishy-washy and making it too difficult for courting to actually happen. Being afraid I'll say too much or not saying enough is psychologically damaging! Plus I hate the game. I hate it so much.

Mistakes I Made: Playing the game. It' like Jumanji. Once you start you gotta finish and most of the time someone ends up a crazy bearded guy stalking you and begging you to help him. Amiright?

Chances for Another Date: If he calls, of course I will.

Overall Grade: C+

There are Shouldn'ts and Shoulds

Sometimes Stephen Sondheim needs to write songs about my life.

Names have been changed to protect the fated.

Name of Date: Happenstance

Date #:1

Looks Like: Your outdoorsy flag football playing owning several dogs driving a jeep flannel boxer wearing type.

Occupation: Owns his own business making custom windows for different buildings. Apparently that is a thing. I mean obviously that is a thing, but who actually meets those people? Me.

Where We Met: So on my way to "Enough About Me" (which was one of my more popular posts. thanks so much fans and fanettes) I am getting off of the metro and heading up the escalator when I see Happenstance and very nonchalantly check him out. And by nonchalantly, I mean staring like he's not wearing any clothes. He's very attractive and chiseled and dreamy pants. I try not to be so obvious about my interest, but I can't help it. He notices and smiles and we begin some hardcore eye sex. Like my eyes were like "oh hey." and His eyes were like "sup" and then our eyes just stared making out in the middle of the room and dry humping each other while the other eyes around were like "gross."

So his literal eyes, not our metaphoric thrusting ones, follow me all the way up the escalator and makes me feel cute and desired and gives me confidence for the date I'm about to go on.

Which was obviously awful.

On the way back home I am upset that I wasted an evening and think "I should have just followed that guy wherever he was going." And lo and behold I pass him again as I'm heading down into the metro. I couldn't believe it. The odds are one in five billion. He sees me and just laughs and asks "did you plan this?" I can barely contain my glee and confirm that no, I did not stalk him. We chat for a brief moment before I hear my train coming and run to catch it. And like an idiot I do not get a number. All I have is first name.

On the train ride home my brain switches between the lyrics of "Moments in the Woods" and "Steps of the Palace." Because I feel like some sort of gay Cinderella. Cinderfella if you will. The way that movie SHOULD HAVE BEEN. Also singing Into the Woods to myself on the metro is one of the gayest things I've done. But feeling a cross between the baker's wife and Cinderella is a pretty damn cool feeling.

So what is our culture's slipper as pure as gold? Craigslist missed connections, baby. or grindr I supposed. For all you heteros... don't ask. (don't tell.) So many gay jokes! Regardless once I am home I check the missed connections and sure enough there is a posting for little old silly me. We exchange numbers and set a time to meet up for coffee the next day. Hooray sometimes the world is full of amazing moments and the starts just align and everything is right. That's when you know you're fucked.

What Happened: So the next day I'm all excited about our date and tell everyone about the amazing way we met. A perfect mixture of fairy tale coincidence mixed with technology's help. A modern parable.

As the day goes on we are texting and he tells me he has to have dinner with his sister so our date might need to end early. I am ok with this and impressed that he is close with his family because that is something I am not. I'm also grateful he told me and didn't just end things prematurely with me wondering what I did wrong.

When I arrive at starbucks we have about an hour of time before he needs to leave. I wait. and wait. and wait. After 20 minutes I call him to see what's up. Apparently traffic is so bad that he cannot find a parking space. So I keep waiting and waiting and waiting. By the time he walks in the door we legit have 15 minutes before he has to leave again. I'm annoyed but invigorated by the challenge to impress someone in limited time. It will be like a one round speed date.

We begin with the usual get to know you things. Happenstance is very kind and polite and communicative which I like and tips me off to the fact that he's probably older than I think he is. I don't mind this. Dating older dudes is the next step. If he's in his 30s that wouldn't bother me. There is a baby at the table next to us and he can't stop staring. He is enthralled by her, which I find adorable. I can tell he wants kids... and soon. Which makes me think... ok maybe mid 30s? I would be mostly ok with that. Suddenly I notice the beginnings of grey hairs on his temple. How old IS he? I begin to worry and come out with

"So is it rude to ask how old you are?"

"No. 42."

"I'm sorry I wasn't asking for the answer to the meaning of life. I wanted to know your age."

"42."

..............

I am on a date with a FORTY-TWO YEAR OLD MAN. I am that guy. I mean am I that guy? Have I transitioned to the point where I can no longer tell who is older than 30 and eliminate them from being considered? Am I resolving my messed up daddy issues. Am I SERIOUSLY out with some guy 17 years older than me who was already having sex with dudes when I was in kindergarten? In an instant the Sondheim song changes to "Hello Little Girl (Boy)."

It is time for him to leave. I am so grateful for the time constraint because I cannot wrap my head around the fact that the universe clearly wants me to date this guy. This very older guy who will be 60 when I am 38 and probably still very hot and good looking. I walk him to his car confused as all hell and wonder If I need to add "daddies" to my interests on my online profile. Again you heteros don't EVEN wanna know.

Gained Points for: Being polite and kind and respectable

Lost Points for: Looking 10 years younger than he really was

Mistakes I Made: Being agist? Is that really a mistake though? Sometimes dealbreakers are just dealbreakers.

Chances for Another Date: I am still on the fence about it

Overall Grade: B

My Own Medicine

Sometimes I'm just not in the mood.

Names have been changed to protect those without a chance.

Name of Date: Hopeless

Date #: 2

Looks Like: Imagine the skinniest guy you know, then take off 10 pounds. Blonde hair and the dreaded weak chin. Seriously I need a team of people around me at all times so that I never date a weak chinned guy ever again. I haz a pwoblem.

Age: 23

Occupation: Grad Student

Where We Met: Adam 4Adam.com (he had cleverly chosen a straight-on photo, so I didn't notice his intentionally hidden weak chin. I cannot be blamed entirely)

What Happened: Well our first date was super uneventful. I just went over to his place and he made tea and we chatted and I sneezed continuously because of his house cat. Hopeless was a nice enough guy. Very intelligent, good listener, but also very needy. I picked up on this immediately. I'm needy myself so I was tripping over the signs. Talking about the future, telling me how handsome I am (truths, but ploys nonetheless), and begging to see me again. I was literally a week away from moving to a different state, so anything meaningful was the furthest thing from my mind. However, I had gotten myself into this hot mess, I had to follow-through.

A few days before I left he called and begged me to come see him one last time before I moved. I really didn't want to. I had friends to see, packing to do, plans to be made. But he sounded soooo pathetic and I know that needy voice because I've used it 200 times. "Please, just, let's just spend one last night together and in the morning we'll say goodbye." Cut to me in tears sobbing on my knees in the street while his car pulls away. Has happened more than once. No lie. I feel a connection with his plea, so I reluctantly agree.

He tells me to stop by when he gets out of class and we'll watch a movie (Aka he'll try desperately to take my clothes off and get me to say the words "maybe we can make this work somehow.") WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE. I don't judge him too harshly, in fact his insane infatuation is probably flattering? I like to be needed. I'm a 2 on the enneagram scale. Look it up. It's super enlightening.

When I get to his place that night he tells me that he is dog-sitting and would I mind heading over to his friend's place so we can walk them? Normally I wouldn't care, because I love dogs. But, it's already like 10pm. I just wanted to spend an hour with him, maybe make out and give him a thrill, and then make it to the bar to squeeze in some last hangouts with friends. I resign myself to the fact that the evening belongs to him now. I am committed. This is his gift. Of me. I suddenly feel bad for all the guys I've deemed assholes who must have felt this exact same way while indulging my crazy.

The dogs happen to be a dachshund and a rescue greyhound. The dachshund dashes out of the house the moment he opens the door, barks ferociously at me, and runs away into the night. The dog literally ran away. The metaphor is not lost on me. With the disappearing jingle of his collar so goes any chance I had of having an enjoyable evening. Hopeless tries to remain calm and asks that I stay with the greyhound while he looks for the other. I begin to compose an acoustic jason mraz-ish version of "who let the dogs out?" in my head. It is stellar. The greyhound is gorgeous, if dumb, and is content to let me feed it then snoop around the poorly decorated house. A mannequin wearing a read rain coat in your living room? I can't think of any reason that is a good idea.

Ten minutes later hopeless returns defeated. No dog. Fuck. I have to help him now. His lip is quivering and the responsibility of being in charge and failing had broken him. I see all this happening in his brain and I think "oh great. I know he needs to be comforted now. He will want a hug and a kiss and for me to tell him it will all be ok." Seconds later he wraps his arms around me and I have to suppress a groan. Am I this predictable to guys I date? I see now why I am so single. So so so single. I oblige with the kissing and comforting (albeit half-heartedly) and commence looking for this damn dog.

It is dark out. Poorly lit. And I just want to go home and watch musical theatre majors riff through classics during their recitals on youtube. That is all I want at this point. But here I am calling out in falsetto for a dog who doesn't know me and clearly doesn't want to be home. After about 20 minutes of fruitless searching I am ready to tell this kid to give up and call the owner. But by the grace of God a car drives by and in his headlights we spot the little fucker crossing the street. Hopeless scoops him up and tosses him inside. Mission annoyingly accomplished.

We drive back to his place and in his highly emotional and relieved state he wants to celebrate by sex. Not even this excites me. I just go through the motions and actually become quite frustrated. I want to finish. I want to go home. I don't like this kid. Again flashes of every guy I've hated for doing the exact same thing to me come to my head. I'm a terrible person, but it still doesn't change that I just do not want to be with him. I can only suffer through about 10 minutes of cuddling before I leave. I make a point to get out as quickly as possible before he can break into the rehearsed monologue he has about how awesome I am and how good he thinks we could be for each other. I want out before any messy pleading begins and I am left to have to break this kid's heart with words instead of actions.

I leave and get in my car furious with myself for being that guy I hate. Hopeless deserved a lot better than me. Working out my past issues by agreeing to an obligatory evening was a pretty shitty thing to do.

Gained Points for: Wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Lost Points for: Having skewed expectations.

Mistakes I Made: Thinking that indulging him would be good for both of us.

Chances for Another Date: He still texts and messages me all the time. I'm trying as hard as I can to be polite but clear about my interest. I do not think it will happen.

Overall Grade: D +

Prelude

Sometimes it's just fun to flirt.

Names have been changed to protect the obvious.

Name of Date: The Boy Next Door (not because of any connotations of that phrase, but because he was literally living next door to me for a while)

Date #: (0)

Looks Like: Your typical up and coming hot young actor

Occupation: Actor

Where We Met: My screen door was open one night and he passed by taking out the garbage and we said hello.

What Happened: Ok so what follows isn't a date by any stretch of the imagination, but it is an account of the flirting that took place over one night to lead up to our first date. I just wanna make that clear so that you know what you're getting into. I'm big on clear expectations.

I was coming home from work one evening, it had been a rough day and I was looking forward to hangouts with my other neighbors. We all knew each other and worked together so it was like a sad little campus of a neighborhood trying to relieve dorm life. "Oh man, I can come over and week can bake cookies and watch glee and drink wine and I'll complain about my roomies. Yay!" Seriously this happened like every other night.

So I am coming home and I see TBNT standing outside his place. I had always thought he was super hot, but he was way out of my league. Like he was an empty slot for hosting the oscars and I was Heidi Montag. Shit just ain't gonna happen. But admiring him from afar had been enough for me. Well he sees me walking up to my place and he goes "Oh. I am sooooo tired. and literally collapses on the sidewalk." I make some joke about how pathetic he looks and his arms reach out toward me. A few other neighbors are standing around and offer their hands to lift him, but he knocks them away and again stretches him arms out to me.

I have been chosen.

I walk over and lift him up off the ground, and he is limp in my arms. Head on my shoulder, putting all his weight on me. Ding ding ding ding ding. We have flirtations. He probably thought he was being subtle, but after years of playing the "I'm so tired, i just, could you just hold me, and i'll just, i mean, put my head right here" game I knew exactly what was going on. All suspicions were confirmed when he caressed my face and smiled a coy smile. This guy wanted it. He wanted it all over his personage.

He then asked what I was up to, and I mentioned that a few of us were going to go lay on the beach and watch the stars. He cautiously asked "should i come?" Haha what was I going to say? "No. but you can come to my place instead?" Actually I probably should have said that. It was pretty clear he wanted to come just for me. I felt fancy and wanted which is not something I often feel. His invitation was a given.

At the beach, there were 6 of us total. We lay down close to each other, but never touched. Crazy sexual tension passed through both of us and after 15 minutes of light chatting among the group he announced. "So who is going skinny dipping with me?"

legit.

I was not going to pass that up, so I got up and began undressing. He looked at me and said "Seriously?" and I said "Oh hell yeah. Let's do this." It was at this point I was annoyed that the rest of the group was there. If I'm going to get naked with a boy for the first time there are things I'd prefer to do that I cannot do in front of an audience. I mean I could. But I doubt they'd appreciate it. And if I'm gonna do that I'd like to get paid or at least have better lighting. The moonshine does not a porn set make.

Alas others were present so our nudity was communal and rather than sexual. His body was firm and tight. Nice muscles, phenomenal ass, mouth-watering perfection. Temptation personified. We ran into the water and romped like children. Horny frustrated children. We would wander too close to each other, arms sweeping in hopes of brushing skin. This dangerous game was clearly noticed by everyone else who just chose to not say anything, lest they burst the delicate dance of seduction. P.S. I am using this paragraph as an entry way into erotic novel writing. I am so good at writing sexy sentences. Something with a shirtless man on the cover with a finger raised to the lips as if making a "shhhhh" sound.

After we emerged from the water and dried off and clothed we set off back home to shower and head to a bar. I wasn't too keen on the bar idea but his begging me to come was an offer I couldn't refuse. I showered (alone) at home and hopped in my car. The others were walking there and I felt no need to get sweaty on the humid night. I just wanted to look cute and poofy hair is the opposite of that. I passed them about halfway there and rolled my window down to shout something sassy. TBNT noticed, immediately left the group, hopped in the passenger seat and shouted 'DRIVE!' before anyone else could get in.

Alone at last.

Awkward at last.

What do we say to each other now? "So how was your day?" No. I have just seen him naked and the fog of sexual energy in my car is making it hard for me to focus. When we arrive at the bar it is closed and I am secretly grateful. More time in his presence without being able to touch or kiss or work it out somehow would drive me crazy. Much like the Britney Spears song "drive me crazy." Or the Melissa Joan Hart movie "... Sabrina the Teenage Witch in Paris with the Olson Twins, maybe?" Or something.

When I finally get home I log on to the fb to stalk his profile and within 10 seconds he has fb chatted me

"hey"

"hey"

"fun night tonight"

"yeah"

"you have a great body"

"you too"

Cut to 15 minutes of us telling the other what we like about the other's body. This is basically cyber sex without cameras or mutual masturbation. This is a sophisticated and heightened type of flirting that began mere hours earlier. How far we have come.

I ended the conversation before it could turn sexual or weird and we made a vague promise to hang out with each other the next day.

Gained Points for: Unabashedly pursuing me

Lost Points for: Not knocking on my door that evening after the bar

Mistakes I Made: Being too eager to skinny dip. I shoulda kept it classy

Chances for Another Date: Undeniable

Overall Grade: A

Enough About Me

Sometimes people should learn when to shut up

Names have been changed to protect the tactless.

Name of Date: Rabbi Inappropriate

Date #: 1

Looks Like: David Schwimmer with a rounder face.

Age: 27

Occupation: Governmental nonsense.

Where We Met: Okcupid.com

What Happened: Ok so for some reason I get it in my head that dating Jewish guys is like a really good thing? I don't know why. (See "The Chosen People Shuffle") Maybe because of all the stereotypes I see on TV about them wanting to settle down and having lots of money? I am good with both of those things and would like both of those things to be attributed to my partner. Thus for the remainder of this post, I'm just gonna throw a lot of jew-ey stereotypes in. you know. for fun. SHOFAR!

Rabbi Inappropriate and I met online and he seemed like a very decent, upstanding, and focused dude. I was impressed by his job, living situation and ability to carry on a conversation. If a guy can meet those requirements then he has more than passed the test of gaining a first date. But let's be honest it doesn't take much to pass that test. In fact you have to actively want to fail. Or be ugly.

He made reservations ( i love that. it's so fancy and impressive. major points) at a restaurant that does deconstructed southern food. I was so excited about this place that I went online and drooled over the menu. JEWS LIKE TO EAT! THEY CALL IT GNOSHING I THINK. YIDDISH!

We met up at the place and I was in love. It was so cute and gorgeous and the perfect place to take a date. This guy was gaining major points and he hadn't even shown up yet. I just knew it was going to be a magical (KABBALAH!) evening.

Well he arrives and we're a bit early for our reservation so he suggests a book store across the street. I love those things cause they make me look smart, so I agree. Then I notice his jeans don't really fit. Ok. So it's like the waist is too big, so he is wearing this belt, but then the excess fabric gathers in the front to make this weird concave pouch thing in the crotchal area. You know what I'm talking about. You have to know what I'm talking about. It's unattractive. I know that buying jeans that fit is hard, but leave obvious fashion faux-pas til date 4 or 5. When they are less likely to bother me.

While in the book store he begins conversation. But it's not really normal? It's things like "So I used to live in this neighborhood, but then I was caught in crossfire so I moved." Oh.... I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you disapprove of my neighborhood and that it scarred you. JEWISH GUILT!

He also asks very heavy questions and then just nods his heads and sighs as I try to answer them as simply as possible. I mean this is date one, it's supposed to go:

job.

siblings.

fav tv shows.

awkward coming out stories.

worst ex stories.

forced flirting.

vague plans for date 2.

it's a well worn path, but it works well in gay culture. i mean, i appreciate a guy who can create fun different casual conversation, but that was definitely not what Rabbi Inappropriate had in mind.

It seemed all he wanted to discuss were topics I definitely did not want to discuss.

When we are seated at the restaurant, I am in love with the place and decide it is my new favorite place ever in the world. I have to come back like tomorrow. It's legit the coolest place I've been taken. I begin to ease up a little and think maybe he just is really interested in me and wants to talk about deep stuff and not superficial shit. But my willingness to indulge him became my downfall. MOSES!

He started with a topic none of us like to talk about, especially when we want to appear attractive: Body Image. He asked why I was so skinny and what I was doing about it. Which then led to the second awkward topic: Eating Habits. I don't know if this bothers you as much as it bothers me, but I feel what people eat is their own business. I mean I hate self-righteous vegans as much as the next guy, but I'd never engage them in conversation about it. Why then does he think it's appropriate to go over my dietary issues? NO MEAT AND CHEESE TOGETHER! I just hate talking about it, it makes me feel self-conscious and like I'm ten and can't take care of myself.

THEN he moves on to family issues. This is veeeeeery personal territory we are treading into. I do not want to explain my very complicated relationship with my mother OR my strained relationship with my sister to essentially a stranger. My deep seated emotional issues that stem from childhood are not first date appropriate! Maybe after we've dated for a few months and I'm feeling upset about something and I open up to you as a means to getting awesome pity sex, then yes, by all means keep prodding.

But the topic that takes the cake: My dead father. He wants to know all the details. How I am dealing with it now. How it has affected my relationship with people, specifically my family. On and on and on and on. He is clueless to my monosyllabic answers. My folded arms. My no eye contact. He just keeps pressing and wants more info like a sadistic therapist. FREUD! (he was Jewish right?)

Anyway the date ends shortly after the bill comes, which he doesn't even pay for and I waste no time walking the other way and into the gay sports bar 2 blocks down the street. I think I am done dating Jewish guys for a while.

Gained Points for: Excellent restaurant choice. The mushroom loaf was phenomenal.

Lost Points for: Being nosy mcmake me feel weird.

Mistakes I Made: Not standing up for myself and directing conversation elsewhere.

Chances for Another Date: I seriously doubt it.

Overall Grade: C -

The Most Dangerous Game

Sometimes a date is a just a pretext gone wrong.

Names have been changed to protected the overly focused.

Name of Date: Sgt. Handsome-Face

Date #: 2

Title of Last Date: Redemption

Amount of Time Between Dates: A week

What Happened: Well after out last date I had to stop myself from going out to buy an engagement ring. This guy fit every single one of my requirements. He was one of those guys that you cannot wait to show off to your friends because you know they'll be impressed and you cannot wait to be "in a relationship" with on fb because you know your ex's will be insanely jealous and spend the evening eating out of ben and jerry's pints. basically i want to lock this down as quickly as humanly possible.

I invited him over for a game night, which I think is a very cute idea. I had scrabble and a deck of cards and he was going to bring cribbage and some dice to teach me bunko. I think that is the name I cannot really remember. He was very into the idea and said he'd pick up a bottle of wine on the way. I could not get over how thoughtful he was. I was tempted to put on knee-pads so that if he showed up with flowers I could just drop right there and thank him properly in my doorway.

But I didn't and he didn't, so it was fine. Proper etiquette says the beejs can wait if there are no flowers.

We begin with scrabble which is literally my favorite game ever. I get way into it and probably care too much about winning. I think it's because it makes me look smart and crafty and I can pull off the effortless air of placing down 7 tiles over a triple word score without batting an eye. Sgt. H-F was digging my mad skills and asked me to put on some music. Thank you Postal Service. Give Up is the best album for any situation, just adjust the volume and you've got everything from great ambiance to sexy makeout music.

The wine he brought was pretty terrible, but I didn't care. I had this gorgeous guy in my place playing a game I love and I am clearly impressing him with my scrabble skills. The night is going so well.

I win the game and he begins to teach me how to play bunko. Which is a dice game. I don't really get the rules but he is way into it and obviously very good at it. I become bored rather quickly and decide that we've had our cute gaming fun, it's time to pull this kid into the bedroom. I lean in to kiss him and he's very responsive. score. Our kissing becomes more passionate and I pull him away from the table and towards my bedroom. I pull off his hoodie and he pulls away and says. "Can we finish the game first?"

uh..... seriously? i only came up with game night in the first place just to get you over here. it was a means to an end, not something i actually saw us doing late into the night. i had quite another activity planned for that.

but he is my guest and for some strange reason invested. so i agree. he puts his hoodie back on and sits back at the table. it was almost like a slap in the face. re-robing. like we were both playing a larger game in which his defenses wouldn't be shattered so easily. His strategy was to keep me busy and prolong the sexing until I was begging for it. Well 2 can play at that game, sir!

Actually I cannot. I will become whiny and demand it and seem pathetic in like 20 minutes.

Which is exactly what happened. After sitting through the rules of cribbage I literally was like. Can we just go make out now? His victorious grin signaled my defeat. But I didn't really care that much because seriously we're both about to get some, so... I could lose that game every time and be fine.

It turns out to be... underwhelming. Another classic case of cannot stay hard but "it's not you, i promise." I fucking hate that bullshit. Is your mind too focused on cribbage to keep a boner for me? I mean I give a STUPENDOUS blow job, no lie, and you can't even keep it up for me? Is THIS the real prize for the loser? Mediocre hook-ups with unfulfilled desires. I am seriously beginning to doubt our compatibility. Until he rises to go to the bathroom and as he emerges and stands nude in the doorway he sighs and says "thank god we both look good naked" before pouncing on me.

faith restored. slightly.

he still doesn't seem to be excited so i decide that if i cannot have a sexual connection with him tonight, we will form an emotional one. I invite him to spend the night. (maybe by 6am your morning wood will tell a different story). He reluctantly agrees, out of guilt i think. Which makes me feel even more desperate and pathetic.

i turn off the light and we cuddle for perhaps 10 minutes before he announces. I really should go. dresses. and exits. i feel like crying. i don't even hear his car pull away for another 20 minutes after he's walked out the door. did he sit there trying to decide whether or not to come back in? or booty calling some other guy who will keep him hard? either way i felt ugly and unwanted.

the next morning he sent me an e-card saying "sorry i bailed." verbatim. that is what it said. it is funny how one moment someone can be so amazing and the next so utterly disappointing.

Gained Points for: complimenting my nude form

Lost Points for: LEAVING!

Mistkaes I Made: Expecting too much on a 2nd date.

Chances for Another Date: It is all up to him at this point.

Overall Grade: D+