A girl should question a guy that doesn’t drink but makes sure to supply her with plenty of champagne that is sipped through a straw.

Tim had a very witty profile so I sent him a quick little email saying hello. He didn’t answer me right away but, when he did, he explained that the delay was because he had been in Spain for nine days, drinking and eating tapas. There are worse ways to spend a week. Our initial emails didn’t tell me much except that he worked for a huge local tech company, wasn’t that into sports (hmmm….) and loved to travel. Aside from his lack of sports knowledge he seemed decent so we decided to meet at a Starbucks in Seattle. I got there first and waited for someone to approach me. I recognized Tim from his profile and thought it interesting that he walked in, stood 10 minutes in line, got his drink and then came to introduce himself. Way to make it awkward, guy. Once he finally sat down, though, we had a very cool chat. Tim was well-traveled, liked the same kind of music as I did and he seemed pretty cute. He revealed that his reason for going to Europe was to test-drive fast cars and that he was a car nut. I hadn’t met a guy into that yet but, as long as it wasn’t Nascar, that wasn’t a problem. He also revealed that he was back on his ‘plan’ after going crazy in Spain. The company that Tim worked for paid for his fancy gym membership and had also ‘sponsored’ him on some hard-core diet and exercise program. 40 pounds was gone from his frame but he had gone off the wagon on his trip. I like a guy that cares about his physique but this seemed a little around the bend. Regardless, Tim seemed at least worth a second chance so, when he asked at the end of the coffee date if he could see me again, I agreed.

I got an email from Tim that night asking when we could make the second date. We decided on Friday and I said that I could come down to Seattle since there was more to do in the big city. He gave me his address and asked what I thought about dinner and a comedy club. I liked the date plan but was a little nervous to go to his house so soon but agreed anyway. Not a good idea, ladies, and I don’t do that anymore. I showed up at his place at 6:30 p.m. thinking that I would get the tour and then we would be off. Tim told me at that point that we were actually seeing the 9:00 p.m. show and would be eating at the club. I was already starving so this was not good. Tim was ‘back on plan’ so he had no food in his house. None. What he had procured for me, though, were little cans of champagne that came with little straws like grown-up juice boxes. Oh, and because he was dieting again, he wasn’t drinking alcohol so he would be sticking to sparkling water. So, no food for a few hours, lots of champagne and a guy that was stone cold sober? This was not looking good. It was clear I was going to have to pace myself. To kill some time, I asked for a tour.

Tim wasted no time and started with his bedroom. “This is where the magic happens,” he said as he strolled in. I started to laugh but then realized he wasn’t smiling or laughing. No, no, no – he couldn’t be serious! The MAGIC happens? Gag! Luckily we moved on quickly or I would have lost my composure. He then took me to his den which was covered in Porsches. There were Porsche portraits, a Porsche lamp, Porsche figurines – this guy was definitely a Porsche fan. How did I get so lucky as to meet a guy that had a magic room *and* a car room? This was going downhill fast.

Just about then our cab arrived. Tim wasn’t drinking so I am not sure why he couldn’t drive us but I wasn’t asking any questions. The driver just happened to be insane and I wanted to kiss the ground when we finally made it to the club. Tim got us seats right next to the stage and handed me a menu. There wasn’t anything that wasn’t fried or covered in cheese so I wasn’t sure what Tim was going to order. He apparently decided to go balls to the wall because he got a bacon cheeseburger, fries and a drink. Plan, what plan? I was just happy to have food! The show was pretty funny and Tim was cool about meeting the comics afterward to tell them he liked their sets.

When the show was over Tim hailed a cab and we headed back to his lovely pad. I should not have gone back inside because I didn’t want to send any mixed signals. I was not digging Tim and already knew I didn’t want to see him again. My plan was to go in, use the bathroom, give him a peck (preferably on the cheek) and get the hell out of there. But, as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, Tim swooped. He had dimmed all of the lights, lit candles and turned on some cool jazz. Holy crap! Was this guy living in the 1980’s? I somehow ended up agreeing to sit and talk with him a little bit before I left and he was all over me. I didn’t want to totally reject him so I sat with him for a few minutes and then told him I had to get home. I don’t remember what excuse I used for having to get out of there before midnight but he agreed to walk me to my car. We were almost out of his building before I realized I wasn’t wearing my glasses. He was so aggressive that they had been knocked off in our embrace and I wanted out of there so fast I didn’t even realize I couldn’t see anything. We retrieved my specs, he gave me one last smooch and I was free. Tim did call me the next day asking me to meet him for drinks (trying to get me drunk again!) but I didn’t answer. I sent him an email that I didn’t think there was a connection there but thanked him for the “lovely” evening. He thanked me and that was the last I heard from him. I guess I missed my chance to see where the magic happens.

Published in: on June 23, 2009 at 9:01 pm  Leave a Comment  


I should have known things would not go well with a professed Yankee
fan. Once again, I had found myself another guy who loved to talk
sports. Matthew had grown up in New York and was therefore a huge
Yankees and New York Giants fan. He mentioned both of these facts in
his initial email and, while I thought I might have an allergic
reaction to someone who supported my least favorite baseball team,
Matthew seemed funny and could put a decent email together. I found
out that he worked in database management for a local company,
traveled frequently and was a huge sports nut. He said he didn’t like
to read much – boo – but he seemed cool enough to at least meet for a
drink. He was a little older than I usually went for but I was thinking it might not hurt to relax my age restrictions.

Matthew and I met for a cocktail at one of my local restaurants. He
was pretty cute with blond, short hair and nice eyes but he was kind
of small. He had a wiry build and I would be lucky if he was as tall
as me. I kind of like the east-coast personality and Matthew seemed to
have it in spades. He was very talkative and had a cute New York
accent. We watched the baseball game and had a drink and Matthew asked
if I wanted to stay for dinner. He seemed decent enough to share a
meal with so we moved to a table. I ordered a salad and Matthew
ordered the seafood pesto fettuccine and he ate every single bite. This guy obviously had a fast metabolism. We exchanged a pleasant
hug in the parking lot and called it a night.

There must have been something about Matthew I liked because I sent
him an email saying I appreciated him driving up and treating me to
dinner. He took that as the invitation that it was and extended an
offer for brunch on Sunday. I was going to be near his house so he
suggested one of the nicest places to have brunch in Seattle. It was
an impressive restaurant – a chocolate fountain! – so I was pretty
excited. Matthew had been talking up his new house, new to him, so we
decided to meet there and then drive together. His house was very cool
and he had done a ton of work on it. The hardwood floors were amazing
and he had photos all over the house that he had taken. This guy loved
to hike and do home improvement, obviously.

The brunch layout was everything that I had heard and more. We were
seated, got our drinks and then got up to get our first plate. I had
my purse and, being a really crowded place, I picked it up to carry it
with me. Matthew looked at my purse and said, “What are you doing with
that?” I was momentarily baffled and asked what he meant. “Your purse.
Why are you bringing it? It will be hard to get food on your plate if
you are carrying a purse.” I explained that there were a ton of people
in this huge dining room and it would be easy for someone to walk away
with it if I left it at the table. This was said in my nice voice but
I was not too happy. What was I? Five years old? I had carried a purse
before and I didn’t need to be told how to operate it. He looked very
irritated but agreed to let me hang it on my arm. How kind.

The food was excellent and I settled down after the purse incident. We were talking about
favorite restaurants and Matthew announced that he hated Mexican food.
That is a pretty broad generalization so I asked him to elaborate. Was it beans that he hated? Spiciness? Tortillas? Shredded cheese? Oh, he hated it all, every last bit of it, and refused to even enter a Mexican restaurant. I asked him if something had happened with a burrito in his childhood but he didn’t think that was very funny. He also admitted to hating tomatoes, including those in sauces, cucumbers, wheat bread and any kind of cooked vegetable. He looked a little embarrassed and said that was just the start of his list.

Despite Matthew’s apparent food and purse phobias, we had a fun time so I agreed to see him before he left for a week to go to New York. I drove down to his neighborhood for some pizza and board games and a local pub. It was a good thing we could order separately because he got *nothing* on his pizza besides cheese. No sauce, no vegetables (cooked!) and no meat. This guy was pretty wild. While we were eating, Matthew started in on rock-climbing. I admitted that I had no desire to go hang off a cliff but I admired those, including him, that did. Matthew seemed to take this as a challenge and insisted I let him take me up a mountain. When I told him, no, I really don’t want to go climb rocks, he got very irritated. I somehow had managed to piss him off by not agreeing to let him teach me to rappel. “What about hiking? Do you refuse to do that, too? And I am sure you don’t like to camp?” All of the sudden I felt like I had to defend my outdoor preferences and I didn’t like it. I suggested it might be time to head out for some fun and games and Matthew huffily cleared our table.

Matthew and I had fun playing cribbage at the pub but I was pretty much done with him. He seemed so angry and, if he was this bossy now, it wasn’t going to get better. After cribbage he finally told me about his recent relationships and, surprise, surprise, his recent girlfriend had cheated and broken up with him.  Ahhh, the source of anger and bitterness.  While I used the restroom, I checked my phone and there was a text from Artie (see previous posts) and an email from a interesting new guy. The sense of excitement I felt at both told me I was definitely done with this guy. We drove back to his house where he gave me a very chaste hug and kiss. He told me he would call me when he got back from New York. When he did call, I fibbed and told him that I was afraid that I had been seeing someone else and had decided to try and give that a go. He spat out, right before we hung up, “Well, as long as it isn’t that jerk you had been talking about. That wouldn’t be ok with me.” He was talking about Artie, who I had briefly mentioned, and I told him, no, it wasn’t, and goodbye. Even while I was breaking it off with this guy I was still defending myself! Good riddance. Go climb a rock, pal.

Published in: on June 12, 2009 at 3:57 pm  Leave a Comment  


Randy provided me with two new internet dating rules in one convenient package.

Rule #1 – Talking about sports is very fun but not if it is the only thing you discuss.

Rule # 2- Meeting sooner rather than later is a must.

There might be a third rule here, too. Even if a guy says that he is straight, if he is more feminine than I am, it is probably not going to work.

I am embarrassed to admit it but I first emailed Randy because he had a picture of his dog wearing sunglasses. They were actually goggles, or Doggles, and the shot was so freaking cute I couldn’t help myself. How bad could a guy be if he put that up on his profile? I told him as much in my first contact and also, innocently, asked if he liked sports. Oh, boy, did he ever. He had season tickets to both the Mariners and the Seahawks and was still pissed at the Sonics for leaving town. All of those games sounded like quite a commitment but I was impressed nonetheless. Randy had grown up in the city I now lived, his mom still had a house there and he took his dog for walks in our local dog park.

I soon discovered Randy was a prolific emailer. He wrote frequently and in large, large amounts. Mostly what he wrote about was sports. The Mariners were in a race to win their division so he wrote to remind me of a game, during the game and then with post-game analysis. I enjoyed discussing this all with him, being a bit of a sports nut, but it was really all we talked about. Occasionally a random detail would make it through the sports barrier. I learned Randy worked on the water for a company that restored boats, he had been married for over 5 years but divorced when they realized they were ‘just friends’ and had a huge fondness for spaghetti. All relevant details, of course, but not enough to really establish an accurate idea about someone. We had probably exchanged more than 20 emails before we decided to meet. We chose a local restaurant and decided to meet in the bar so we could, of course, watch the Mariners game.

It is a good thing Randy recognized me because I never would have known it was him from his profile picture. Maybe I should have noticed that he was wearing sunglasses in all of his photos. Not that Randy was horrible looking but he just looked…different than I expected. The first thing he said when I walked up was, “Girl! Get up and give me a hug! I think it is just fabulous that we are finally meeting!” Uh, did I miss something? This guy seemed totally, totally gay. My gaydar was going off like crazy. I love gay men but dating them usually doesn’t work out. I gave him a hug and then we ordered a drink. The conversation was very pleasant but, much to my disappointment, Randy did not get more heterosexual as we drank. We talked about sports, of course, and his side of the conversation included lots of hand-waving and ‘Oh, girls!’. Once the game ended we kind of ran out of things to say so I called it a night. I could tell that he liked me as a person to have a drink with but I so did not get the feeling he was at all attracted to me as a female.

I got an email from Randy that night that said, “So? What did you think? Not about the game but about me?” Was this really the guy I had just met? Really? I think he had split personalities. I wrote him back that I had enjoyed our time together but I didn’t think there was a spark there. He wrote back, thanked me for being honest and then kept emailing me about sports for another few weeks. He didn’t even seem to care that I didn’t dig him. Maybe he was just putting up a brave face but he didn’t seem fazed at all. It was a tiny bit of an insult that he was not bothered. Just a tiny bit.

No matter how much I click with someone over email *nothing* beats meeting face-to-face. I can tell within a couple of minutes if there is at least something I find attractive. I am not shy and I can find anyone interesting for an hour, and a drink, so I have found it best just to meet. There is no better way to find out if there is something we have in common besides a love of Seattle sports. It also gives me some idea if I think my date would rather play for the other team. Oh, girl! Behave!

Published in: on June 5, 2009 at 3:22 am  Comments (1)