I know, I know. You're wondering how a blog centered around dating managed to miss a post about Valentine's Day. As I am single (forever and always), my day consisted of getting dinner with an old intern of mine and then seeing Ethan Hawke in various stages of undress for three hours (Blood from A Stone by New Group!). Which, to be honest, was not a bad way to go.
However my real circa-Feb 14 story was from the night before. There was a Groupon for a singles party on February 13th that was a cheapo admission for two people. I dragged one of my best friends along with me. She had met a cute Australian the night before so I told her that her primary duty would by my wingwoman. We polished off a bottle of wine at her apartment and with my significantly lower tolerance, I was in a good place to be put into a potentially awkward/hilarious situation.
And I must say, she was a very good wingwoman. She knew how to work the room, how to successfully ditch people, how to get free drinks. I ended up breaking my unfortunately long dry spell and giving out my number to two guys. Both two old for me, I've soberly decided.
Bachelor #1. Now, this guy was SUPER attractive, in my humble opinion. We didn't talk very much. He gave me the eyes earlier in the evening, and I was about it. My girlfriend dragged me over to the dance floor at one point and we were dancing even though really no one else was. My friend saw this as a way to seem less lame than the rest of the girls there. Regardless of HOW we seemed, we did manage to get a certain amount of attention. The hottie from before came back and started dancing with me. My friend, as an excellent wingwoman as she is, peaced out. Before long we were kissing on a couch. I asked his name. Phil. Okay. Age? 35. Kind of old. I asked what he did and he said "I work for immigration!" I was a little taken aback by his enthusiasm. "So you... " -- before I could finish he jumped in with "Deport people!" I don't even know if that was what I was going to say, but it worked as a topic of conversation. "Do you like your job?" I asked, and he, ever-exuberantly replied, "Man, I LOVE it."
It was at that point exactly that I knew this wasn't meant to be. If the 12 year age difference wasn't a big enough hinderance, his true love of deporting people was a little perturbing. And he lives on Staten Island. Strike 3. I had given him my number at this point, though. I used my honed acting chops from high school and started panicking that I lost my friend. He said he'd help me find her but I managed to lose him (or he managed to lose himself) in the swarm of single people. He did not call and I'm a little relieved, frankly.
Bachelor #2. My friend and I had actually spoken to this guy for a significant portion of time earlier in the evening. He was nice, but clearly older and I wasn't very attracted to him. He bought us drinks though and we had a nice enough time until my friend and I decided to go to the bathroom and then dancing etc. (see Bachelor #1). This story picks up pretty well from Bachelor #1. After successfully ditching my hottie deportation officer, I sincerely was looking for my friend and ran into Bachelor #2, who had met her, and who I enlisted to help me locate her.
Now, this guy is nice and smart. Got a Masters from Columbia and now works for a respected local news organization. He was really kind. After we couldn't find my friend he asked me to dance. Dancing turned to kissing and we discovered the lower level of the bar/club place we were in, sat under the stair well and made out for a little. I'm fairly inebriated at this point in the evening, and I don't think I was particularly nice to this guy. I discovered he was 37 and I think I kept telling him he was too old for me. I would bark orders at him while we were kissing. Inhibitions were gone and I didn't care. Eventually we see my friend walking up the stairs with a sleazy looking blonde guy and I run to her. She seems relieved to see me and pushes me against a wall and tells me to save her from said sleazy guy. So we just talk in each other's faces until the creeper goes away. She finds it funny that I've reconnected with Bachelor #2 and the three of us galavant around the bar and hang out until it was time to leave.
I gave Bachelor #2 my phone number while stealing french fries from off-duty security people. Ten kinds of classy going on here. He called me two days later, and I still haven't called him back. Truth is: a 14 year age difference is a lot. And I'm not super attracted to him.
Also one of my other friends managed to find his OKCupid profile and I clicked on it without knowing what I was getting myself into. So now I look like a total creeper. So that's probably that.
The night gave me a certain confidence I was lacking before. Since November, I've been on a self-improvement mission that has been relatively successful so far, but my dating took a backseat to myself. Now, I've been on a few random dates, but I'm not interested in spending time with people who I don't really like. I have great friends, and any person I date should meet should meet the high bar they've set. I truly love my friends and really feel loved in my life while remaining very single. But it's nice to feel wanted and attractive and feel like the measures I'm taking are not going unnoticed. I have hope that when I really throw myself back into dating, I may have more success because of the work I've put in.
Time will tell!
