Dear readers,
I don’t know what the heck is going on. Men seem to be falling from the skies. Funny, smart, interesting and good-looking men. Yay me, right?
Wrong! The Gods of Love are still raining on my parade. They are hurling lightning bolts, baseball-sized hail, thunderous roars and soaking my love feelers with icy rain drops. Let’s explore my latest misadventure.
I met him the same night my girlfriends and I were having an awful Grouper date. He was part of another Grouper that we snatched in a very covert operation to another bar. He was hot, well-dressed, smart, nice and, to top it off, he had piercing green eyes. And he was from Minnesota. Guys from Minnesota are mandated to be nice, right? Over the course of a few weeks I was about to find out, I was very wrong.
I went out of town right after meeting Mr. Hockey. While I was gone, he texted up a storm. He asked about the wedding I went to! He asked about my work presentations! He asked me just to ask! Through the fun small talk and witty banter, we set our first date for Thursday.
Thursday comes around, and he tells me he has to cancel at 5:30 PM. WTF? But my WTF moment didn’t last too long. Mr. Hockey showed his nice Minnesota manners by calling me to explain how he couldn’t get out of this hockey game he had to play in and how he was going to make it up to me by taking me to dinner, etc. I finally agreed to a date for next Saturday. We were both going out of town but on opposite schedules so it took some time for this to finally happen.
The next week rolls around, and pretty late in the week, I realise I hadn’t heard from Hockey at all. Is this date still happening? Did I imagine all of this? Turns out Mr Hockey/Mr. Perfect lost his phone so he sent me a LinkedIn message to confirm our Saturday date. LinkedIn was a weird choice but a much easier place to find someone if you only know their first name and where they work.
Saturday comes around and I finally get a call from Mr. Hockey. At this point, I am fuming yet again. I had sent him texts confirming our date but hadn’t heard back until the day of. What was going on?? First, this date was canceled. Then he lost his phone. Then I hear back at the last minute. Well, we discovered on the longest-awaited first date in history that our phones weren’t getting each other's texts. Yet another clue from the Love Gods that they were about to ruin this completely for me.
Our “second” date was hanging out with him and his roommates at a trendy bar downtown on Friday night. I was only able to stay for a bit because I had to run to another event after. As we were getting ready to say goodnight, something weird happened. He pulled out his phone to look at the time and was getting a text from what I believe was another female candidate. The reason I think this is was another female admirer was not because of the actual text. I didn’t catch the contents but I think I caught the name of the person texting him. It was “A Girl’s Name + A Nationality.” For example, “Lindsay German” or “Sarah Chinese.” I won’t personally reveal the actual girl’s name and nationality.
Listen, boys and girls. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. When you first start dating, it’s IMPLICITLY understood that you’re dating other people. But it’s absolutely no fun to EXPLICITLY know, be told (tippig my hat to you, Man Child) or see some evidence that the other person might be engaging in hanky panky. There goes the mystery, the hope and the possibilities that come along with it.
No matter, I tried to ignore this gnawing feeling in my gut. Maybe I read the name wrong? Maybe this was just a friend? Oh, the Love Gods were hooting and hollering from above, gasping for air in between.
Our third date was the next day, a hiking trip in the North Bay. It was so fun and so romantic. Mr. Hockey/Mr. Perfect and I laid down at the beach, we hiked up the mountain to a lookout where we kissed, and we topped off this perfect day with nice meal that he paid for. On the drive back to SF, the gnawing feeling pushed and shoved its way back into my gut, warning me that this giddiness wouldn’t last long.
I wish I had listened. I extended him an invite to attend my Cinco de Mayo party the next day, AFTER he confirmed he had no plans. He said he would stop by and asked me to send him the details.
Well, you can guess what happened on that incisive sombrero-wearing, tequila-shot-pounding day. Mr. Asshole Hockey didn’t show up. He “forgot” he had friends in town and they decided to go to this “beach, pizza gathering” instead. As the party wore on and I got progressively more inebriated to levels a party host should not reach, Mr. Asshole Hockey became progressively more elusive. He finally said he wasn’t coming at all. My emotions then led me to do the stupidest thing possible: call him. As you can also guess, this call didn’t go too well.
Two days later, I texted him to apologise. I acted way out of line. He let me know, 24 hours later, that the call made him nervous, and although he had fun on Saturday, this call made me question things. I said that I totally understood but said that I’d like to see him again if he was up for it.
Never. heard. back. At first, I was bummed. How could I screw this up so royally? He was perfect!
But then I got mad. Very mad. Who does he think he is? I was a perfectly lovely and understanding companion through our brief dating journey. I gave him a second chance when he canceled our first date, and I went with the flow through all the phone snafus and last minute changes. Though an angry tequila call isn’t fun for anybody, especially so early on, he also provided me a reason to make this call. If you’re really into someone, you fucking go to their party. You don’t flake on them. And if you do flake, you make it up in the most wonderful way possible. If you’re really into someone, you would forego a hick-up here and there. It became obvious that he either wasn’t that into me or was just looking to have fun. Our conversation topics were always about music, the outdoors, hobbies and travel. Never about relationships or feelings or our dating history. In his text back to me, he mentioned he had “fun” on Saturday. It didn’t say “I was really starting to like you but...” Hockey boys just want to have fuuuuun, hockey boys just want to have fun!
Good luck to you, “Girl X Nationality Y.”
XOXO,
Dating Aficionado
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