08.28.08
Date #1: Crushing Out at Fresca
P. was heading out of town to Portland the next week, so we hung out in my neighborhood the Sunday after he showed up, unexpectedly, at my show. He had trouble figuring out where my apartment was, so he called: “Where are you again? I’m walking right by [insert shop near my house].”
I was standing outside my door, looking down the street for him. “I’m right past [insert same shop near my house]. Which way are you walking?” I asked. Cell phones to ears, we saw each other. He walked right up to me, arms outstretched in that same “hey!” gesture he gave me when he walked into the Sweetwater, and gave me a huge, passionate kiss. What an amazing way to start a first date!
The plan was pretty loose. We decided that we were going to decide where to eat when he got there, so we decided to head to Fresca, a local Peruvian mini-chain. We walk over, grinning ear-to-ear and buzzing with nervous energy. I love that part of a relationship so much, when you both know you like each other but you have no idea how it’s all going to play out. It’s so exciting.
We walk in, and see that there are two seats at the bar. P. started walking toward them. “Do you want to sit at the bar?” he asked, his face alive with the possibility. “Yeah!” I said. “I love doing that at sushi places. You get to watch everything happen.” He started telling a story about how he learned how to make some really good mixed drinks by sitting at the bar, observing the bartender, and talking to them about their secrets. Then he started telling me about a business idea he was working on a while back: bottled mojitos. (Apparently, the trick is in getting the perfect mint flavor.)
It was one of those nights when every offhand comment leads into a great conversation, when by sharing these weird, little observations you’ve made about life, you discover so much about a person’s history and their outlook. It felt so comfortable.
Not long into the date, he looked at me and shook his head. “Man, I am so crushing out on you right now,” he said. “Me too!” I said, surprised. It had been forever since I’d felt this way about someone, and it had happened so quickly. I liked how direct he was. Normally, I don’t like to lay all my cards on the table — there’s too much risk of either adding unnecessary pressure that can prevent the burgeoning relationship from growing naturally or opening yourself up to getting hurt. But it was really refreshing to just be upfront and have it be OK. We kissed at the bar. We were caught up in the moment — in all the moments, really.
At one point, the guy sitting next to P., who was a little tipsy, pointed to the ceviche we had ordered and said he had never quite figured out how to pair wine with ceviche. After he left, P. turned to me and said, “That happens to me all the time. I can’t figure out why.” “It’s because you’re so open,” I said. I realized that’s one thing that really drew me to him, too.
In all fairness, I must note that this date happened in May, and I only wrote down the details in August. So forgive any marks of a faded memory on the recounting of it.
08.06.08
Email #2: Friending on Facebook
Back in April or so, I was out with a bunch of coworkers and my friends Tiffany and KP. Within minutes, Tiffany and P., who I met for the first time that night, were joking that they were husband and wife. So when D. invited me and Tiffany to the birthday dinner he was organizing for P. a week or two later, I knew why I was invited: I was the link to Tiffany.
Or so I thought. After talking with P. all through dinner (with us declaring at one point that we were both so great, we would try to find people to fix each other up with), P., myself, and D. went to a bar where Tiffany was going to meet up with us (it turned out she couldn’t make it). As P. left to go to the bathroom, D. said, “I think he likes you.” And to be honest, as much as I was enjoying talking to him, that possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to take action.
So I friended him on Facebook. He responded the next day.
May 3 at 10:49am
Dude, I will totally be your facebook friend if you will tell me what I’m supposed to use facebook for. Is it like Twitter but slower?
Your luddite friend,
P.
And then,
May 3 at 10:54am
And I’m sorry for boring/offending you out of [the bar] on my Birthday. I think I was talking about sex or singing about sex or something that was probably both offensive and boring at the same time (maybe you were offended by how boring it was, which is probably worse than being just straight-up offensive). Anyway, thanks for coming, and next time I promise to be blandly exciting instead.
I thought that was hilarious.
May 4 at 2:08am
Blandly exciting. Ha! I was neither bored nor offended on your birthdee, just sleepy. My new-apartment resolution is to get to bed early (I’m not doing so well so far, as you can see by the timestamp on this message). It’s not entirely my fault. I’ve had a bunch of gigs.
Facebook is clearly just a vehicle for Scrabulous. Oh and the return of the annoying forwarded chain mail, in the form of FunWall.
Did you ever get to sing on your birthday?
Note my subtle mention of gigs. It’s my trump card, really. His reply:
May 5 at 7:18pm
No! There was no singing! I have never done karaoke, and I had mentally prepared myself to do so that night, but no. A dark spot on an otherwise fine birthday.
I just don’t understand why I need Facebook. I have a Flickr account, a Friendster account, a Twitter account…do I need a FunWall on top of all that? Do I need to play vampires and werewolves? Really? I want to understand, I really do. I want to be…popular.
How was your gig? I have to come see. When are you playing out next?
Sadly, the next gig I had was up in Marin, with my bluegrass band. He asked where, because he grew up in Marin. I mentioned it was at the new Sweetwater in Larkspur, and that was that.
I didn’t really expect that 10 minutes after we finished playing, P. would walk in, arms open in a “What the…?” gesture. It took me a few seconds to believe it was him. “You’re done playing?” he asked incredulously. “I thought you’d be playing until midnight on a Thursday night.” Alas, no. We played a half hour over and we were done by 10:30.
“Want to hang out with us for a beer?” I asked.
“Well, yeah!” he said. A beer at the Sweetwater with the band turned into a beer at the Silver Peso with Prentice, P., and me. “I really like him,” Prentice said as he was in the bathroom (I love how trips to the bathroom are the times when secrets come out). I felt the same way.
We walked Prentice back to her car, he walked me back to mine, we talked outside and nearly froze to death, then we sat in my car to warm up slightly and talked some more. And then he kissed me. That kid is a goooooooooood kisser.
Guys Who Talk a Good Game at the Beginning
I have a crazy friend John, who isn’t actually crazy but is one of those people who things happen to. The youngest of 5 or 7 kids, the only boy, and the only single one in a very Catholic family, he had the worst luck dating. Until he met this girl Jennifer, who as far as we all could tell, was perfect for him. She was as geeky as he was, smart like he was, super nice, pretty, interesting, etc. And after six months, they broke up.
John only talks about himself in long stretches, so if you can get him to open up, you know you’ve got your next hour or so accounted for. I finally got him to tell me why they broke up. The condensed version: “In the beginning of relationships, I always talk a good game,” he said, “I say all the right things and do all the right things, but it’s not sustainable.”
So basically, he says everything girls want to hear, then he realizes that it requires work, so he stops. Sound familiar, ladies?
It pretty much describes every relationship I’ve been in. But I think what actually happens is that the guy is in full wooing mode at the beginning. He’s doing all sorts of things for the girl, and the girl loves it. She appreciates it. So she starts doing things for the guy. And that sends the signal to the guy that he doesn’t have to do everything anymore, and so he starts doing less, the girl starts doing more and eventually resents the disparity in effort OR she gives as much as she’s getting, which is nada, and the relationship fizzles out
Guys who talk a good game at the start are, in fact, interested. It’s just that they lose interest when they start having to work to make a girl happy. And why is the girl unhappy? Usually because she feels she’s doing more than the guy and wants the guy to step up. That’s when not planning dates becomes an issue — when it’s no longer the guy taking the initiative or even a quid pro quo.
Basically, what I’ve learned in my hiatus from blogging here — as I’ve been actually dating someone and as, more recently, I’m watching it fizzle out — is that the Rules and Men Are From Mars are right. Guys stay interested when they have to work a little. Not a lot, because games are as much of a turn-off for guys as they are for girls, but a little. It’s how we’re programmed.
So next time, because, yes, there will be a next time, I’m going to appreciate the nice things a guy does for me at the beginning and show him that that stuff makes me happy. Because guys who are semi-serious about a relationship want to make girls happy. They want to feel useful. And you have to let them make you happy at the beginning if you want them to keep doing it throughout the relationship.
