I’d Rather Be Single

About a month ago, Scout got assigned to work in the same building as me for a 2-month period, and it has been a treat seeing him in passing every so often. Otherwise we rarely ever see each other at work.

We’ve had lunch twice so far in a common area of the building, making sure to maintain a respectable “colleagues-who-are-definitely-not-romantically-involved” distance away from each other while doing so, if there is such a thing. But he did come bearing gifts for our first lunch:

Gunz

Some girls like lingerie, some girls like jewelry, and some girls like boxes of handgun ammunition. I’m actually good with any of them. I guess I’m easy to please.

I am starting to learn one thing, and that is that the ladies love them some Scout. When we had our first lunch, maybe 2 or 3 weeks ago, a lady I know just from in passing who saw us eating pulled me aside later to swoon over how good looking he is, and how several other women have been checking him out since he got here.

The same thing happened last year at a party we were at, where a girl I’m cool with, who obviously had no idea about me and Scout’s involvement, starting whispering to me about how “rape-a-licious” he is, but that he “doesn’t cheat.”

If only they knew. It amuses me. He is pretty hot, so it’s kind of flattering I suppose.

When I ran into him a couple of ours before our lunch last Thursday, it was only because I was wandering around his office area and happened to do a double take on a gentleman sitting at a random computer because he looked good even from behind. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Scout. He and the rest of his team don’t really have a defined office space so just kind of have to work wherever there is free space, so he was just randomly sitting there when I walked by and had no idea it was him.

I told him about that later and he termed it as “cheating on him with him,” which I guess in the grand scale of cheating, is better than cheating on him with someone who is not him.

As far as my attempts to find romance with someone who is actually single, I’ve resorted back to Tinder and it is not going well. The quality of men on Tinder has gone drastically downhill, and on top of that I’m just generally less patient and/or too picky and set in my ways, so I’m swiping left way more than right and have a very short fuse with anyone I match with who rubs me the wrong way.

I had a repeat match with an attorney – “Brian” – I matched with previously on Bumble and did not get along with. Though I did remember our unfruitful interaction on Bumble when I ran across him on Tinder, I swiped right anyway just out of curiosity. He is good looking after all even if he was a bit of a tool. That was a couple of months though, so maybe circumstances will have changed, I figured.

I found he had swiped right on me as well. He opened conversation immediately alluding to our previous Bumble encounter, so he obviously remembered me, but he claimed not to remember exactly what happened.

When I reminded him that he was being a sleaze-ball and it turned me off, he responded with:

Sleaze1

I would hardly call my behavior “coy” because I don’t want to essentially sext within 24 hours of a match. But okay, buddy. And OMG – a whole 30 miles! That also seems to be a thing on Tinder…apparently anything over a 15-minute drive is considered too much effort for many people. That, to me, is a sign of a someone who is more hookup oriented. If you’re just looking for an easy piece of ass, then I suppose that is a little far to travel. People who are looking for something/someone more meaningful recognize that said person may actually not live right next door to them. I search within a 35-mile distance as I figure it would not be outside the realm of possibility that a worthy candidate might necessitate a little more travel time. And that’s okay with me. I do think that’s why cars were invented, after all.

Anyway…this fool started rubbing me the wrong way with his general negativity, and I got bored quickly with this conversation and stopped answering soon after because I settled down in bed to read. When he didn’t get a response after 10 minutes or so, he sent me a snarky remark about this being a “repeat performance.” I explained the next morning that I had been reading. He replied like a normal polite person at first about a book he was reading, then reiterated that our distance is problematic for him. I wished him good luck and let that be that. I believe that was Friday morning.

Saturday evening I’m at dinner with girlfriends and I get this:

Sleaze2

And that’s just the kind of mood I’m in. He never replied and eventually unmatched with me. Oh well. He’s a giant tool and I really don’t care.

Besides, who needs him when there are charmers like “Steve. ” This was after we exchanged only a greeting to each other:

Good Lord. The Tinder cup does not runneth over.

Hatred Cradles

I turn 35 later this year and for some reason the thought of doing so has seemed so especially dreadful lately. I feel like I’m at my peak right now in terms of beauty and vibrancy and youthfulness and for some reason, at the stroke of midnight on my 35th birthday, that all starts to automatically decline and I officially become less desirable.

In short, I guess I’m starting to feel my biological clock ticking ever so louder, and not really feeling like I have anything to show for it. There is a small part of me that still ideally would like to explore the idea of having a kid or 2 at some point in life, so I suppose what’s frightening is the fact that no matter how young I may look and feel, my reproductive system declines more every year that passes. And should the auspicious occasion ever arise where I find a suitable candidate to reproduce with, it may be significantly more difficult, or impossible, to do so. Even worse, the opportunities I’ve had so far to bring life into the world will come back to haunt me. Maybe it’ll be my just desserts.

But on the other hand, being completely devoid of romance at the moment doesn’t seem like such a bad deal.I’m starting to think love just may not be in the cards for me. I’m not bitter, I’m not unhappy, I’m not depressed really at the thought of that, I’m just starting to come to the realization that that just might be what my destiny is and maybe instead of fighting against it, I should learn to accept it and to concentrate on other things.

Life seems so much simpler and less stressful when there’s no guy for me to worry about. When I’m not anxiously awaiting texts or continuously ruminating over whether *he* likes me or doesn’t like me. Even if a tad more gray and boring as well…but what’s the alternative?

The mere thought that I am worthy to someone, that someone out there is thinking of me and striving to make me smile, is a great feeling. I’m like a cat basking in the rays of the sun, slowly swishing my tail back and forth. Content. Then his attention wanes, the sun disappears, and I’m cold and lonely again. It blows.

People frequently gush over their “better halves” and how love has made them better people or enhanced their lives and blah, blah, blah, but I’ve never been able to share that sentiment. Romance to date has never made me a better person. I’m unequivocally all the worse for it. I’m anxious and needy and moody and at my most insecure. I’m bratty and whiny and pathetic.

“Isn’t it funny. I’m enjoying my hatred so much more than I ever enjoyed love. Love is temperamental. Tiring. It makes demands. Love uses you. Changes its mind…But hatred, now. That’s something you can use. Sculpt. Wield. It’s hard or soft, however you need it. Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you.”

Ingrid Magnussen in White Oleander by Janet Fitch

Now, I’m not necessarily in complete agreement with Ms. Magnussen because she was seriously emotionally disturbed, but I can see where she’s coming from. I’m not a strong proponent of “hate” but I get her point about love. Because the periods in my life like right now, when there’s no one out there on my mind, I feel at my best. I’m confident and strong and secure. I feel beautiful and confident and like a force to be reckoned with.I don’t “hate” anyone, but in having no one to obsess over, I have more time to obsess about myself. In a good way.

And to be productive. I’ve lost weight, done a lot of reading, and as of late, with all the free time on my hands due to a lackluster social life (not just dating-wise, but also in terms of general drinking, which I’ve kind of lost the taste for as well), I’ve signed up for kickboxing and to tutor elementary school children in reading. I have also booked several traveling ventures for the year, including a trip to Costa Rica in December that so far just consists of myself. And whether I end up going alone or not doesn’t really matter.

That’s not to say I’m not lonely, because I am. As a heterosexual woman, I do miss having a male or several orbiting my atmosphere. Which is why I cracked over a week ago and renewed my Bumble account. Yet became quickly annoyed with seeing the same guys I used to see before, swiping left on most of that ilk. And also got annoyed  with the time limit stipulations (24 hours to open a conversation with a guy upon matching; but then he has to answer back within 24 hours as well or the match deletes), which made everything seem forced and rushed. Plus I wasn’t really a fan of being the one to have to initiate conversation 100% of the time.

I also called them out on the fact that they censor “gratuitous” swimsuit shots from women, yet I’ve seen a myriad of bathroom mirror selfies of bare-chested men. I sent them feedback, complete with an evidentiary screenshot, and got a form response. Screw you, Bumble.

So back to Tinder. And the quality of potential suitors is not at all impressive. I’m swiping left like 90% of the time because I’m being really discerning in who I match with, and most of these guys are not IT at all. But it’s a start I guess. Not that I’m expecting any miracles.

On another note…I ran across Benji’s profile on Bumble, promptly left-swiping. Then what do ya know – he texts me for the first time in 5 weeks, his explanation being that he got a vibe from me that I didn’t want to be bothered. Which is kind of true, but I didn’t want to be mean. He asked me out again for next Saturday and I told him I couldn’t make it. He then asked about Friday and I never answered.

 

No Thanx

Shortly into my commute home from work the afternoon before last I received a couple of texts from an unidentified number. I knew immediately who it was upon reading them but I asked “Who’s this?” anyway to make the fact that I was over it ever more poignant.

Guy in question (not important enough to waste an alias on) was someone whom my friend Tyra sent my way a month or so ago. This was apparently someone she met through Bumble and ended up meeting for coffee but didn’t feel any sparks with. For some reason she thought maybe he and I might be a good match, so she asked if I would want to give him a try.

This was somewhere around the time Adam gave me the heave-ho, although I can’t remember for sure whether it was right beforehand or right after. Whatever the case may be, I wasn’t feeling it at first since  guy and Adam just so happen to share the same first name. I thought that would be in poor taste.

At some point after the Adam situation imploded I gave in and told Tyra she could pass my number along. He started texting me and we exchanged a few pictures; he looked decent and seemed to have a high opinion of my looks, but it was hard for me to feel any real interest in the wake of the Adam debacle and especially since this guy didn’t seem to be making any moves to actually meet up.

He finally decided to make that move a couple of weeks ago, and we settled on Thursday evening. When I told him what town I lived in, he said he’d scout out a place for us to go down my way. The day before, I asked him if he’d figured anything out yet and he replied that he hadn’t thus yet and said his day had been hectic.

Admittedly, he slipped my mind for the rest of that day and it didn’t occur to me that I never heard anything back from him until Thursday evening. It was cold, rainy, and dreary and I wasn’t terribly pressed to go out in weather like that or with him to begin with, but I would’ve held up my end of he bargain if we had solidified plans so I was a little ticked that I never heard anything more from him. I sent my patented “Or not” to him, which he never responded to. Some time over the course of the weekend when he came to mind again and I realized he had never responded, I deleted his number and went on with my life.

For some reason he decided 2 weeks later was the appropriate time to randomly offer some half-ass apology, his excuse being that he figured I would be pissed and that he should’ve been better at communication.

Right, buddy.Unfortunately, the time to apologize would’ve been around the time you essentially stood me up 2 weeks ago.

As soon as he responded to my faux inquiry into his identity, I deleted his texts. Extraordinarily not interested. Logic kind of dictates that if this is the way he sees fit to act before we even have yet to meet, then it would only get worse from here.

Dating in the early stages, including any precursory period, is like a job interview…when you’re supposed to display your most polished and refined self to make the best impression possible. At least for normal people. Thus it could be deduced that either this IS his best impression, which is not a good one, or that he doesn’t really care about making one. Neither alternative is appealing.

I find my patience these days with men and/or peoples’ bullshit in general to be precariously thin.

I gave ElliotOh He Who Ignores My Texts More Often Than Not – his just desserts recently as well when he texted me about some minor Facebook drama centered around a particular colleague of ours. I didn’t even bother answering. Just like he does me most of the time.

It’s the small victories…