Cockblocked.

We’ve all been there. Of, if you’re into chicks, you call it pussyblocked.

It’s that moment when you’re steaming straight ahead to Funkytown and there’s a fatal error.

And you find yourself (insert appropriate genitals)-blocked.

Take for instance this moment in my life. I was out bar hopping with my favorite month-long fling from last year and we were having a grand time trading raunchy stories and sending inappropriate drunk texts to various friends (if you’re reading this and were a recipient, sorry/ not sorry/ you’re welcome). We started to end the night and found ourselves making out while leaning on my car wishing we had a more convenient hook-up location. He pulled back slightly and with a sly grin said that he worked around the corner and he has a dream of sex on the conference table.

I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

We hurried to his building, giggling like idiot teenagers the whole way. We stumbled up the dimly lit stairwell and into the open-space office design…only to find…his loser co-worker pulling an all-nighter.

Cockblock of all cockblocks.

With the open office design, there was nowhere to get any privacy, and the co-worker was looking pretty suspicious of my date’s fake rifling through papers and mumbling of “uh I forgot to grab…uh…something.”

We looked at each other and realized this would be the end of the evening.

On the way out, I heard my date mutter “well I’ve never liked that guy, so at least now I have an actual reason to hate that guy…so…bright side?”

Yes?

When they say:

“Why is your dog so weird?”

You say:  “Check please!”

Yep. True story.

So I have a wonderful dog. She’s a bit wonky, but she’s also a Lab, so it comes with the territory. She just super duper wants attention, wants people to be happy, and most of all wants belly rubs. If I’m in public with her, she attracts attention from pretty much anyone because she’s pretty dang cute and she loves everyone and everything (no joke:  she gets super butt hurt if another living being doesn’t immediately want to be her best friend).

This particular date taught me to bring with her on all first dates because if you don’t like my dog, we aren’t going any farther. She’s the constant in my life and comes first…and was there waaaaay before anyone else.

She’s also kind of me in dog form. So if you don’t like her, we won’t work. As a result, she’s my litmus test. This particular date taught me to bring her on the first or second date to make sure everyone gets along and to screen people out early on.

But the biggest thing this particular moment taught me was to just be yourself right from the start, be open about your priorities, and when someone hits a deal breaker to walk away. So often we ignore red flags and don’t act on our needs or set healthy boundaries from the start. As a result, we enter into relationships from a false standpoint and can’t understand why they crash and burn so badly. It may sound weird to compare my dog to other red flags, but it’s true:  if we are as ruthless with our boundaries and needs as we should be, it may take longer to find that awesome person, but it may save a LOT of pain.

Although…if I was always good about red flags, I wouldn’t have this blog or the boatload of other over the top stories. So maybe (safely) ignoring your red flags can make for some good stories 😀

How to lose a girl in 5 sentences

So as I mentioned in an earlier post, I have been pretty much over the cis male dating scene, and recently discovered a dating app for women called Her.

So THAT’S where y’all have been!

One of the really good things about it is that the app will start a conversation if you match with someone and you are both too introverted to start it. It asks some pretty good conversation starting questions, like,

“Snuggle hard or party late?”
“Should glitter be banned or put EVERYWHERE?”
“What’s the worst mistake you ever made with your hair?”
“Gelato or fro yo?”
etc.

Recently, the app stepped in and started a conversation between a woman and myself with this question:  “Have you ever met someone famous?”

Me:  “Yep! I met Dave Matthews a few years ago and I meet some famous people through my retail job. But the people I am usually most excited to meet are the big names in my field of study (I’m a marine scientist). Those are the ones who I forget my name around. (Yep, kind of a nerd here!)

Her:  “Hi! Interesting! Bye!”

Sigh. Shoulda waited a minute before being SUCH A DORK.

But then…at least I was able to dodge a deal breaker immediately?

I’ve been a little torn about this actually. On the one hand, I thought I was being kinda funny and up front that I’m a professional nerd. But then I have to remember the stigma around being a nerd, and the picture people get in their head of a typical scientist. I have struggled my entire life to break that stigma, but society, TV, movies, and books haven’t really done me any favors. Usually when I meet people in person, it takes them a while before they actually get that I’m a scientist. By then, my charm has totally won them over (or not, but at least they have the real me to go by).

So I guess that is the downfall of this whole online dating thing…it’s soooo easy to flit to the next attractive photo. It’s a good reminder to not judge a bio by its cover…and to be open minded that your perception about someone could be based totally on society’s take on them…and maybe not them.

Job interview (j/k. lol.)

So a few years ago, I was awarded a fellowship for the year following grad school. In this position, I was able to do a lot of networking. At one particular networking event, I met a woman who was a consultant in a field I was very interested in pursuing a job in once my fellowship ended. We chatted for a while and really got along, so she invited me to come into the office for an interview. I jumped at the chance.

A week or so later, I took a day off of my fellowship (which was a difficult maneuver given that it was a limited duration to begin with) and went downtown to meet with this woman. We chatted for a few minutes about her firm…and then she asked me if I was single.

I’m sorry…what?!

I had, in fact, very recently (like, 5 days ago) become single during a painful breakup over a difficult health situation on my partner’s end of things.

I tried to hide that I just wanted to cry over that thought she triggered and instead just said ‘uh…yeah? WHY?!’

“Oh perfect! I have JUST the guy for you!!”

“WHAT?!”

I shit you not. I literally gave up a day of work for what I thought was a job interview…to be interviewed to see if I was fit to date her friend. I regained a vague sense of composure over the next few minutes and diplomatically left.

It took me a few days to get over the shock, and it was also humiliating to tell my mentor for my fellowship the following day what had happened. He was appalled and didn’t blame me at all for that experience, and just commiserated with me about how inappropriate that was.

 

A few days went by, and I slowly got over that incident.

Until.

An email introduction appeared.

This chick actually thought it was ok to send an email intro between me and her dude friend.

WHAT?!

And he emailed me immediately asking to meet up.

I was furious. I calmly emailed him back and informed him of the entire situation and thanked him for his interest, but told him I was in no place to date. He was unaware of the whole story, and responded with an emphatic apology and agreed to never contact me again.

 

Fast forward to a few months later. I was hiking with my favorite hiking buddy up to a remote alpine lake. We were having a great time chatting and pushing our limits on a tough hike. At one point about a mile from the top, we paused to try to remember how to breathe and have a normal heartbeat again, and let a group pass. As they trickled by, a woman stopped and excitedly said my name. I jerked my head up to be met face to face with the woman who ‘interviewed’ me.

She was soooo excited to run into me. And she was with the guy she wanted me to date.

Dear life: seriously?!

I put on the fakest smile and immediately deflected. My hiking buddy, seeing that I needed rescuing, did me a solid and took over and got the woman back to passing us by on the hike.

Bitch didn’t even offer us the tequila she was chugging at the lake when we arrived.

 

Fast forward to a few months later. A friend was getting married in a few weeks and she set up a fun bachelorette party evening. She wasn’t someone I knew super well, but I wanted to support her for her big day—and I am not one to turn down a bachelorette party! I excitedly met her and her crew at the first destination…and stopped short the minute I walked into the bar.

Job interview girl was there. And sitting next to my friend.

Dear life: just fuck yourself.

I decided to ignore the situation and just focus on the bride to be. Because…that’s how a grown-up and a friend handles things. There was no way I was going to divert attention away from my friend for her big fun night. So I acknowledged the job interview girl and said ‘oh hi! Good to see you again! I’m so excited we can support our mutual friend on her big night!’

Instead of taking the hint, she immediately started blaring out the entire story at the top of her lungs, taking ALL attention onto herself (and by default, me).

Facepalm. And sigh.

Our poor mutual friend then felt awkward AF about us being in the same room, and started trying to patch things up. I covered for all of us and diverted attention back to her as soon as I possibly could, but I felt awful for having her night start out with such a downer of a moment. In the end, she had a fabulous night that she will remember (through all of our pictures…because we showed her a GOOD night) for the rest of her life. Also, turns out job interview girl has an early bedtime, so that helped divert awkwardness early on.

 

That was the last time I have run into her, but I am still wary of another possible time and the awkward possibilities it could hold.

Tho…as usual, at least it will be memorable (and I’ll be sure to update this entry).

Family Meetings

I SUCK at meeting families. And at getting along with families. I don’t get along with many girls, so sisters terrify me. And brothers have typically hit on me. I’m also not typically what parents want their kiddo dating.

As a result, I dread these meetings…and one time I decided that showing up tipsy would be the best way to handle it.

Spoilers, it was not the way to handle it.

This blog is about the early dates and all that, but this kinda fits because I met this person’s brother and (female) best friend (who is basically family to him) fairly early on. And let’s face it:  I get to make the rules for this blog :).

So. Meeting this person’s family. We decided to make it low key and meet up at my favorite dive bar. I was coming from a Hawaiian themed party, so was already looking ridiculous in my sarong and tank top in the middle of the winter. And I was a little buzzed.

It started off ok enough, and we started going through pitchers of beer. I may have a tendency to get a tad loud when I drink…and lose what little filter I have. So by my big moment of the evening, I was not exactly in an endearing state. Also at one point in the evening, there was a dude who was being a bit annoying, so I deflected and embarrassed the shit out of him. Not that I think my night would have gone much smoother had I not done that…but it may have been slightly less mortifying.

At some point in the evening, I had to pee. I had never been to the restroom at this place before, and was told it was ‘around the corner.’ So I blindly went around the corner and right into the bathroom.

There was a long trough along the floor, which should have been my first clue…but alas it wasn’t. My first clue was when a guy, the guy I had made fun of earlier, looked down at me and we asked each other what we were both doing in there.

It was then I realized I was in the men’s room. Popping a squat. In a skirt.

I prayed to all the gods out there that no one would notice. But then karma bitch slapped me. The dude who I called out earlier for being an ass came out behind me, saw my group, and yelled “I just saw your girlfriend’s cooter!!”

Definitely not my finest moment.

The guy I was seeing received the recommendation of dumping me later that evening.

A recommendation that was pretty well deserved.

So, here’s some friendly advice:  when you’re on a date, be sure to check the bathroom you’re going in. I may be gender fluid and be fine with using a men’s room for those moments when I’m in that energy…but I don’t recommend doing that when it’s a trough and you’re in a skirt.

(as a follow up, in case you care, he did not, in fact, end things. in that moment. they ended later, but for real reasons versus this particular evening’s reasons.)

To initiate or not

Or, rather, how to initiate.

So, initially, this blog was going to be titled “Tinderified.” I liked how it felt like the word terrified because that’s how I was feeling about diving in. it also implies a complacency. Like we are zombified to Tinder. Like we are adjusted to this norm of dating.

I’m now somewhere in between. Somewhere between anxious over doing this online dating thing and somewhat numbed to it.

Being pansexual means that I am open to dating anyone I find attractive that is willing to give dating a solid go. But that also means that my energy may shift at times and one type of person may feel ‘safer’ or more ‘right’ at any given time during that search (once I settle in with someone, it’s all about them, no matter what). Recently, I have been solely dating people who identify as either cis or trans women. For those of you on Tinder, I’m sure you know that the options are not high in number, so I decided to click the “men and women” search option.

And I was promptly reminded of why I have had the ‘women only’ box checked.

“Brains and beauty? Meow.”

Um. Are you fucking kidding me? Does that work on anyone? Anyone who I would mildly respect?

(And for those of you furries out there, I am not stomping on you. Because this was definitely not a furry. So I’m not trying to be offensive to you.)

“Women only” could not get reselected fast enough.

Ok, I’m not saying women are perfect. But I haven’t had that shitty of a line from a woman. Ever.

But…what is the right way to open communication? IS there a right way?

Personally, unless they open with the beauty and brains comment, I’m really game to chat back with anyone who initiates. Because initiating takes some cajones.

I used to get super offended and annoyed when someone would just say “hey,” but I got over that kinda fast once I realized there’s not too much that is going to really grab my attention. At this point, I tend to stick with a simple “hey,” or send a smiley face. Everything else feels kinda corny and banal. One woman sent a “Hey! Thanks for liking my profile too J” a while ago, and I feel like that’s another great way to lead off.

One way that I used to try was this: “Hi there! So I never know how to start these things…but here are three random facts about me: 1. … 2. … 3. …” I used to think it was brilliant until I realized how awkward and lame it made me sound. Like…don’t start with pointing out this is an awkward process. Just dive in. Plus, people never seemed to know what to do with a lot of information.

So, now it’s a “Hey! :)”

But I have had some other pretty memorable first messages:

“Assuming that you talk to the horses, and assuming that they talk back and you translate for them, one question: do you use the same voice for all horses, or do they each get different voices? I once rode a horse who talked like Queen Elizabeth, at least until he tried to dump me in the ocean.”

This was great for many reasons: it was witty, it hit upon the fact that I mentioned that I ride horses so I knew they were paying attention, and if they turned out to actually believe they talked to horses, the date would be amazing fodder for this blog.

“Hi, Jon here but where’s here? That is the question or is it the answer…..”

Uh…wtf?

Then there are the indecipherable ones: “I was going to be the best practices in the world of crime and offline for a silent and a half of the world and I have to go :)”

Winning: “I see that thirst for life in your smile! So do you live out in the country?”

Losing: “Hi there. You’re cute. How are you?”

And then there’s the forward, but at least blurts out what they are looking for person: “I’m just gonna be upfront and say I’m not looking for something serious right now. Would you be interested in drinks and casual sex?”

I guess a lot of these are just me being overly judgy. But first impressions are hard to shake. Personally, I usually get a vibe of whether or not I want to meet someone when I look at their profile, so unless they really eff up the intro, I’m already wanting to meet them. The rest of the initiation fails remind me to keep my filter going…and to keep looking.

Geography much?!

Ok. So. If you’re going to try to pick someone up…dear god please have a fucking clue of where places are. Especially with respect to what is a state or a city. And not the obscure ones. The common ones. I would never ask anyone to know where my hometown is. But I expect some basic level of knowledge as to major cities (I mean come on—sports teams alone should teach many the basics of where shit is).

Think I’m being overly judgy and mean?

Well. Probably. Usually.

But.

Then there’s this.

A few weeks after moving to the west coast, I went to a local bar to mingle with the locals and start meeting people. I soon realized that it was a little awkward to just go up to people at the bar and insert myself into the conversations, so I ordered a few drinks and tried to look friendly (and this was before the days of smartphones, so I literally could just sit there and pretend to watch the baseball game on the tv above the bar). Eventually, a really cute guy approached with a smile and struck up a conversation. Hellllloooo McDreamy.

But. Wait. Dammit. He’s a wingman.

Sigh.

He set up his friend perfectly. He was an ace at his job. His friend? Ball dropper of all ball droppers. He quickly realized he was out of his comfort zone when he discovered I have a graduate degree in molecular science and was in the process of returning to grad school for another degree (he sold jet skis…which I hate). But he doggedly tried to stick the landing anyway. I attempted to be friendly, and told him a bit about my life, which involved graduate school in SE Virginia, some moving around, and a few years of a big-girl career in Boston. He scrambled to keep the conversation moving forward…and really wiped out when he asked,

“So what part of Boston is Virginia in?”

I shit you not. I was speechless. I asked him to repeat the question, desperately hoping he would think about what he was saying and trying to give him an out. And he repeated himself.

What part of Boston is Virginia in?

Ok buddy, I tried. His wingman heard the question get repeated and literally facepalmed. All I could do was stammer out, “well, the city of Boston is about six sates away from the commonwealth of Virginia.” (Yes, I was a douche about it and said commonwealth instead of state. Technically that’s correct. And I was feeling extra douchy and extra not like helping him out.)

His defense? “My geography isn’t so good—the east coast has so much more complexity than the west coast.”

Sorry dude, you just fail.

I paid my tab and left. I am still wary of that bar. And think of this situation every single time I hang out there or bike by it.

And I’m not alone in people fucking up geography that badly.

One friend was living in DC trying to take a peaceful ride home on the Metro when a dude, who repeatedly talked about how he was a Harvard grad, decided to prove juuuuust how smart he was. He asked her where she was from, and she replied “Minnesota.”

His response? “Oh cool—that’s east of Wisconsin.”

Her reply? “Um. No. I promise you, it’s west of it.” And he went on to insist that his Harvard-educated dumb ass knew that the state where she is from is in a different location than it actually is.

He was such a wad about it that she finally got off the Metro a few stops early, waited until the train left the station, and re-entered to finish her ride home. Because paying twice for the Metro was So Much Better than that individual knowing remotely where she lived, or her putting up with his idiocy for any longer.

The moral of these interactions?

Trust the person who is from the place you are trying to have some knowledge about. And know some fucking basics about your country before you open your mouth. Or else you, too, may end up in a blog post (and probably Facebook).

But…then again, as with all of the eyeroll worthy interactions, I am ok with their existence because, at the end of the day, they are pretty entertaining.