Date Night At Craigslist.com
By WordyGrrl
We will meet in a safe, public place. A coffee shop, probably. Always, there is the expectation of immediate chemistry. Love or Lust at first site or it's all off. If, within the next 30 minutes, we do not think each other potentially farkable at some point in the very near future, we'll simply cease communicating after this. No returned calls or email.
The downside is that I won't be hearing back from a fellow fan of early John Waters films who enjoys a good thrift store find and learning the difference between good wine and crappy wine. The upside is that I won't know about your inability to keep cocaine out of your nose or that you still haven't been able to get your alcoholic, jobless ex to move out.
We will spend the next several minutes asking each other very personal questions, expecting profound truthful answers, while we ourselves struggle to pose as the perfect date -- witty, charming, intelligent with just a certain touch of sexy mystery.
I'll know immediately that you're putting on an act to be witty, charming, etc, instead of just being yourself. And because it's the dating game, I can't be rude enough to say "Oh gawd, just knock it off. You're not that good an actress, and my disbelief isn't suspended." Because I'm doing the same thing myself, only because I think it's expected. And I'm feeling pretty sick about it, because it's so not real.
What I'm really thinking is that... I'm not in the mood for a friggin' job interview. I have things to do. I need three pairs of socks, a humidifier (for $30 or less) and I wouldn't mind picking up some movies at the library before it closes at 6pm. Ooh, I hope they have something by French and Saunders. Gawd, those women are brilliant and funny. And a foreign film that's so human and honest and poignant it makes my eyes leak. And a seriously good horror film that's real thriller-scary instead of being just shocking, blood-gushing gory trash. Those are a dime a dozen.
Anyway... Oh, yeah. We're on a date. Sorry. We have airs to put on.
It would be totally off the track if I told you what I needed to buy today and asked if you wanted to come along. Besides, I might find out what kind of socks you like, how good you are about sniffing out a bargain or what kind of movies you really like to watch. We might get hungry and I'd find out what your suggestions would be for a good snack -- and I'd see how you treat the restaurant staff. Are you a kind and friendly patron who tips well? Or are you one who considers the server "a servant, whose job it is to fawn over me with servitude?"
Those little things would tell me a helluva lot about who you really are in a very short amount of time, but because we're on a "first date" we have to ask and answer the official questions. Most of those seem to be based on "what will you do for me?" And I let you do the asking, because I'm polite.
"If I had a bad day, how would you cheer me up? Are you a top or a bottom? What are you into sexually? Do you have any baggage? Do you smoke weed? Are you completely over your ex?"
Again, there's the difference between what we think and what we say. It's not subterfuge. It's politeness, so I don't quite tell you the immediate, gut truth:
Sweetie, I only met you 15 minutes ago. I don't even know your last name, much less what makes you happy. And it's none of your goddamn business yet what I do in bed. Besides, just because I liked something with the ex doesn't mean I'll automatically like it with you. Or, you just might be the one to open up a deliciously kinky side of me nobody knew existed.
Baggage? If you define that as knowledge gained from past experiences, good or bad, then yes. I have learned what things I will roll my eyes over but let slide and what I absolutely will not put up with.
No, I don't lump marijuana in with all the other bad drugs. It really should be legalized, especially for medical reasons. However, I had a bad experience with a pothead roomie who never had money for her share of the rent but ALWAYS had money for weed. And she stayed stoned 24-7. If you're just the typical "I'll have a whiff once or twice a month" type, I'm good with that. But you'll have to prove that to me first. All because of that crappy roomie. See? That's baggage. Totally unfair, but there it is.
Am I "over" my ex? Well, yeah. I wouldn't be doing this dating thing if I was still somehow hoping I'd wake up and the past would magically cleanse and reverse itself. I have endured the relationship with the ex, accepted the lessons both good and bad, and have moved on. She's either basically a good person and we remain friends of a sort, or she's evil and I have cleanly cut off all ties with her and the vicious pack of bitches she surrounded herself with.
Another coffee? No, I shouldn't. It's after 4pm, and I want to sleep tonight. Besides we both seem a little jittery. Couldn't be this dating pressure, could it? Ha ha ha, of course not!
Well, I'd love to stay but I have some errands I have to run.
It was really nice meeting you, too!
Give me a holler if you see me online, okay?
Take care now! Don't worry about the table. I'll throw the cups and stuff away...
We will meet in a safe, public place. A coffee shop, probably. Always, there is the expectation of immediate chemistry. Love or Lust at first site or it's all off. If, within the next 30 minutes, we do not think each other potentially farkable at some point in the very near future, we'll simply cease communicating after this. No returned calls or email.
The downside is that I won't be hearing back from a fellow fan of early John Waters films who enjoys a good thrift store find and learning the difference between good wine and crappy wine. The upside is that I won't know about your inability to keep cocaine out of your nose or that you still haven't been able to get your alcoholic, jobless ex to move out.
We will spend the next several minutes asking each other very personal questions, expecting profound truthful answers, while we ourselves struggle to pose as the perfect date -- witty, charming, intelligent with just a certain touch of sexy mystery.
I'll know immediately that you're putting on an act to be witty, charming, etc, instead of just being yourself. And because it's the dating game, I can't be rude enough to say "Oh gawd, just knock it off. You're not that good an actress, and my disbelief isn't suspended." Because I'm doing the same thing myself, only because I think it's expected. And I'm feeling pretty sick about it, because it's so not real.
What I'm really thinking is that... I'm not in the mood for a friggin' job interview. I have things to do. I need three pairs of socks, a humidifier (for $30 or less) and I wouldn't mind picking up some movies at the library before it closes at 6pm. Ooh, I hope they have something by French and Saunders. Gawd, those women are brilliant and funny. And a foreign film that's so human and honest and poignant it makes my eyes leak. And a seriously good horror film that's real thriller-scary instead of being just shocking, blood-gushing gory trash. Those are a dime a dozen.
Anyway... Oh, yeah. We're on a date. Sorry. We have airs to put on.
It would be totally off the track if I told you what I needed to buy today and asked if you wanted to come along. Besides, I might find out what kind of socks you like, how good you are about sniffing out a bargain or what kind of movies you really like to watch. We might get hungry and I'd find out what your suggestions would be for a good snack -- and I'd see how you treat the restaurant staff. Are you a kind and friendly patron who tips well? Or are you one who considers the server "a servant, whose job it is to fawn over me with servitude?"
Those little things would tell me a helluva lot about who you really are in a very short amount of time, but because we're on a "first date" we have to ask and answer the official questions. Most of those seem to be based on "what will you do for me?" And I let you do the asking, because I'm polite.
"If I had a bad day, how would you cheer me up? Are you a top or a bottom? What are you into sexually? Do you have any baggage? Do you smoke weed? Are you completely over your ex?"
Again, there's the difference between what we think and what we say. It's not subterfuge. It's politeness, so I don't quite tell you the immediate, gut truth:
Sweetie, I only met you 15 minutes ago. I don't even know your last name, much less what makes you happy. And it's none of your goddamn business yet what I do in bed. Besides, just because I liked something with the ex doesn't mean I'll automatically like it with you. Or, you just might be the one to open up a deliciously kinky side of me nobody knew existed.
Baggage? If you define that as knowledge gained from past experiences, good or bad, then yes. I have learned what things I will roll my eyes over but let slide and what I absolutely will not put up with.
No, I don't lump marijuana in with all the other bad drugs. It really should be legalized, especially for medical reasons. However, I had a bad experience with a pothead roomie who never had money for her share of the rent but ALWAYS had money for weed. And she stayed stoned 24-7. If you're just the typical "I'll have a whiff once or twice a month" type, I'm good with that. But you'll have to prove that to me first. All because of that crappy roomie. See? That's baggage. Totally unfair, but there it is.
Am I "over" my ex? Well, yeah. I wouldn't be doing this dating thing if I was still somehow hoping I'd wake up and the past would magically cleanse and reverse itself. I have endured the relationship with the ex, accepted the lessons both good and bad, and have moved on. She's either basically a good person and we remain friends of a sort, or she's evil and I have cleanly cut off all ties with her and the vicious pack of bitches she surrounded herself with.
Another coffee? No, I shouldn't. It's after 4pm, and I want to sleep tonight. Besides we both seem a little jittery. Couldn't be this dating pressure, could it? Ha ha ha, of course not!
Well, I'd love to stay but I have some errands I have to run.
It was really nice meeting you, too!
Give me a holler if you see me online, okay?
Take care now! Don't worry about the table. I'll throw the cups and stuff away...
Labels: craigslist, dating, WordyGrrl
posted by LNewsEditor at 5:27 PM
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