Well Carrie got Big and I landed myself a mixed up, funny, vaguely nuts fortysomething whose take on dating is to examine the hell out of a potential romance.
G arrived for our date, immediately eliminating my fear of a no-show (you all know why!). I was finishing off one of those difficult meetings, which actually turned out better than I thought it would. When I got back to my desk, he had already called.
When I arrived, I was greeted by a tall, dark man with the remnants of an 80s floppy wedge haircut and the kind of middle age spread, which usually happens after a guy abandons the gym, doesn't play enough rounds of golf and gives into multiple business lunches. He was still kinda cute.
Our conversation was light and fun. He talked about work a lot. Why do some guys do that? It's almost as if they feel they are defining their status as a potential mate, by banging on about how successful they are.
He name dropped... a lot, but before I knew it, we had talked away an hour and he leaned in for the cheek to cheek.
"I don't want to compromise you in case any of your work colleagues are walking by".
"Don't worry" I said cheekily, "I'll tell them your my Dad.
We both laughed and just a few minutes later, he texted me to say when he would be online.
After the usual techie hiccup, which always happens when you actually want to talk to someone online we talked. It was all going well until the prickly subject of children reared its indelicate head.
"So do you think our genes are compatible?" he typed...
"Well you ain't ugly and I'm not either, so I guess our kids will be amazing looking", I replied chirpily.
"So you want kids?"
"Hell yeah!" I quipped - big mistake !!
"With me?"
"Well we've just had coffee so it's a little premature!" I responsed like the smartarse I am.
"Explain your comments further and in more detail", was his response.
I felt like I was in the middle of some life exam, with all of my responses being assessed and individually scored. Everytime I tried to steer the conversation to more fluffy topics, he kept going on about that one comment. Over and over.
Then we crossed that boundary that we are all super cautious of when we first meet someone new poetry aka sex. While some women often revel in the getting to know you process, some men just want to cut to the chase and hit smutville with all guns blazing as soon as possible.
Don't get me wrong I enjoy a touch of smut just as much as the next woman (H's text messages have spoilt me for life, as no one has quite matched up to his particular style of cheeky texts!), but after one latte......ppppppplease!
"So how do you like your poetry?"
"Sorry I don't want to talk about that now and online"
"But I need to hear something from you", was his reply
"I've only just met you. I'm not going to get your rocks off online, because you asked me to", I replied.
"I hope you don't think I've been too intrustive with my questioning of you. I just need to be sure of some things. So any questions for me?" he asked hopefully.
"No questions" I said, glad to end the conversation.
A person has every right to ask questions of a perspective love interest, how else will you get to know somebody. But when the questions take the form of a court examination and some of them are frankly so blantantly inappropriate, particularly when you literally just met; then the only impression you can get of your examiner is a very negative one.
No comments:
Post a Comment