Best Worst Dates Ever

It’s Valentine’s Day, single and flaked out on the couch, what better time to reminisce about that dating thing I vaguely remember doing.

I don’t date often, so I usually date well, and first dates are generally a good time. Like that fella I met for a movie and we hit it off so well we decided to go out for dinner afterwards. While driving down McLeod Trail looking for a place to eat, we were so caught up in conversation and banter we reached the city limits before we remembered we were looking for a restaurant.

Or that guy I liked so much I got up early for a date that started in the morning (and ended up going for 15hrs). A day that started particularly early for me so I could make sure I had time to shave my legs. Something of importance as he had asked me out for lunch the week previous and as we sat in the park eating take-out chinese and “lunch” moved into it’s third hour, I started to wonder: “Hey, is this a date? It kinda feels like a date.” Then I look down at my cross-legged shins in the grass and thought: “Well, I hope it’s not a date, ‘cause I totally need to shave my legs.”

But more fun to remember are the dates that didn’t go well. Like the guy I met for a walk in the park. Nice afternoon, but aside from kicking up a bit of dust, the earth did not move. Partially because I’m a bit of a shit, and partially ‘cause I really didn’t know for sure, as the date wrapped up I asked him what he thought – in fairness to me (i.e. I’m not a total shit), the question was precipitated by him previously saying he could tell in less than 5 minutes if there was gonna be chemistry, so I didn’t think it was totally off the mark to just ask. I was actually surprised when he said “Yeah, I’d like to see you again.” (the fact that in my head I said “REALLY?” should have been a clue as to how much chemistry I was reading). I was then secondarily surprised to not hear from him again. And even more surprised to run into him later and get sucked into one of the longest, most awkward conversations I’ve ever been in – he just would not stop talking to me (and he clearly didn’t really want to be talking to me), no matter how many outs I gave him. Awkward! An awkwardness highlighted by having to look over his shoulder as  my friend tried to act like she was shopping, all the while shaking in silent laughter. Really hard for me to keep a straight face through that one.

You’d think that would be the end of one of my best awkward stories ever, but this was destined to become the Never Ending Awkward Story. A year later, another friend (who had never met him) was shopping where he worked and went to ask him a question and well, the tale is best told through a rough re-creation of her internal dialog at the time:

“Hey, I think this is that guy Valerie was talking about.” [being as this was one of my best awkward stories, I didn’t hesitate to tell it] “Oh, I faltered over my question – distracted, remembering that awkward story.” “Oh, he noticed I got tongue tied… and just looked me up and down.” “Oh God, I think he’s checking me out! He must think I’m into him, getting all flustered around him” “Now I really can’t remember what I was going to ask him” “Wow, this is really awkward…”

Awkward, and a beautiful awkwardness that just keeps spreading, but in the worst date ever category, first runner up would have to go waaaay back to when I was sixteen, at one of those drunken house parties where none of us had enough sense to know how to drink. In the back seat with my beau to be, getting a ride back to my place, my darling date proceeds to vomit…into a cardboard box…which, naturally, leaked. This delightful experience is only my second worst date however, ‘cause with a bit of coffee…and mouthwash, it was retrieved from utter disaster.

My worst date ever also has it’s origins in drunken house parties, much later in time, when most people had learned how to drink. After having met this one particular guy at several parties in a row, we finally ended up one on one, outside the party group. We went hiking. As a novice hiker, I wasn’t keeping the pace he would have set; he did not make a lot of effort to disguise his annoyance at this – a fact that did not endear him to me whatsoever. So we had a very lonnnng, painful, awkward date thoroughly NOT enjoying each other’s company (though the scenery was lovely).

Sadly, the highlight of that outing, for me anyway, was watching him walk through long grass and immediately break out in hives (allergies – guess he wasn’t so rugged after all). As much as I was enjoying a bit of karmic kickback, I did manage to refrain from giving him a hearty Simpsons “Har! Har!” and was even able to show a bit of concern for his wellbeing, and was glad to find he had an inhaler with him.

The best part of this worst date ever would be that the whole time we were trudging through the woods in grumbling silence, I wanted to grab him by the sleeve, look into his eyes and say: “But…but…don’t you remember?…How completely captivating I am…when you’re drunk.”

And that, would be my best worst date ever story.

So, those of you not busy with the flush of love on this sainted day, let’s hear your stories…best dates, worst dates, Valentine horror stories. What else were you gonna do today?

p.s. Sorry, no images for this article, my photo collection is – not surprisingly – short on pictures from first dates. But hey, wouldn’t that be a fun first date: “Nice to meet you, let’s go to Sears for a photo shoot. Dibs on the 8×10! You can have the wallet sized.” Ah…awkwardness immortalized in film. Any takers? Only $19.95.

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Queen of Unrequited Love

I’ve got this great self-correcting feedback mechanism for unrequited love; it goes something like this: if I’m into you, I think you’re just the cat’s ass; thing is, I’ve got enough self esteem to know I’m pretty awesome too, and if you haven’t got the good sense to recognize that, well that shows a considerable lack of judgment on your part and how can I possibly admire someone with such a significant character flaw? Ta-da! End of crush.

snow-queenSo I have to say I was surprised to find when I was at a party playing around with fortune telling cards (taken from a group of cards called “The Love Pack” …pausing for a moment to allow B-52’s Love Shack song to get fully stuck in your head) to pull the Queen of Unrequited Love. Figuring unrequited love may be more than just me crushing hopelessly on some fella, I started to think about unrequited love in all sorts of dimensions.

There is, of course, the good harmless crush, which first and foremost is great practice for having those hummy falling in love feelings without actually having to risk anything – I love you Corey Hart! (or at least I did when I was 14, I am so over you now). That puppy love, where you can just enjoy and admire someone with no reasonable expectation of it going anywhere. In my more mature crushes (or at least more recent ones) I’m also finding that what attracts me to someone I will never actually date can often be things I’m seeking out in my own life. I once had a crush on a guy who was warm, kind, active, outdoorsy, made a living helping people… and when I realized the attraction was going nowhere I also realized what I saw in him was practically a road map of where I wanted to go in my own life. It really had very little to do with him.

I think crushes become unrequited love and create suffering when you shift from dreamy thoughts to latching on to expectation and need. As someone who has spent more time on the dump-ee end of relationships and less on the dump-er side of things, being on the receiving end of an unrequited crush is a foreign and really uncomfortable thing for me. I had the occasional time in my spin at internet dating where I could feel some guy latch on to me, wanting so much, needing to express so much, that it would really make me backpeddle and want to say: “Whoa dude! Whatever it is you think you need, I don’t have it; you have to find it for yourself.” Or less diplomatically: “Run away, run away!” The thing is, that kind of unrequited love not only causes the lover suffering in their unfulfilled longing, but for a recipient with any kind of sense of what is going on it sticks them with the burden of a need they cannot fulfill. Icky, sticky place to be. And the part I really can’t get is how someone could persist in projecting feelings onto someone, wanting deeply from someone, without any kind of return of affection; that seems like a decidedly unloving thing to do to yourself. Don’t you deserve better than to keep wanting something from someone you will never get?

So, dreamy, visioning, harmless crush kinda thing = good.
Pining, yearning, can’t live without you unrequited love = bad.

With that in mind I feel compelled to look critically at my current unrequited crush – well, still not sure of the unrequited part, but definitely ill timed – what with launching this web site, trying to write with sincerity, and bucking up the courage to  follow my dreams, I’m doing just about all the emotional risk-taking I can handle right now. The dating stuff is kind of back-burnered in my world right now, regardless of where said crush may be at. But I do have to ask myself not only whether my affections (even if I’m choosing not to act on them) are likely being returned (if also not acted upon) or if I’m getting to the point where the self-correcting mechanism is gonna have to kick in; but also what impact are my feelings having on said crush. Am I attaching desires and hopes to this guy? What am I drawn to anyway, what does that say about my life right now and what I’m needing in it?

I’m pretty sure that Jerry McGuire line “you complete me” is one of the creepiest concepts going. I’m certainly not interested in being the missing card for someone sad about not dealing with a full deck. Buddha’s “work out your own salvation” is more my style. That said, as I shake off years of growing up in a post-feminist era where I learned women had to be STRONG and INDEPENDENT, I’m recognizing it isn’t always about me alone, but sometimes how I am in a relationship and what I learn from that interaction. I’m still trying to find that balance between recognizing no one is an island unto themselves, and no one is just half of a pair of chopsticks either.

And I don’t know whether this crush is just part of me learning more about me, learning to understand and love myself more; or part of a beginning, learning to share and bond and play well with a partner; or some lovely, mixed up combination. I don’t have a lot of answers right now, but I’m exploring just being present with the feelings I have and not having to do anything about them, whether I’m the Queen of Unrequited Love or not.

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