After some serious over-analysis of last night’s—or last
week’s (depending on when I post this or when you read this I guess, whatever
catch up here)—disaster
as per my relentless, neurotic M.O., I’ve realized what a disease my
involuntary fantasies can be. You know the ones. You meet a guy and one thing
or another leads you to think, “hm he could be kinda great.” And this naturally
leads to thoughts of which matching sweater vests you should wear in your
Christmas card picture. Even though logically you know it probably won’t get
past the first few glasses of wine after you somehow manage to insult his
mother, favorite sports team and haircut—in that order. It’s hard to keep your
mind from trotting along to some blissful utopian where he is thoughtfully
arty, hates watching football and loves doing dishes.
Anyway, multiple times last evening (and a few this morning)
I thought I should give Jonny Come Not At All the benefit of the doubt for
reasons that solely existed in my head. Because he never really bothered to
give me a solid explanation or a decent apology for that matter. I thought I
owed him a bit of understanding as a basic human courtesy. Then my friends
lovingly pointed out that I, in fact, owe this guy nothing. I don’t know him
from Adam and he had done nothing leading up to this point to suggest he
deserved the courtesy of Mother-Theresa-like patience. He certainly didn’t do
me any favors with the way he mishandled the situation. So good riddance Prince
Charming turned Duke Detestable, I wash my hands of you!
But maybe not always? I mean, yes, the only reason I would
give this guy or some other putz another chance at a first impression would be
the hope of potential. And we certainly shouldn’t be building our relationships
on mythical potential. Unless you want to end up writing a blog on dating years
after the thing crumbles to embarrassing pieces of wasted dreams. In that case,
knock yourself out. Still, I look at how easy it is for some people to pick up
relationships like they’re on sale on J.C. Penny, and I have to wonder if they
don’t pursue the things heavily despite a few major stumbles even early on.
It’s not an issue of settling, because these people seem to
date eligible partners. The only thing that throws me is how quickly they can
make these relationships happen. And I think maybe I’m doing it wrong? Maybe I
need to make more of an effort to pursue that fantasy despite a few early
glitches? I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this because I really don’t
think that is the route I should take. Especially in this particular case. Because
dude obviously doesn’t give a damn about the impression he made so why in the
world would bother with him? But I do tend to give up pretty easily. Typically
all it takes is an empty promise to call and I’m handing my number to the next
guy. Maybe this just means I’m not as desperate as I think I am. Oh man,
wouldn’t that be great? If the only reason I haven’t found my Shnoodlecoot (I’m
using that little number on the next lucky guy for sure) is because I simply
don’t want it bad enough?
The thing is I think I have too much pride to give someone a
second opportunity to disrespect me. The biggest complaint I have about last
night isn’t that the date didn’t happen. It’s that I allowed the whole thing to
be strung out and I became a bit of a fool because of it. I should have simply
told him to forget it at least one of the three times he drug the wait-time
out. Not because my time was wasted—it wasn’t really I got some good blog time
in—but because my gentle little ego had be kicked around several times over the
course of one evening. That oughta learn me for next time. Five minutes late
because your sick grandma needed help with her meds? Unforgiveable sir, I don’t
need this nonsense from you!
Atta kid.
ReplyDelete