The Time Has Come.

Following in the footsteps of Objection, I have a date tomorrow (but, obvi, not with the same guy…I mean, we copy each other, but not to that extent). Said date called last night and we talked for an hour…thank goodness for DVR and OnDemand, or I may not have answered the phone. It was a good conversation, very easygoing, no awkward silences, lots of laughter. Bodes well for tomorrow, I suppose.

I’ll admit, I’m a bit nervous. Here’s the deal. I hate going on dates with people I don’t know. Huh, you might be saying…that makes no sense, I know. Generally, people date people they don’t know. I am quite the opposite. I typically date people I already know, those who are my friends already or on their way to being my friends or friends with people with whom I am friends (note: “date” is used very loosely here). It’s weird how it has so consistently happened this way, but it has. Before the first “date,” there has always been a good getting to know you period. Maybe that is the common denominator in all these failed relationships.

This is not to say I’ve never gone on dates with people I don’t know. Let me take you back in Reluctant Dater’s history, to a time when another friend convinced her that Speed Dating was a good idea.

It was not.

From that experience (20 dates in an hour!) I wrangled myself two dates. These two were the lesser of the evils. On date #1, I knew from the moment he walked into the restaurant that it wasn’t going to be fun or worthwhile. The conversation was agonizing. He had bad table manners. He did not know what lobster bisque was. I had to decline an offer for dessert (and I heart dessert a lot, especially at the restaurant where we were dining) and said these exact words: “I really need to leave within the next five minutes because The Bachelor is on at 9.” And so it went.

The next one was even worse. I should’ve known when he told me dinner would be at TGIF that something was awry. Um, TGIF at the mall, no less. So I get there first (of course) and he walks in and I don’t even recognize him because it’s been kind of a long time since we met. He’s shorter than I thought. Damn speed dating and its “sit down and chat” concept. So five minutes into our dinner conversation he finds out I’ve never been to Spain. He then proceeds to say “Oh, I’ll take you there in the spring. We’ll have the best time.” No we won’t, because I am never going out with you again. The whole rest of the date consisted of him making plans for our future together. Now, I know I’m a catch, but come on, Buddy. The next day happened to be New Year’s Eve. He asked my plans. I told him I had some (I kind of sort of did) and he insisted I meet him for a drink beforehand. I politely declined. He kept saying “if you change your mind” and “if your plans change” and comments to that effect. Finally, finally, finally the date was over. I was free.

Until midnight the next night when he called (I didn’t answer) and said “Happy New Year! I really can’t wait to spend lots and lots of time with you this year. I hope you’re having a great night. Call me later.” Um, I’ve never called you before. I’m not going to call you. You are freaky and creepy and scary. Whatever happened to “where’d you go to school” or “where’d you grow up”?

The worst part was, I did “break up” with him (I say that because obviously we were in a relationship…to him) over email and he just did not get it. He kept calling. And emailing. And calling. And emailing. Finally the poor kid got the picture.

Here’s to hoping this date goes at least a little bit better than either of those.