05.31.09
Email 18.1, Date 5: He’s probably not that into me
After posting about the guy who seemed happy to keep our online conversation strictly online, I worked up the nerve to see if his schedule had opened up. He responded, asking me about some things I had mentioned in my last email. He also said that he’d be in touch on Wednesday to let me know when he was free.
Ball’s in his court, I thought. If he doesn’t email me, then fine, he’s clearly just not that into me. Wednesday night, I logged on to OKCupid — no email. So I checked out his profile, wondering if I was really that into him.
He was online.
Now, on Match or whatever, it doesn’t matter. You could completely stalk someone, and they wouldn’t really know. But OKCupid pops up a little note: “[username] just checked out your profile.” Caught in the act. I panicked, hastily closed the window as if that made a difference, and felt somewhat foolish.
The next day, I had an email from him. We made plans to meet for lunch, joked around a bit, and sent longer, more frequent emails to each other over the course of the next couple of days. At one point, he wrote, “You are a fantastic writer!” (He mentioned in his profile how words are important to him.)
We met for lunch, and it was immediately comfortable talking to him, though the conversation still had some of the first-meeting nervousness. He makes great eye contact. We dove right into a fascinating discussion on print and online media, ordered tacos, and talked some more. The conversation did peter out a bit, but my “I can only do an hour” lunch turned into about an hour and a half. I walked back with him to BART, and he gave me a nice hug goodbye, saying, “I had a great time. I’d love to come see your band sometime.”
That, friends, is the kiss of death. If he was interested in me, he probably would have said, “Let’s do this again,” or something. It’s sort of the musician’s equivalent of hearing, “I’ll call you” — an implied continuation of the relationship without any plan to actually follow through. Wanting to be one of 50 or so people in an audience when I’m onstage at a gig that is likely to be weeks away felt like a romantic brush-off. But who knows? He does like music.
I sent him an email before I headed out of town for Memorial Day weekend reiterating that I had a fun time. We’ve exchanged a few emails since, but I don’t really get the feeling that he’s that into me. He seems like a nice guy, though.
And for those who think I’m prejudiced against short guys, he’s 5′8″ and I would definitely meet up with him again. So there. :)
Missing Signals: Eye Contact
Dating, like anything, has its ups and downs. For me, if it were weather, it would be like highs of 70 and lows of about -30 plus a wind chill. Or to borrow my (happily coupled) friend Lessley’s expression, “Dating sucks until it doesn’t.” Constantly focusing on the subject by blogging about it is partially to blame, as is my friends’ questions about when my next post is on the way (you can’t force genius, people — kidding!). But I have to admit that by focusing on it so much and by putting my personal life out there for people to comment on, I have figured out a lot in this past year.
A lot of forces have recently joined to help me begin to confront my number one obstacle, namely sucking at reading guys’ signals. My problems are twofold:
- I think guys who don’t like me actually do like me. (Evidence 1. Evidence 2.)
- I don’t know when guys are actually interested in me.
Now, at some point since I’ve started blogging, just based on law of averages, there has to have been a couple of guys who have been interested in me. Odds are, one or maybe even more have been guys I was or would be interested in. So how did I miss them?
I recently started reading this blog on Marie-Claire’s site, a Year of Living Flirtatiously. The author, Maura Kelly, posted something about how a woman needs to make eye contact with a guy roughly 13 times before he’ll approach her.
13 times.
Really. 13 times.
That, in a nutshell, is why I suck at dating.
I went out for happy hour with the bros on Wednesday, and D. was staring past me at one point. “Are you watching the game or is there a hot girl back there?” I asked. “Watching the game. I have a sixth sense for spotting hot girls, though,” he said. I don’t. I don’t even notice other people in the bar. When I hang out with my friends, I only really pay attention to them.
I had all this in mind on Friday night when I went out with two girl friends, R. and A. A guy at the end of our table looked over toward me when they were up getting beers, and I met his gaze. The feeling was so foreign to me. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that once at a bar, let alone 13 times with the same guy.
So my next step is to do exactly what Maura did when she found out about the magic of the baker’s dozen: test-drive that shit. When I go out, I’m going to practice making eye contact with interesting-looking guys. I think this strategy might also help when I’m out with the bros, too. I mean, after 13 looks to another guy, I’m clearly not dating any of the guys I’m with, right?
05.10.09
They only like me for my laugh
On Cinco de Mayo, I was chatting a bit with D., my newest bro. He made a joke, we all started laughing, and he said, “There it is!” “What, my laugh?” I asked.
“Yes! When I first met you, your laugh freaked me out,” he said, “but then I really liked it.”
“And then you wanted to make me laugh just so you could hear it?” I said.
He pointed right at me, shocked that I had read his mind. “Exactly!”
In that moment, I suddenly understood, at least partially, why I constantly misread signals. Guys try to make me laugh because I have a really loud laugh (as anyone who knows me or has heard the podcast knows). There’s nothing more validating to your sense of humor than to have someone laugh uproariously at your joke. I do that for people.
In fact, at my friend Liz’s wedding, our friend Dave came all the way over to my table at one point to make some joke. He looked disappointed when I only laughed a little. “I bet those guys that they could hear your laugh all the way over there,” he said, a bit crestfallen. He wasn’t disappointed that I wasn’t laughing; he was disappointed because he had just lost $5.
When a guy repeatedly tries to make me laugh, I think he’s interested in me. But no. It’s purely for their ego. Or, alternately, to win a bet. I don’t factor into the equation at all except that I happen to be the vehicle for my obnoxiously loud laugh.
I feel oddly better now that I’m aware of this, even though it means that I was misreading the one signal I thought I could actually read. Why did no one ever teach me this stuff?
Email 18: The audacity of hope
A few weeks ago, I got a great email on OKCupid:
Date: 4/6/09
Subject: A million thingsThat’s what I thought of after reading your profile. Seriously. And i don’t usually say that. It was really fun to go from category to category and enjoy each one. Here are a few of the ones we had in common:
dog person
good napper
couch curler
head/hair masseuse
sarcastic
warm-hearted (handed too, but that can come in.. er, well, handy)
cocktail connoisseur
Wilco, Welch, and Iron and Wine
coffee
group dynamics
Mr. CashAnyway, I know compatibility means more than matching lists, but I did enjoy seeing so much in common. Plus, as a lawyer, I can cover you if you happen to deviate from your law-abiding ways. :)
I was more excited about this than anyone else who’s emailed me so far. He sounds smart, interesting, and quirky — three key traits. His profile was great: engagingly written without feeling at all forced. He likes dive bars, knows where to find good deli sandwiches in the Bay Area (this is an enviable skill), and enjoys mini-golf and cupcakes from a bakery in my part of town. In the last section of the profile, the “You Should Message Me If” part, he wrote: “You’ve traveled back in time with an important message from my future self, stock tips, or the key to saving humanity from forthcoming zombie/robot/alien invasion. Or you’d just like to have coffee sometime.” Funny.
Unfortunately, two factors converged in the days after he sent me this really nice email: the weather was AMAZING here (a rare occurrence) and I was sick of online dating. I wrote back to him about a week later.
Date: 4/12/09 11:23 AM
Subject: A million thingsHi, J.–
So sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you. I haven’t been able to stand staying inside on the computer when the weather has been this nice (right now, I’m eying the shaft of sunlight that is just creeping into my backyard. When there’s a bit more, I’m dashing outside to practice mando in the sun. Such a fun way to spend a Sunday.)
We should really just meet up. I’d been thinking that as I read through your profile (thanks for reminding me about [a local bakery's] cupcakes — I still prefer Miette’s chocolate with coffee buttercream icing, but [the local bakery] is far more convenient). But then I got to the [REDACTED] part: I think redaction jokes are strangely funny. Few people agree with me.
Although, I do have to clear one thing up, I’m a terrible napper. I’d just hate for things to start off with a misunderstanding.
Talk soon?
I made one mistake: I didn’t really ask him about himself. But I felt so strongly that we should just get together for coffee, and I didn’t want to drag out the email conversation. I wanted to get to know him in person.
Date: 4/12/09 11:23 PM
Subject: A million thingsInteresting. What exactly does a terrible nap look like? Do you kick and twist? Do you snore? Do you fidget and get up and lie back down every five minutes? Are you also a terrible snuggler? spooner?
And I agree that Miette offers many things worth coveting, including their cupcakes. I certainly wouldn’t kick them out of bed for eating crackers.
And I completely understand enjoying the sun. It is hard to resist, so I have been doing the same. Unfortunately, I’m headed out of town for a week or so, so perhaps we can figure something out next weekend or the week following?
I just noticed that he sent his email 12 hours after I sent mine. Odd.
Date: 4/13/09 9:44 PM
Subject: A million thingsA terrible nap is more like a thwarted nap. When you lie down and think of all those studies that say you’ll awake the most rested if you only sleep for 40 minutes, so you set your alarm for an hour, knowing it takes a while for you to fall asleep. Then you toss and turn for 55 minutes before finally falling asleep, only to be woken by your alarm 5 minutes later. I shudder thinking about it. I think that’s why I love it so much when I can actually nap. I need to block off a whole afternoon, and then, I only ever actually fall asleep if I’ve done a really long run in the morning. That actually might be enough incentive to get me to do more long runs…
Aren’t you glad you asked? ;)
Let’s chat when you get back in town. I should be in town this weekend and next week.
He wrote back:
Date: 4/19/09 9:13 AM
Subject: A million thingsHey!
I’m very glad I asked! That’s a great answer, although that counsels for more napping, not less. :)
Wanted to drop you a quick note to let you know that my week has gotten a bit crazy. It’s the end of the semester and a lot of last minute things are landing on my plate (students wanting to meet to talk about projects, papers, graduating, etc.), so let me sort it out and be in touch about possible plans!
Even though he was putting it off, I did really appreciate that he let me know what was going on (and also reiterated that he’d like to hang out). I wrote back:
Date: 4/19/09 11:55 AM
Subject: A million thingsHi, J–
Thanks for writing. No worries at all. My schedule’s been a bit crazy, too. (I’m playing for a friend’s wedding next weekend, and I can barely eek out a night to practice.)
Good luck with the end of semester craziness.
Talk soon,
N
No response. Now that I reread my email, I wonder if the tone came off as brusque. I also didn’t really return his reiteration of the “let’s hang out” theme. Maybe I should email him again? Is that pathetic? I don’t want to be like this guy, but then again, what do I have to lose?
05.05.09
Imperfection is pretty
One of the bros just sent me this link with the message: “love this post.” I love it when guys say something honest that also happens to be what you want to hear.
05.03.09
I’ve become a bro
Two years ago, I started working at a very social tech company, and all of a sudden, I had all these amazing guy friends my age. Around the same time, all my girl friends were getting engaged, getting married, having kids, or settling down with their boyfriends. So after work and often on weekends, I hang out with my bros.
In our Sunday Irish Breakfast Football Club (basically, an excuse to meet at a pub, start drinking at 10 AM, and watch football all day), I was often the only girl. Ray, from the podcast, has me in his “Bros” group on IM. Gary calls me Brosephina. And I get invited to (some of) the bros nights out (if it involves sports, strippers, or more serious broing out, they wisely don’t invite me).
I kind of like it. I mean, I love these guys, so I love hanging out with them, but I also like being one of the bros. Lately, though, I’ve seen the downside of being a girl bro.
A couple of weeks ago, I went out for a Friday happy hour with some friends, and I was joking around with one of the guys there, who, by the way, is ridiculously hot. Like insanely good-looking. At one point, after I had been talking to another guy, he put his arm around me for a second. I wondered if it was the “marking his territory” move that guys do.
That Saturday, I ended up meeting up with that same group, and at the end of the night, he said, “It was really fun hanging out with you this weekend,” gave me four fist bumps, a high-five, and a hug. I didn’t really read anything into it (he was pretty done-zos by that point and I’m absolutely not his type), but still.
I saw him again at a happy hour the next week, and he immediately started talking to me about the difference between flings and hook-ups. And that’s when it became clear to me: I’ve become a bro, even to guys who don’t know me that well.
This is not a good development for a number of reasons:
- I am horrible at accurately reading guys’ signals. I always think guys who just want to hook up actually like me and that guys who like me just want to be friends. When D.D. and I were hanging out as friends, he said, “So, are you having fun hanging out?” I thought, “Oh, he wants to make it clear that he wants things to stay as they are, that we’re just friends.” No, he meant that he wanted to hang out more. So when he went in for the kiss at the end of the night, I went in for our standard hug. Faces collided, awkwardness ensued. Although, that did make it my most memorable first kiss.
- How am I ever going to meet a guy when I’m surrounded by bros? Before the BRT recording session on Thursday, I met the bros at a bar down the street to watch the last two (of three) overtimes of the Bulls-Celtics playoff game. It was me and three dudes, watching sports. Even if some guy gives me cred for watching sports, the natural assumption is that I’m dating one of the three. It’s like that Seinfeld episode, when some guy hits on Elaine when she’s out with Jerry, and Jerry gets offended. They guy didn’t know they weren’t together, so why would he assume they weren’t? Most guys would guess they were together.
I do love my bros, but I also need to make more of an effort to hang out with my dwindling pool of single girl friends. Also, I need to stop immediately referring to guys by their last names. That might be part of the problem.
