Musings from a Serial Dater

You Tell Me Who's Crazy

2009-03-11T22:18:00.000-07:00

Ok. I'm just going to lay out a timeline of communications, with a little bit of non-digitized life narrated in-between to keep things clear. Please do give my your opinions as to which one of us is crazy.

As an introduction, I met this man we decided to call Ronald a little over two years ago. This is the same reference as my post
Exhibit B and C, but I'll just re-post it so we're all on the same page.

2006 Agreed to appetizers. Chatted for the evening. He nervously asks to get together again. I say no thanks. Get home to an email asking the same thing (How many times to they have to get rejected???)

I write:

As far as getting together again, please indulge me in bringing up the
always-awkward topic of clarification. I enjoy intelligent banter and
philosophical discussions thoroughly, but buffered by friendship, and nothing
more. I am always eager to meet new people and determine who they are and why,
and my emotional unavailability is often discovered late. I hate to be
presumptuous in this thread of conversation, and please forgive me if I am, it's
just that I have too often been accused of cruelty, when it's really
forgetfulness--that not everyone is necessarily on the same page with social
engagements--and perhaps naivety. So, there's that, and chalk one up for awkward
candidness. ;)"

This paragraph was followed two days later by a Valentine's gift. I need to re-evaluate effective communication techniques.

Rejection attempt #2. Same guy. 2007:

Yes, I will be at Century on Saturday. I hate to be presumptuous, but I just
want to clear up something. If your feelings towards me are the same as they
were a year ago, you should know that mine haven't changed either. You are a
great guy, but I'm not interested in anything beyond that. You certainly are
welcome to come dancing on Saturday, but I just don't want your expectations to
be misled. Again, please excuse the presumption, but life is generally easier
when communication is straightforward, regardless of how awkward the subject may
be... :)

Mind you, these are verbatim. Right. So then we followed up with this post this post, from which I'll just highlight the relevant communications:

Over the ensuing year, he sends me an email anywhere from once a month to once a week, primarily containing his musings. He asks nothing. I usually respond nothing. Every5-6 letters, I shoot of a few sentence in response to not be entirely rude. I see him once or twice. He knows persistence.

I believe I may have showed up at another club meeting sometime in November. December rolls around and I start seeing him at salsa. Every week. Again, being well-bred and well-mannered, I graciously greet him and offer a dance (only because he's new and I so appreciate all the compassion and pity dances I got as a beginner). Again, he asks nothing, but this kid is a smart one. He figured out that the only way he was going to hang out with me was to show up where I was at. I'm at salsa every week. He came to salsa every week. See where this is going?By about the 3rd week, I send the email posted yesterday as Exhibit B #2...just clarifying in no uncertain terms that I AM STILL UNINTERESTED, even though he hadn't asked. I've never been that presumptuous, straightforward, or bold before. Sorry, not interested. That's that.He doesn't really respond to that particular note, but doesn't slow the communication--email and dancing. Ay-yi.

In February, he asked if we could maybe hang out in a setting where Ronald didn't feel as awkward and clumsy as salsa (and yes, he did refer to himself in the 3rd person). I decided that maybe I need to give a final, in person, face-to-face, once and for all, unequivocal no. I reply, "Yeah, we probably should chat."

Right before we get together, I send him this gem: "

Hey [Ronald]--

Glad it was such a cornerstone event for you and
congratulations for following your killer instinct for interview
questions.

I know you've been frustrated with your job situation
and lack of opportunities in your chosen field. Have you ever
considered taking a break from normal? Why not join the Peace Corps
or some international NGO and spend a couple of years overseas? I think
the adventure would be good for you! Then you can come back, write up all
your experiences and badabing! there's your ticket to fame and wealth. I
hear it's also a great way to meet chicks... ;)

Something to
think about!

This time, I schedule it for the week after Valentine's day to try and push off any potential action/reaction/creativity on his part. He did better this year by only sending me a very sappy e-card with a personalized poem. *sigh* But it was an improvement. We meet up (after his salsa class, at which he is now a regular attender) for dinner at a local pub.I start the conversation asking about his job and such. He answers...I ask a follow up question....he answers.....I let the silence go for a half a second before asking another follow up question....he answers....then looks at me expectantly for the next question. Geez! I gab on until the food comes.

Then I launch into the "Ya know, just not going to work," bit. He replies, "I know you're not interested right now and I know I can't provide for you the way you'd want right now and I know there are some thing I need to work on right now, so I understand what you're saying." Don't think so, buddy.

I try to explain that it's not a question of right now, but that we are unsuited for one another until death do us part.It was painful, but I believe by the end of the evening we had a meeting of the minds and ended amicably, albeit with me paying for my own darn dinner and drink. Sigh of relief. Clarification. FREEDOM!Email the next day. And the next. I bolted town for a bit on a work trip. He researched the city for me. I got back to another email. And the day after. Weblink the day after that. Text message the next. Two emails after that. The more I reject him, the more impossible I paint the options, the more he tries!

Ok, so we're on the same page, right?

After my rejection speech, he continues to send emails, about once a week. I thought we had come to a meeting of the minds on this. I send one email response (for a highly momentous occasion, a one line, "good luck"), but other than that, do not respond. February, March, April. In one of his email musings, he thanks me for being so supportive. Silence is supportive? Apparently. May.

We then have a month of silence. oh the bliss!

In July, we both show up for a party at a mutual friend's house. I get this excerpt:

"You’ll have to forgive me for being so aloof and stand-offish during the party.
I hope I wasn’t offending. As you can probably guess, I’ve been trying to avoid
you like the Mexican whooping cough for these past couple months, for
self-evidentiary reasons. Although for pragmatic purposes we’ll just chalk it up
to being so focused on getting a regular series of assignments for the Seattle
Weekly. OK?

So I’m sorry for that and being so chump change."

Love how he apologizes for my behavior. I avoided him. Nice.

Shortly thereafter, he got a huge break in his career, so I did offer him a "Congratulations!' Maybe I shouldn't have, but I really am a nice person, very, very deep, deep down inside.

Here's where things start to go downhill (just now? yes! Trust me, it gets worse!!)

This past August 2008: For three weeks in a row, he tries to make it to salsa. Each week, some freak event keeps him from coming. I don't recall exactly what they were now, but things like radiators exploding, and lightening strikes, and the like. Each week, he sends me a text message, followed up by an email explanation as to why he was unable to make it. By the 3rd week, I shoot back a text to the effect of "Maybe if you try going to church, God would look more favorably on your salsa efforts." He immediately sends back a reply, and 15 minutes later sends back the more clever retort he came up with after some thought.

Ok, back to verbatim.

From him:

"OK. I intimated that I'd be doing it your way tomorrow in regards to making
sure my boogeymen don't sabotage my efforts to go to
salsa.

Since you're wanting me to go to [Church] before
[dancing], maybe it would be fun to hook up before hand.

It looks
like I have to do a little bit of overtime on Saturday, a hated but necessary
task, otherwise I'd suggest making a day of it. However, the pursuit of lucre
intervenes and maybe it's just as well. Would you like to tag-team something to
munch on instead?

Your ever busy schedule permitting of
course.

It would help me avoid getting cold feet over a couple
things. And I kind of miss your company anyway.

Talk to you
soon,
[Ronald]

Me:

[Ronald],
I do believe that a personal relationship with Jesus Christ is essential
for life here and hereafter and I hope your spiritual pursuits are
fulfilled--for your sake, though, not mine. From our previous
conversations, you seemed inclined to think that a committed Christian faith was
somewhere along your path; your timing was the key sticking point. I would
love for you to have the joy and peace and purpose that come with a life devoted
to God. If I can provide an extra push to help you get over cold feet, I'm
happy to do so.

As to getting together, given your periodic interest in me, I think it
would be best if we limited our socializing to group settings.

Regarding this Saturday, I will be out of town for much of the day and am
not certain if I'll be back in Seattle in time for YP. I think you know at
least a couple of others that regularly attend, though, and I'm sure any one of
them would be more than happy to save you a seat!Take care, [Me]

Him:

[Me],

(Before reading the rest, be assured that I'm being cheerful
and upbeat here. Rereading it might seem otherwise, but I am in good humor.
Despite having issues with the throttle on my Mustang. Fords... I hope you're
not terribly cross or perturbed with me.)

Anyway. You have the
darnedest habit of getting a guy's hopes up and dashing them. Now you know
perfectly well the one and only reason why I would commit to going to church in
the near timeline.

And it's not like I'm totally against the
effort. It is just that I've got two strikes against me already in the newspaper
business. One coming from a community newspaper background. Two being my
political inclinations. If I go off and do something silly like getting
religion, that might just completely torpedo my chances of doing the the thing
that I was put on this planet to do.

Oh, and as for any
infatuation, I thought I made it rather clear that I am in no way, shape or form
able to entertain any hopes of pursuing that end due to a variety of reasons.
[Me], you're completely squared-away with a career, a house, etc. Me on the
otherhand, I'm a starry-eyed romantic who has this completely off-the-wall
notion that I can go oand single-handedly redeem the institution of journalism
in America. Yes I'm that ambitious. Or foolish.

So. There's a
reason I've made myself scarce since February. As a friend, please don't
rub it in. Because doing so is rather cruel.

Let's
be real here. How's this hicktown reporter supposed to support your extravagant
Belltown-condo-buying-jet-setting-lifestyle:-)

However, so as not
to suffer too much embarrassment I'll probably play the coward and skip out
on church this week. We'll see. Have made my mind up about
later.

[Ronald]

Post Script: Oh, and one last
thing. Since I have been more than perfectly honest with you in regards to
everything (And [Me], most guys aren't). During our last "real" conversation you
made the remarks that 1) "I'm not spiritual enough" and 2) I'm not "adventurous
enough".

I took this as a dare and have been trying since to
contradict your false impressions of me.

Now we can both agree that
the second statement does not apply to me.

As for the first, well,
I am spiritual [Me]. I just despair at ever having the ability to show it.

Oh, one more thing since words have meaning.

It has never
been periodic interest. My interest has been pretty continuous
ever since we first met at Hale's Ales.

And therein lies the
rub, oh you believer in mysterious miracles.

Me:

Hey there,

Thanks for the email and for your call [I let it go to
voicemail]. No worries, your upbeat and cheerful tone comes through just
fine. :)

I appreciate your honesty. It is indeed
rare. I have tried to be honest, as well, and (honestly) while you may not
be *pursuing* me, I'm not convinced that you are quite *ambiguous* towards me,
either. You've been avoiding me in person, but the steady stream of
emails, and occasional text messages and postcards, do tell a different
story. I'm mostly recognize it from other guy friends who are still hoping
the object of their affections will eventually awaken to seeing them as the
culmination of their hopes and dreams. Or at least agree to a date.
And the fact that you would agree to come to church with me (especially a church
that's so...how did you put it? extreme?) also indicated that I still have a
pull that your other Christian friends who so deeply care for you lack.

As for Christianity being the third strike against you, consider
this: While it may further prejudice some, it does come with access to One
with omniscient and omnipotent powers, which is pretty handy in any career
path. Trust me, the rewards far outweigh any potential drag. I don't
recall the exact phrasing of our last conversation, but I doubt my issue was
"not religious enough." It's not about saying all the warm fuzzy
platitudes, or showing up at church twice a week, or even claiming the
label. When you give your life to Jesus, it transforms you from the
inside. You see things differently. Your attitudes, your
expectations, your responses all change when you allow God to renew your mind
and your spirit. You begin trusting God to do the impossible, stepping out
in faith, and being certain of what you cannot see. The City Church is
indeed fairly...intense... for most people on the first few rounds, but it's a
great place to plug in and learn about God. However, it's certainly not
the only one! There are plenty of Bible-believing churches that can help
explain the crux of Christianity and support you along the way. You are
always welcome to visit some services with me--as my invited guest--whenever
you'd like. Except tomorrow because I still don't know if I'll be back in
town, although you're certainly welcome to attend without me. But you
already knew that. :)

(If you'd like to hang out before
or afterwards, I'd still like to include a few other folks in the mix for my own
comfort level, though. I'm sure you can
understand.)

Apologies for the frustrations and I hope my
explanations helped to clear up my perspective.

Have a good
weekend!

*sigh* Yes, I know. But I think God has a different miracle for
you. She might be blonde. ;)

Him:

I am very greatful that you aren't terribly cross with me. I've been staring at
those two unopened email messages for about fifteen minutes with the dread a
rabbit feels watching a ferret slink through its
warren.

Fortunately rabbits always build
other exits.

The biggest issue was that I was just bewildered
that you'd invite to something and then act like you're not supposed to be seen
with me.

E-mail is an imperfect medium. But the one thing I ask is
that you find a way to trust me enough so that you feel secure enough to let
your guard down and open up the way I've done with you. I've seen you let
your hair down, even when you've cut it short. (*rimshot*)

Don't
feel that it's incumbent upon you to be priggish and aloof just on my
account.

This hicktown reporter can have a good time too. So just
try to keep up. Although the whole church and salsa thing does put him at a
terrible disadvantage.

Oh. And maybe it would be easier if at times
you'd take point on the
"Gee-It-Looks-Like-I-Have-This-Complex-Relationship-With-A-Friend-But-I-Don't-Know-How-To-Proceed-Maybe-I-Should-Take-The-Initiative-To-Invite-Him-To-A-Function-Instead-Of-Having-Him-Spend-Money-Text-Messaging-At-All-Blasted-Hours-Of-The-Day".

(And
believe me [Me], we've all had those
"Gee-It-Looks-Like-I-Have-This-Complex-Relationship-With-A-Friend-But-I-Don't-Know-How-To-Proceed-Maybe-I-Should-Take-The-Initiative-To-Invite-Him/Her-To-A-Function-Instead-Of-Having-Him/Her-Spend-Money-Text-Messaging-Me-At-All-Blasted-Hours-Of-The-Day")

Party's,
socials, road trips, cowtipping, coffees, tagging Greg Nickles house. That sort
of thing.

Anyway. Chaperones are cool. Although let's just
pretend that they're friends.

[Ronald]

Post Script: Oh. And
I didn't mean for this email to be so long.

Post-Post Script: Oh.
And ambiguity is a rather ambiguous subject. Although, since I'm a little more
experience (although honestly, just a tad) I'm going to pull rank on you and say
this isn't terribly odd or unusual occurance. OK. Well maybe it is. But still.
And you're right not to trust those OTHER guy friends of yours. They sound
like a bunch of pikers and knee-biters.

Post-Post-Post Script: I do
prefer brunettes. And almost every male in my family have this incurable
fascination with redheads. But blondes are always bad
luck.

Post-Post-Post-Post Script: And I will be at [dancing]. Come
Deluge, Drought or act of Ford.
Post-Post-Post-Post-Post Script: And since
we're on the issues of posts, you better be keeping those postcards!

Me:

[Ronald]—

I feel that there's an underlying issue that still needs to be
addressed.You've stated in your recent emails that you have had a continuing
interest in me since we met. I don't know how else to say it, but
you need to get over your interest in me. Since our last conversation on
the topic, you indeed avoided me, but have made no effort to divert your
interest. You've narrowed in on my last statements of religion and
adventure as things perhaps standing in your way. These were just two that
I mentioned because I didn't see a need to list all the ways we are
incompatible. It's not just your financial standing or lack of a
passport. If you won a Pulitzer Prize and became fabulously wealthy and a
missionary on top of that, there are still insurmountable differences in our
personalities, our interests, in our respective l'essence de la Vie. [Ronald],
you have many wonderful qualities, but I have never considered you as a
potential interest. We are too different. I don't want to see
you waste any more time on me.

I wish you the best.

Him:

Don't think it is in me to be a missionary and given the
chance I'd turn down the Pulitzer. No joke. I've got little tolerance for
journalists who seek awards. The only one I've ever cared to, and set out to win
was the Third Place for Best Agriculture for the annual Washington
Newspaper Publishers Association awards.

It is a trick to write an
Ag. story good enough to get third but not good enough to get
higher.

As for the more important topic, I got through chatting and
communicating with [a mutual friend] and she offered a lot of good advice and
some information that I wasn't aware of.

Now since I'm all tied up
in a knot here, and since I've got a date planned later this evening and since I
have to figure out how to cram in watching Barack Obama's acceptance speech I'm
running on a short deadline.

So I'll edit out the long
explanations, excuses, lame jokes and 1970s disco trivia.

1) Please
trust me. It's a hard thing, I know, to ask. And I don't blame you for being
suspicious or saying no. But I'm pretty dependable when it comes to
veracity. If worst comes to worster you can always play the honorable gentleman
card.

2) Let's be cool.

3) Like The Fonz
cool.

4) And if it is alright with you, I am still game for
that "being a friend" thing people keep talking about. There are many things one
is good at and there are many things that one is lacking in. And I've found
being around people, who are often completely different, yields valuable
returns.

And you're someone whom I trust to learn a few things
from. Recipricosity.

5) Not to put the cart before the horse or
anything, but it was you who was the one that started opining about marriage and
joint-tax returns ever after. Whereas I was in the "Hey, I really like you,
maybe we should get to know each other more, etc." mode.

No
offense. There are a whole variety of things about you - which to be honest
[Me] you haven't really shared a lot about yourself - which are a complete
blank to me. There might be things about you which are a complete turnoff. That
toenail collection of yours, talking in tongues, your penchant for pet ferrets,
etc:-)

Instead of being beautiful and mysterious, maybe a little
more forthrightness might have solved this long ago. I don't
know.

See. Turning this problem back at you.
Clever.

Anyway. I do have to go. Like as of 5:15. I'll give you a
call later sometime.

I have a hunch there are still things under
the rug which need smoothing out.

[Ronald]

Post Script: One other thing has been bugging me for a year now. And I'm
always keen on when I hurt someone's feelings.

Last summer during
the "[A local broadway production attended by 20 of my friends]" musical you
weren't doing very well. Now I remember talking to you, meeting your dad right
before the play started. And I made a remark about you spending your time salsa
dancing, or being a great dancer, or something. You looked kind of aggreved and
then a short while later you had your episode.

I don't pry, but I'm
prying now since who knows when I'll have the opportunity again What was
that about? To say I was concerned was probably an understatement. But then I've
read too many Walter Scott and James Fennimore Cooper novels.

I don't respond.

He follows up with this :

As a note, not all, but some of my correspondence has been anxiety-driven
over worry for my little bro. Probably about four or five of my more goofy or
WTF emails. As you may have noticed, one of the ways I deal with trouble is to
make light of the situation. Gallows humor, very British.

Since I
have time now, before heading down south tomorrow I should probably add a couple
more things. You've been misreading my actions as an attempt to change myself in
order to impress you. "Maybe if I do this, the [Me] will come around".

Quite the contrary.

I've been wanting you to like me
just the way I am with all of my flaws and attributes.

I've been
emphasizing the adventurous, spiritual meme not in some attempt at passing a
test. I was correcting a mistaken impression you had of me. I think we can both
agree that I'm pretty damn "adventurous".

As for the "spiritual"
part. I'm still at a loss how to explain, and since you grew up in a
rather religious family, I'm sure you're no doubt rather
skeptical.

But I choose not to go to church because I
don't like those "fuzzy platitudes" and the times I've gone, that is all I saw.
But when friends whom I cherish and trust invite me to partake in something that
is very important to them, like [friend 1] and [friend 2] did and like
you've done - repeatedly - I'd be a cad not to share. If the
subjects weren't about King David killing off henchmen -so don't have sex in the
summer - or stories about whiny, spoiled yuppies who have everything
but can't seem to live a happy life, then I might actually show some
enthusiasm.

I'm kind of looking for something more. A lot more. But
this is a subject better expanded upon some time in the distant or near
future.

Another example is when you mentioned "if I won a Pulitzer
it still wouldn't be good enough, etc. If you knew me well enough you'd know my
disdain for that prize is only exceeded by the rigged contest put together for
(recent) Nobel Peace Prize winners.

This is obviously my fault for
miscommunication. But a lot of times I just assume things. Other times I'm
intentionally vague about myself because I do have a Puckish sense of humor. And
also I was quite obviously hoping.

None of this is meant to change
the status quo. It is just a statement of facts.

And to
reemphasize. Re-reemphize? Once upon a time you seem to have enjoyed my
company and seemed eager enough to seek it. I'm a great guy with unique
qualities. It is obvious I like your company. Sometimes you can be rather
charming...

So when I get all this family stuff sorted out,
whenever that may be, it would be nice to either rewind or fast-forward out of
this quagmire. Besides, I can kind of guess that you're rather busy and have
better things to do than wade through this garbage.

[Ronald]

I don't respond. He waits a month and a half then sends me this:

*Proffers olive branch*
[Ronald]

Me:

Here's the thing: I am not interested in you. I never have been
interested in you. I have communicated this fact to you on five separate
occasions. Meanwhile, I've tried to treat you like a friend. All my
gestures have been construed and interpreted as some latent, suppressed,
furtive interest. But I am not interested in you. And I have never
been interested in you. Therefore, I think any attempt at a friendship is
impossible.

Him:

[my FULL legal name],

It's probably fortunate I'm up to
my elbows with axle grease, helping my brother change the ball joints and wheel
bearings on his Jeep and can't write more.

A few
things...

1) It is true one of us has clearly and demonstrably
misconstrued the actions of the other. Despite my being completely honest, it
seems I've failed.

2) Will have to search back in my memory for the
one or two times you've shown any hint of friendship and see if I've
misinterpreted those rare acts of beneficience...

A) And Plan
B. And Plan C. Will be with Plan B tonight and with any luck the rest of the
weekend. If memory serves, I pointed her out to you the Thursday at [dancing]
right before flying off to Chicago. Ever since that night you've kind of
acted... odd. Certainly a coincidence.

4) It does get a bit
annoying trying to argue with you that I'm not good enough for you. And then
have you come back with the rejoinder (apparently five times) stating that I'm
not good enough for you. Then I have to agree while adding that it's important
to me that we remain friends. And then you come back and put on the table for
discussion the fact that I'm not good enough for you. Hurts a guy's pride
considering the circumstances.

5) I've got to go. If you look back
on my actions you'll see that I have been trying to get you to do one thing. And
that's just to LIKE me. Forget other four letter words that start with the
twelth letter in the alphabet.

[Me], I don't think you really
understand the kind of person I am, and that is no doubt part of the problem why
you don't understand my actions.

Here's the deal. When I met
you Hale's Alehouse and the Dragonfly Restaurant over two years ago I've been
trying to breach your defenses. Because you sit apart from everyone like a
citadel on a hill. Dazzling to behold but forbidding, it takes only the stoutest
soul to approach you. And when they do, they're turned away at the first sight
of your barbicans. Since that time over two years ago I've been curious
whether your battlements encompass rich tapestries, treasure rooms and a warm
mead hall to welcome those privledged few allowed inside. Or do chill
drafts blow through the empty corridors of a stony
heart.

I've seen through enough chinks in your defenses to
hazard a guess. At any rate, I do have to go right now. Despite the imperfection
of this email.

[Ronald]

Post Script: Yes I've been re-reading Ivanhoe. Hence the craft of
that one paragraph. What's the point of reading classical literature if it
doesn't crop up into your conversation at ill-timed moments. *Note attempt at
humor for those who have the habit of misconstruing*

Two weeks later, from him:

[Me],

Not sure if it helps but I never was under the impression
that you had any furtive interest of any sort. For the longest period of time I
honestly believed that you didn't like me at all, thinking perhaps that I was
too gauche or not up to your academic standards. After that, I was under the
assumption that you were just "palling" around to recruit me into church; a
common strategy that. Getting attractive gals to bring lonely guys before the
pulpit.

After that, well, I didn't know what to make of your
friendship. You never explained yourself nor are you in the habit of
answering questions.

At any rate, I'm writing to say Happy
Halloween for starters. Hope you have a good time tonight. Also I'll be going to
the [dance hall] for their Costume Ball/Disco Party. As you are no doubt aware,
I have a certain affectation for music from that period, [Me]:-) Now I have to
figure out how to "Do the Hustle".

Also, it is almost certain I'll
be drawing on my investment in time and money some
Saturday in the future. So no angry recriminations if
you see me there. Or at events or parties thrown by mutual
friends.

And with that said, my car tonight will probably drop its
exhaust system or I'll be abducted by Sasquatch, what with my luck in heading to
[dance].

Have to go right now. I do miss your wit and company.
Sorry I brought things to this point.

[Ronald]

I don't respond.

He includes me in two group emails in November. Sends me a Merry Christmas email. Then we both show up at the same New Year's party. I surround myself with friends and hardly move from my defensive position all night. I do not acknowledge him. I don't even look at him. We do not interact. He took pictures the whole night, quite a few of me. New Year's Day, I find this present in my inbox.

Him:

Yes I know it's 4 a.m. Gotta get these sent out.
And no I don't have anything
more intelligible to write at the moment, although I'll think of something no
doubt...

[Ronald]

He sent me pictures from the party. Charming. (Except the pictures weren't, many were actually quite unflattering of most withing the frame.)

A few minutes later, he follows up with this:

More of the first.
Have the whole clutch up on Facebook.
Account.

Anyway, just click the yes on Friends for Facebook as I
sent you an invite and you took me up on joining and you can peruse at your
leisure.

Or wait until someone tags you on the photos, and then you
should be able to see.

Or do neither.

Could write more
but I won't. At any rate, it was good to see you, even if we had our backs to
each other strategically throughout the evening. Oh, and I miss being able to
talk with you. So there.

Late January, Him:

[Me],

This is just a pre-apology for anything that goes wrong
tonight. It's 9:03 in the P.M and I'm heading into [dancing] to see if I
can't make good on any of those Salsa lessons I invested in once upon a
time.

Have interviewed high-powered politicians and celebrities,
been shot at (twice) and have been involved in a Hollywood-style car chase at 55
mph plus speeds on a gravel forest service road, pursued by an irate (and
probably packing) operator of an illegal junkyard in Cashmere. In fact I've been
in more adventures than your average civilian this side of military or law
enforcement.

But I only really get nervous psyching myself up to
walk out the door in a situation like this.

Hopefully everything
will turn out splendid. Or at the very least, not terribly
awkward.

[Ronald]

So he did a suprise attack that night and was waiting for me in the lobby. I was shocked to see him (I hadn't seen this email before I got there), so when he made a crack about my parallel parking (apparently he had watched it), I just murmered "Thanks?" and quickly made my way into the dance. I escaped into the bathroom for about 10 minutes then went to the coat check. He was at the balcony and didn't see me pass the first time, but on my way down to dance, he caught me and asked, "Does it make you uncomfortable that I'm here? Should I leave? Do you want me to leave?" I shrugged him off as I walked away, saying, "I don't care, do what you want." He didn't dance the entire night, just watched from the balcony. He made sure to say goodbye as he was leaving.

He then sent me a short, non sequitor follow up email.

I don't respond.

The next week, Him:

In the old days, riders would be dispatched under flags of truce and hostages
exchanged. Instead, email shall suffice.

There's a 50-50 chance
I'll be at [dancing] again tonight. Maybe this time, won't have stage
fright... No promises though

Then he invites me to an event.

Then the infamous Feburary 14 rolls around and he sends me an "Awkward Valentine." Quite literally, that was the name of it.

A week and a half later, I get this:

Hey [Me],

Have squirreled away the resources and found the time to
take another set of dance classes. Am up to Salsa 3. Whenever I start a project,
I finish it.

First off I am considerably rusty. And yesterday, had
to go to class with a blister on the back of my right heel the size of a
quarter. My own fault. Was breaking in a new pair of hiking boots on a four mile
hike. They need insoles, since my feet are so slender.

End of
prologue.

It's been a year since we've been able to talk at any
length. And not being able to be friends with you is a
disagreeable experience. Who do I have to talk to, now, about classical
literature? Or Orson Scott Card novels for that matter:-)

It would
be nice to just hit the reboot button and start things over afresh from this
time last year.

Will give you a call as soon as I can. Juggling
some things at the moment.

[Ronald]

Post Script:
Although professionally, I might have to pick your brain too.

That same day, he posts a note on my online bookshelf site, he calls and leaves a voice message, and sends me a Facebook message once again begging me to accept his friend request.

I reply to his email with this:

I'm feeling stalked and you need to stop.

Him:

Oh good gravy [Me]...

I'm trying to give you a second chance. While
also trying to tie some lose ends up.

Look, I've been completely
honest about everything. Everything. Whereas you have been a bit more opaque.
And I've done everything to avoid you. Going out of my to do
so.

Here's the deal. We came to our understanding last year in
February. That was the way things were going to be. Then the day before I headed
to Chicago, last March, I showed up at [dancing], on a Thursday with my rather
beautiful and buxom friend and you acted completely weird and strange. Didn't
realize it at the time, but in after thought it sure seemed like you
were jealous. Could be wrong, but then I've only seen that reaction
from jealous women.

I've asked you questions before and you haven't
answered them. Why did you befriend me in the first place? Why, if I'm such a
bad person, did you invite me to go dancing with you and [another friend] two
Octobers ago? Why did you insist that I take classes? Or come along to plays? Or
go to church with you?

Surely there was something that was
important enough to make you want to invest that time. And don't give me the "I
would have done it for any random person on the street, ax murderer or junkie or
Latter Day Saint".

Here's nother example of me being brutally
honest, even though I probably shouldn't be. I had a date yesterday. Going out
on a date with a different person this weekend. Been with a few different gals
since last we met. So please don't think that I'm holding a candle for
you. I'm not. So can we table that topic of discussion. Until after I win a
Pulitzer at any rate...

The reason I have been in contact with you,
right now, is because I'm going to be taking a rather big chance,
career-wise, really fast. The gears are turning on it as I type. You're someone
whose judgment I respect. You're someone whom I admire. It's probably because
you're one of the few people who happen to be almost as smart as me. Not to
mention almost as good looking, almost as moral and almost spiritually
inclined.

One or two of those were meant to be
funny.

Whenever I write you, or hang out with you or whatever,
usually good luck follows. (That might seem an odd statement, but you might have
noticed I'm kind of superstitious and keep track of those things. It's a long
discussion).

More importantly, I could use just a little help
here. I rarely, if ever, ask people to help me. I wanted to ask this to you in
person, so dang it [Me], would you take the time over the next few days
to send along a few prayers for me?

That's
it.

That's why I've been wanting to get ahold of
you.

I know you've frowned on my journalistic efforts, calling it
"just a job". Wish I could explain to you more at length that it is something
more than that. Sure you go to church. But I'm not sure if you can truly
understand what it is like to be called to do something, to save something.
Maybe not a text message from the Burning Bush but damn close. (And that's too
long of a story to relate).

So am I worthy enough of your
consideration and help? Because I'm not going to resort to standing
outside your window in the rain with a boombox. Because that's so
1980s...

[Ronald]

Post Script: If you refer back up to
paragraph #3, you'll notice that bit about me going out of my way to avoid you.
It's worth repeating. I've said it before. The reason I have been avoiding you
is to set aside all doubt that you might have in your pretty little head that I
have been stalking you. That's why I haven't gone to [dancing] in forever. It's
also why I haven't gone to church.

Some more facts. I ain't going
to [another locala church]. The folks at the [his association], for whatever
reason, have a bug up their ass about the folks there. Committing career suicide
is not in my cards at the moment.

I'm only going to a church
that has some of my friends. The only two houses of worship, locally where I
have friends I trust enough to go with happen to be [other local church]. And
your little conclave.

Would have gone last August when you invited
me. But then you got all weird and wobbly, thinking things that weren't so.
Instead of just accepting what I had to say at face value. (Forgetting
that whole thing about me being completely honest).

Would have
gone since. But I don't want to be THAT GUY who is looked at sideways who, Oh My
God, is stalking [Me]. See how complicated things are. And see how I'm trying
honestly to uncomplicated them?

Help a guy out,
OK.

Post-post Script: Anyway, if the below still holds. I'll accept
your wishes. Not sure who's giving you advise but it's pretty poor. But I've
always allowed people to make their own decisions.

Can I just clarify that when I saw him dancing and he pointed out his little friend, I wasn't sure who he was talking about and wasn't convinced he even had another friend there. I was just annoyed he showed up on a night I didn't expect to see him there. I have been nothing but sweet about his career ambitions because I try to always be gracious towards those struggling for success.

I don't respond, but I do contemplate a restraining order.

The next week, he is at the dance hall's anniversary celebration. Again, he doesn't dance, but he does have a camera and isn't afraid to use it. I know he took several pictures of me that evening. Fortunately, my wonderfully dedicated friends posted themselves throughout the ballroom to warn me if I needed to move my location to avoid him.

A week later, I get this:

[Me],

This goes against my better judgment. So don't take it
as anything else than what it is. But I'm sending you one of the shots
that
I took at [the dance hall's] 12th Anniversary Bash. Out of the couple
hundred
shots that I took, there were two or three with you in
it.

Can send
more if you want. But this is a very good one of
you, which is surprising since
I didn't think my camera had enough lens at
the time to capture this
image.

It's a happy picture. You are
doing something you quite
obviously love.

One of my great loves
is photography. One day, I'll
be able to get to the point where I can go
across the country or overseas a
month or so out of the year to cover
stories from afar.

In the
meantime, I enjoyed that evening and
it gave me the opportunity to practice some
difficult low-light photography.
And it was a good show. Liked the guy with the
guitar and the ABC dancers
the best. On the other hand, wasn't expecting
"Yosemite Sam" in a dress,
although it would have been better if he had kept the
dress
on...

Anyway,

[Ronald]

Anybody? Anybody? What the heck?

When Things are Too Perfect

2009-01-22T20:24:00.000-08:00

Everyone likes the perfect date. The man who thinks of everything and knows all the rules is a rare find. It's what every girl is looking for, right?

So my date, we'll call him Scott, was charming from the beginning. I met him at a dance and he stood out from the crowd...mostly by just being normal. :) He was attractive, interesting, educated, and even had rhythm. What's not to love? We go out for appetizers and spend 3 hours talking about life and beliefs and everything in between. He asks questions, he carries the conversation, and most importantly, he picks up the $70 happy hour tab (food too, people, I wasn't smashed!).

Our next date was for dessert. I had just extracted myself from an unpleasant situation and he was sympathetic, concerned, and understanding. Again, it was a wonderful evening of conversation and I enjoyed my time out with him. We disagreed in many areas, but the conversation was challenging, not uncomfortable, and a marvelous invitation to display my witty repartee as I met his ideas and positions with logic and humor.

The next time he called, he invited me over to his house to cook some ethnic specialities. I hadn't gotten the serial killer vibe from him yet, so I readily agreed to an evening of free food and no work to get it. Perfect! He has already prepared most of the dinner and just has a few things to finish up. He shows me how to make a popular dish, obviously taking great pride in his ability and presentation--adorable. The table is set, the candles are lit, there's lovely music in the background; he hasn't forgotten a thing.

I should mention at this point that while I enjoy our conversations thoroughly, in no deviation from character or past experiences, I feel no spark, no interest, no romantic attraction. I know our core beliefs are different, and I'm not quite convinced of how focused his attentions are. Have I really caught his interest or am I just the girl of the month? Granted, I'm a huge advocate of casual dating. I think too many people have unrealistic expectations of what comes after saying, "sure," to a Friday dinner invite. Hypocritically, if I don't think I'm special, I'm not giving an inch. I'll flirt, but I'm guarded. (I think I can flirt in my sleep, through major crises, and perhaps standing on my head. It's rather incorporated into my personality these days).

After dinner he caresses my hand while gazing intently into my eyes -- hm...what is he expecting? Like I didn't know. He pulls out the Altoids. That's when it hit me--he done this so many times. He hasn't forgotten a thing. He knows the right order, the rules, the expectations. Everything is...perfect...perfect, like ... like a machine. Churn out one date, two dates. Happy hour, dessert, home cooked dinner, Altoids, --Altoids! Danger!

I knew I wasn't really interested and I didn't want to kiss him. I'd have to start planning "the dodge." He suggests we move our conversation to the couch, which is more comfortable. Indeed it is. He keep offering wine ("No, no, I'm driving, really, no, I have to drive back, nope, none for me, thanks. DD for myself, you know"). He imbibes liberally. As we're sitting in the couch, I keep my gaze straight ahead. I know any false move in his direction would be the end of my determination for chaste lips. Trying not to move a muscle while trying to carry on a quasi-normal conversation isn't entirely easy, by the way.

I can tell I won't be able to keep this up long, so at no particular trigger point, I jump up and say, "Thanks so much, gotta go!" I can tell he's slightly confused. "Did I say something?" (Well, yes, but it's been over the last few dates--I'm just not interested. Sorry dude). "No, no, it's a school night, you know. Alarm clock hastens and all." I gather my things and turn to say thanks and goodnight. He goes for the kiss. I turn my head to offer my cheek. I don't know if it was the alcohol or what, but seeing that he missed his target, he tries again. I put up my hand and mumble something inane like, "Oh sorry, I just don't know you that well," as I quickly give him a consolation hug and bolt for the door.

Yes, an awkward exit for all parties involved. Note to men: When she gives you the cheek, you're done. It's over. Not that night. Don't try again. Also, it's great for things to go well on a date, but sometimes perfection can backfire. Nobody wants to feel like you've got your formula down and you know what works so just plug in the next girl and see what happens. Maybe it felt rote because he was only interested by inches and I hadn't given him much encouragement to develop deeper feelings. But it was also his downfall.

Ah well, three free meals. Good enough for me.

The Rule Book

2008-09-23T19:19:00.000-07:00

I realize it's been months since I've managed to post and I was planning to rectify that this very evening! But alas, other plans have since been made. Here's a stopgap for you that I still find amusing.

With apologies to a very witty man, who, unfortunately, must forgo his properly due acknowledgement because he shall be the subject of an upcoming posting... :)

My email to him:

My dear, I really expect you to have a full grasp of context surrounding whatever it is that I write. I mentioned getting my new bus pass because it implied a good 20 minute walk in the lovely downtown Seattle. It would have been wonderfully refreshing, but unfortunately, went unfulfilled today. Maybe tomorrow. You should make sure you consult the ENTIRE rulebook before your declare victory. An early declared victory that is later overturned incurs a penalty. While one can pull stars retroactively, there are no double-plays allowed. Indeed you have been incredibly sweet to me, but those stars, at whatever level they fell, were cashed in for date #1 and are therefore null and void--although the lingering memory may yet conjure a smile. For date #2, the stakes are higher...but the prize is only worth what you're willing to pay... ;)

His response to me:

My incredibly shrewd [me!],

You hit the nail on the head, I’m afraid. The hell of it is that there is no such thing as being able to consult the entire Rulebook for a guy. As ordained by God so long ago, women are the sacred keepers of the eternal Rulebook, while men only have a passing understanding of what is inside. Every so once in a while, some enterprising young chap manages to steal a glimpse into its secret wisdom, only to have women up and change the whole thing mid-read. It is a vicious circle to which there is no promising end, at least for us poor guys. I refer you to what I have called, in a mind-blowing display of sheer ego, “Michael’s Theorems & Postulates on ‘The Rulebook’ “.

To wit:

1) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook, is one that is known to Women, and unknown to Men.
2) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook, is created in whatever form Women wish to create it. There is no beginning, and there is no end.
3) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook which becomes known to Men, that is not by the whim of Women, thereby ceases to exist inside the Rulebook. It is therefore not just “no longer a Rule”, but in fact, never was a Rule to begin with.
4) Any given Rule inside the Rulebook which becomes known to Men, by nature of having been revealed by Women, was always there, even if it was just made up a moment ago. It is therefore a Rule, and always has been a Rule, even when it was, at one point, strongly believed to have not been a Rule.
5) In a given adjudication over the Rulebook, Women are always right. Men are always wrong. The reason for this is because that’s the Rule about Rules.
6) A given Rule may be brought into and out of existence at will. Sometimes, Rules apply. Other times, they don’t. This, too, is a Rule about Rules.

Now that you have enlightened me on a few of the Rules, I respond accordingly:

1) “An early declared victory that is later overturned incurs a penalty.”
Technically, this is true. However, though I have declared victory early, it has not yet been overturned. It is a suspended victory. Since the victory is a date with you, and an overturned victory is to not have a date with you, I imagine the penalty for overturning the victory is the actual act of the victory being overturned.
2) “While one can pull stars retroactively, there are no double-plays allowed.”
Well … damn. I didn’t know that. Hunh. So, here I am, stuck with 3.667 Stars (assuming that the ones I earned the other night are valid).

You say that the prize is worth only what I’m willing to pay, which is inherently problematic, since, in my own humble opinion, I happen to believe that this particular price tag is pretty damn high, and rightly so, considering who is attached to it. And here I am with only 3.667 Stars and $4.82 that I stole … uh, I mean … “borrowed” from the offerings plate last Sunday. Hmmm.

Well, then I suppose I’ll have to do what I do best: Lure you with promises of intrigue, adventure, and probably something to eat. I’m fairly good at that. So, on our last date, I told you that we’d be using two forms of transportation to get to where we wanted to be, and I delivered on that. Agree to go out with me again, and I promise you a third form of transportation. I’m thinking Saturday the 22nd. Your thoughts?

First Date--The Basics, Gentlemen

2008-03-31T18:25:00.000-07:00

First impressions are crucial. Job interviews, client calls, and first dates all require shiny shoes, ironed shirts, and basic etiquette. No, the feminist movement did not kill all expectations of courtesy and chivalry. I do regret and apologize that my gender royally screwed things up for a few generations (ladies, time to salvage your bras from the ashes and remember your manners, as well!), but the majority of single women today do appreciate and indeed look for a few basic things still considered polite and appropriate.

1. Open the car door. Just unlocking it doesn't count. Negative points the remote unlocking as though that makes up for it. Unlock the door. Open the door. Help us in if you have a huge vehicle. Bonus points for closing the door behind us. It makes us feel like we're nice and tucked into our carriage. (Note: Most gals I know, myself included, don't expect or wait for you to open the door for her to get out. If you chose to take the gallant extra step--certainly advised for formal occasions--give us a "hold on!" warning first.)

2. Open the restaurant door and allow her to go first. Always. Always. Always allow her to go first. When you come to a narrow spot, she goes first. When you're sliding into a row of chairs, step back gentlemen. It's ok to walk next to her or suggest, "How about here?" but don't just barge ahead. Try to remember that she is your focus this evening, hm?

3. Pull out the chair for her when she sits down--and make sure she sees you so she doesn't go a-smashing to the ground. Kiss that second date goodbye! If the waiter does it, more points to you for selecting a classy restaurant.

4. Pay for dinner. Really, don't even let her pull out her wallet. "Please," or "I've got it," or "No, no, allow me," all work fine. Don't even get into the "Do you want to pay," conversation--really, who actually wants to pay for their own dinner? If you come across a feminazi who insists and insists and is on the verge of crazy, fine. Let her pay for her own stinking meal. (Side note: while this may seem like an intriguing arrangement to cheaply spend time with a hot chick who's got convictions, do you really want to be stuck with that attitude 'till death do you part? think about it...). I always offer to pay because I feel it's polite to offer. I will always hold it against them if they accept, because I think it's rude to accept. Double standard? *grin* It costs a lot of money to keep us looking this good all for you. Think of it our investments for your visual pleasure and your dinners are our dividends.

5. ASK QUESTIONS! Don't just sit there and stare; don't expect her to carry the conversation; don't talk about yourself the entire time. Be interested in her. Ask open-ended questions. Ask follow-up questions. Here are some good starters:

Interesting, tell me more about that

Wow, how did that happen?

Really, what did you think when you heard that?

You must be brilliant, have you done something like that before?

Ask a about her family, her childhood, her favorites, her interests, her passions, her future. Get to know her! Don't do an interrogation session--certainly contribute your own stories as appropriate--but always turn it back to her. She'll find it charming, intriguing, and flattering.

6. Don't take yourself too seriously. Lighten up, especially if she's gorgeous and you're nervous. Nervous isn't attractive. Laugh, get her laughing, laugh together, and you'll relax, she'll think you're brilliant, and I'm pretty sure there's a chemical reaction in the brain that can only bode well for your future together.

7. If you have a "perfect first date" sequence that's worked magically in the past, don't let her know that you've got it down to a science. She doesn't want to be thinking about all the other girls you've tried to impress in the same setting. We all know that most guys need to rely on rote formulas (not you, of course!) to get things right and like to stick with the tried and true. But we'd still like to think that we're special enough that you planned this outing with just us in mind. Let us have our little fantasy, hm? :)

8. Tip generously and be kind to the service people. Trust me, we notice these things and they make a huge impression. Please and thank you are always appropriate when dealing with another human being in any vocation. Treat everyone with kindness and respect; it speaks to your character and integrity.

9. Pay attention to your clothing. I'm delighted that everyone feels free to be themselves, but be your best-looking self on a first date. Clean, neat clothes, hopefully in a style that doesn't scream 1987 or even 1997. You don't have to be drenched in the latest clothing fad, but don't look outdated, either. This is a great time to take a trusted friend shopping for a great outfit that fits well and makes you feel confident.

10. Don't try to kiss her on your first date. She may have just been going out with you to be polite, to give you a chance, or because she didn't know how to say no. If she can still stand you for a second date, your chances are much higher that she won't press charges for sexual harassment.

*Bonus points: Walk on the street side of the sidewalk. Walk behind her going up stairs. Walk ahead of her going down stairs.

**Goes without saying: Check directions, restaurant/event hours, don't be late, call if you're in the hospital.

Men, it's really not that hard. Good luck to you!

Non-Date Dates

2008-03-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

So salsa gentleman #2, referenced in a previous blog, did not cease efforts, either. (Salsa is a dangerous venue, ladies--take care whom you invite!!) We'll call him Tom. Tom was not overt in his efforts. After the salsa outing, he kept up casual contact for a few weeks. He was quite kind and sympathetic during a major life crisis. He sent flowers. A month or so later, he asked me to dinner and a play. I like dinner. I like the theatre. I like free. A match made in heaven, no? :)

Tom is in his late 30s, on the short side of average height, and intelligent--with a decent dash of wit. He's rather average-looking, nothing to grimace at, but also not likely to instigate a double-take any time soon. I certainly didn't expect a love match (then again, I never do!), but thought it might be an evening of lively conversation, fascinating insight, and philosophical explorations.

It was...for him. He talked the whole time. Really. Not quite incessantly, but it was ...voluminous. Quite. It wasn't uninteresting, but he made no effort to elicit my opinions, thoughts, and insights (of which I have *many*). Disappointing.

Then the play. Ha! It was actually ironically funny. The play relived my current crisis almost exactly--one that I certainly wasn't eager to relive. I could tell he was mortified that he didn't do his homework better (as well he should have been), but I didn't hold it against him. I also dropped what I thought was a subtle hint that I really wasn't romantically interested.

The chap is bright! Where most people seem to have some pathological need to be rejected multiple times before accepting the reality thrust in their faces, this gentle soul picked up on the slightest clue and almost completely backed off. Because I'm used to at least 2 or 3 good faith efforts, I naturally concluded that he must not have been romantically interested, just looking for a good chum with whom to enjoy the evening. Well no problem! I play that role with aplomb!

Fast-forward nearly a year. Tom and I have had intermittent communication, occasionally crossed paths at events, and generally remained friendly. I find myself in yet another dating bet (more on that topic in another posting). I ask for his assistance. He kindly obliges. While sharing a cup of coffee, he confesses that he was interested in me and had thought the feeling was mutual -- what went wrong, he wonders. How did he mess it up?

I look at him quite kindly. Poor dear. I try to explain that I wasn't romantically interested and am quite sorry if he was under that impression. He did nothing wrong, it just wasn't there to begin with ... but if he really wants some feedback...buddy, you talk to much! Really. And he took it well! We also had a fascinating conversation revealing that he knew next to nothing about the female psyche. He expected girls just to fall in love with him! Ha! say I. Fat chance unless you are quite unique in the holy match-making trinity: gorgeous, rich, and charming. You must woo and pursue, say I. You must trick them into liking you! Most girls have a natural reaction of "NO!" but they can be persuaded. A bit of effort, my friend, just a little, will reap wonderful results (except on me, I was sure to clarify!).

This experiment in honesty opened our relationship up to a whole new level! After I announced my lack of past, current, or potential interest, he starts asking me out to dinner. Nice dinners--the wine flows, the dessert comes. My favorite kind of dinners--where he pays. :)

When the second invite comes, I decided I can't in good faith accept without clarifying. "Tom," I write, "For the record, are you trying to date me? Because I'm the one who told you that you have to trick girls, so it's not fair to use a page out of my play-book on *me*. Dinner here, theatre there, mmmm-hmmm. It won't work, by the way, because I am devoid of emotional attachment of all sorts. Otherwise, I'd be delighted to accompany you on your field trip. Are you providing the chaperone?"

Clever gent responds, "What, in the steamy sense? Most certainly not. In the sense of trying to line up a date on a calendar with a time on a clock with a geographical location with excellent company, I most certainly am. In any other senses you might have in mind, you're on your own." Sounds safe, yes?

I agree. It was lovely. I informed him he needed a complete hair a wardrobe make-over. He did a much better job of asking question. I enjoy the evening. (But I'm still not interested, in case you're wondering.)

I've decided he is to be my pet project. He has many wonderful attributes, just needs a little refining. He's never had a long-term girlfriend to help him out. Most men don't come refined. It takes effort.

On our third fine dining excursion, I demonstrate the technique of asking questions to elicit deeply thoughtful responses--essentially, how you *really* get to know someone. He admitted that it was quite flattering to have someone so interested in your life -- and for the record, I'm still interested in him as a person, even if it doesn't translate into potential spousal material.

I just received another dinner invitation. Does it need additional clarification? I've thoroughly stated my position, but men always have a motivation. *sigh* perhaps. Oh but the wine is lovely!

Never, Never, Never, Never Give Up

2008-03-08T00:22:00.000-08:00

Don't you love that sentiment? When everything seems hopeless, when despair sets in, when really there's no end in sight, never, Never, NEVER give up, right? Love Winston! How often are these inspirational, stirring, beautiful words repeated in desperate situations?

However, there is a time to give up. When she gets married, when she moves out of the country, when she gets a restraining order--men, these are all good times to surrender your dreams and resign yourself to another face in the family photo.

A few weeks ago, I sat down with a man we'll call Ronald for my annual rejection speech. I met Ronald 2 years ago at a speciality interest group to which we both belonged; let's call it the Conservation Club. Ronald took an interest to me immediately, but only interacted within the safety of a friend group. Strength in numbers? I never had fewer than 3 of these lads surrounding me at one time. All of them were wonderful, intellectual, kind, and socially awkward.

I casually mentioned my interested in dancing to a few of these blokes one night and jokingly invited them to show up sometime. Ah, how I underestimated the powerful incentive of potential romance...in their minds. Two of these unlikely suspects quickly accepted and promised they'd be at Century Ballroom on Saturday (I demanded no promise; I was sorta hoping they'd forget actually). Did I mention that I dance salsa? Did I explain that these masochistic volunteers are white, reserved, and 30-something-years-old? Hmm, indeed!

Spinning ahead, they both show up and the three of us spend the evening together. We'll get to boy #2 later. Ronald hits on a favorite topic of mine and suggests we get together later to discuss it further. Had it not been for such a compelling area of personal interest, I never would have agreed. Ah, but he's a sly one, he is, and it was appetizers the week after.

Ronald is not attractive. Ronald has very few shared interests. Ronald has no college degree, pursues an impossible dream, and may still be living with his parents. After slowly watching each bite of the appetizers disappear, bit, by bit, by bit...by itty-bitty *bitty* bit, enduring a rather slow conversation, and really wishing I could think of a plausible reason to leave early, the check comes. Praise the Lord God Almighty!

We exit. He clears his throat nervously. Darn it all, here it comes. "So, I'm trying to think of a way to hang out with you again soon," he says. "Oh, thank you, but I really don't think it would be a good idea. You're a great person, but I'm just not interested in a relationship," say I. Straightforward, right? Plain English? Any room for doubt? Ok then.

I get home to find an email from him, again expressing interest. I *again* clearly lay out that no, dude, ain't gonna happen. See previous post, Exhibit B for exact wording. Two days later, which happens to be February 14th, he shows up. At my work. With a book. Of love letters. Granted, they were historical love letters, but come on!!! Most fortunately for all involved, I was home sick that day. I responded to his gift with a one sentence thank you email. Wouldn't you get the hint?

Ah, but this chap is a student of Winston. Must be. No other explanation. Over the ensuing year, he sends me an email anywhere from once a month to once a week, primarily containing his musings. He asks nothing. I usually respond nothing. Every5-6 letters, I shoot of a few sentence in response to not be entirely rude. I see him once or twice. He knows persistence.

I believe I may have showed up at another club meeting sometime in November. December rolls around and I start seeing him at salsa. Every week. Again, being well-bred and well-mannered, I graciously greet him and offer a dance (only because he's new and I so appreciate all the compassion and pity dances I got as a beginner). Again, he asks nothing, but this kid is a smart one. He figured out that the only way he was going to hang out with me was to show up where I was at. I'm at salsa every week. He came to salsa every week. See where this is going?

By about the 3rd week, I send the email posted yesterday as Exhibit B #2...just clarifying in no uncertain terms that I AM STILL UNINTERESTED, even though he hadn't asked. I've never been that presumptuous, straightforward, or bold before. Sorry, not interested. That's that.

He doesn't really respond to that particular note, but doesn't slow the communication--email and dancing. Ay-yi. In February, he asked if we could maybe hang out in a setting where Ronald didn't feel as awkward and clumsy as salsa (and yes, he did refer to himself in the 3rd person). I decided that maybe I need to give a final, in person, face-to-face, once and for all, unequivocal no. I reply, "Yeah, we probably should chat."

This time, I schedule it for the week after Valentine's day to try and push off any potential action/reaction/creativity on his part. He did better this year by only sending me a very sappy e-card with a personalized poem. *sigh* But it was an improvement. We meet up (after his salsa class, at which he is now a regular attender) for dinner at a local pub.

I start the conversation asking about his job and such. He answers...I ask a follow up question....he answers.....I let the silence go for a half a second before asking another follow up question....he answers....then looks at me expectantly for the next question. Geez! I gab on until the food comes. Then I launch into the "Ya know, just not going to work," bit. He replies, "I know you're not interested right now and I know I can't provide for you the way you'd want right now and I know there are some thing I need to work on right now, so I understand what you're saying." Don't think so, buddy. I try to explain that it's not a question of right now, but that we are unsuited for one another until death do us part.

It was painful, but I believe by the end of the evening we had a meeting of the minds and ended amicably, albeit with me paying for my own darn dinner and drink. Sigh of relief. Clarification. FREEDOM!

Email the next day. And the next. I bolted town for a bit on a work trip. He researched the city for me. I got back to another email. And the day after. Weblink the day after that. Text message the next. Two emails after that. The more I reject him, the more impossible I paint the options, the more he tries!

Ronald, be kind to yourself! Somewhere out there is a lady who will adore all your attention, appreciate it, and maybe, just maybe, reciprocate it. Find her. You're a good guy. You deserve her.

And for the rest of you men out there, know when it's time to give up and move on. Persistence is a lovely thing. Sometimes you get the girl. If this is your game plan, you have much better luck on girls with low self-esteem, just FYI. But at some point, you need to face reality. She's out of your league. Maybe it's your hygiene? Perhaps you bore her to tears. Whatever the reason, true l-o-v-e between you was just not meant to be. And it will never happen.

Trust me, you wouldn't be happy with her anyway.

Rejection letter: Mail Merge and Thanks for your Application

2008-03-07T01:29:00.000-08:00

I used to be very loquacious in my rejections. I hate to hurt feelings. I like to encourage people.

Exhibit A from 2005: Awkward conversation at lunch. I say no thanks. He doesn't get it. Follows up with an email, just making sure. My response:

"Thanks for taking the time to reiterate your thoughts from Tuesday's conversation. I appreciate your willingness to be forthright, waylaying the awkward uncertainty of assumptions. I generally try to avoid these types of conversations--as you may have picked up from my numerous attempts to change the topic... :0) But as I saw it coming a ways back, and now that you've been kind enough to brooch it directly, charge we onward.

"I'm very flattered that you would take an interest in getting to know me at a deeper level. Such compliments coming from a respected friend are worth much. You have taken quite a risk to put forth your intentions--something I don't see done often--and therefore I will try to give you a direct response. At this point in my life, I am simply not interested in a relationship with any inkling of romantic interest or commitment. As I expressed over lunch, I'm content, really delighted, being single, though not isolated--dependent only on God. I love being around groups of other people, exploring friendships, discovering divine gifting imparted to others, and simply enjoying the community of believers. Even when that perspective changes, though, I'm not sure that I would be the person for you. I value your friendship and really see that as the fulfillment of our relationship. Welcome to the summer of fun! :0)"

Obviously too long. He did get the hint, but I think it took a few weeks longer.

Exhibit B: 2006 Agreed to appetizers. Chatted for the evening. He nervously asks to get together again. I say no thanks. Get home to an email asking the same thing (How many times to they have to get rejected???) I write:

"As far as getting together again, please indulge me in bringing up the always-awkward topic of clarification. I enjoy intelligent banter and philosophical discussions thoroughly, but buffered by friendship, and nothing more. I am always eager to meet new people and determine who they are and why, and my emotional unavailability is often discovered late. I hate to be presumptuous in this thread of conversation, and please forgive me if I am, it's just that I have too often been accused of cruelty, when it's really forgetfulness--that not everyone is necessarily on the same page with social engagements--and perhaps naivety. So, there's that, and chalk one up for awkward candidness. ;)"

This paragraph was followed two days later by a Valentine's gift. I need to re-evaluate effective communication techniques.

Rejection attempt #2. Same guy. 2007.

"Yes, I will be at Century on Saturday. I hate to be presumptuous, but I just want to clear up something. If your feelings towards me are the same as they were a year ago, you should know that mine haven't changed either. You are a great guy, but I'm not interested in anything beyond that. You certainly are welcome to come dancing on Saturday, but I just don't want your expectations to be misled. Again, please excuse the presumption, but life is generally easier when communication is straightforward, regardless of how awkward the subject may be... :)"

Still showed up and showers me with emails.

Exhibit C. Century Ballroom. 2 weeks ago. Alex asks for my phone number. "No thanks." But he just moved to the area and needs friends. "Try church." He goes to church but they're old. "Come to YP." But can he have my number. *grumble, grumble* Fine. Here's my phone number "But I'm not going to date you!"

Conclusion. No beating around the bush. Be straightforward. It still won't work, but they can't say you didn't warn them.

Seattle Dating Scene

2008-03-05T18:40:00.000-08:00

Seattle is well known for many things: gorgeous scenery, outdoor activities, environmental conservation, hi-tech industries, diverse neighborhoods, and active inhabitants. There's also something called "The Seattle Freeze." Perhaps you've heard of it.

Rumor has it that making friends in Seattle is near impossible for the newly arrived. Seattleites are friendly, helpful, and kind, but don't expect any invitations into their social circle. I don't know that I entirely agree with this theory, but I will admit it has some merits--and carries over to the dating scene. Now, as a reasonable-looking female, I don't experience the dating freeze directly, but it expresses itself in extremely roundabout invitations.

Men here don't ask for dates directly. I more often hear things like, "We should hang out," or "Hey, why don't you meet up with me and my friends," and "Cool, I'm going there too, maybe we can catch up!" This leaves the awkward question of whether or not "this" is actually a date. Now, we are all rational people here. Men aren't looking for their next female best friend. They're talking to you because you're pretty and they're interested. Bottom line. Why not just come out and say, "Hey, can I take you on a date?" No confusion, no uncertainty, he asks, he opens doors, he pays. Lovely. Rare.

My friend and I came up with a theory about our oblique communication style in the Pacific Northwest. Some attribute it to passive-aggressive behavior. Others to the geek culture permeating our fair city. We call it pnwasion (pen-WAY-szon). It's short for Pacific Northwest Persuasion and it stems from our dominant Nordic and Asian cultural influences. We are not confrontational. We like to suggest, not demand. We are not aggressive; we like to leave an out clause. In short, we give you the big picture and if you can figure out what we really want, we will get along famously!

Case in point: My friend (we'll call her Jenny) and I had been invited to the family home of an Assyrian friend. He had told us for weeks about his mother's incredible food, the aromatic dishes, the unending feast. We salivated at the prospect--we are both huge fans of eating excellent food! Our destination was a three-hour drive from Seattle. We split a pastry for breakfast and arrived around 1:00, appropriately famished in anticipation. We were greeted with Turkish coffee. Then some wine. Then some more wine. 2:00. 3:00. More wine? Oh, no, really, I can't have another drop, I haven't eaten all day! 4:00. You sure no more wine? Really can't, no food in the stomach, you know, really. Really. 5:00. We're going to a winery! (Thinking that maybe they had bread there along with the wine tasting, we go along...no bread, just more wine!) Finally, around 7:30, they fry up some hamburgers for dinner. After serving the dad first, he comments, "You should give some to the girls, they're starving!" So they knew were were starving!!! And yet, we couldn't bring ourselves to simply ask, "Hey, buddy, can we have some food?" No, no, it was, "Oh please, no, I can't have another *drop* of wine, I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY!!" They were supposed to decipher their expected offer of food from our pnwasive statement. Any Northwesterner would have known. Ah, but they are Assyrian. And so we starved.

While I am indeed guilty of pnwasive speech patterns and behavior, I would like to suggest that we all attempt a communication shift. The "lets hang out" method, while sounding casual and noncommittal, is actually the worst trap. She can't say, "No, I'm not interested," because you never said you were interested, did you? You just asked to hang out. If she says, "No, I'd rather not," then you're left wondering what about your personality is so horrendous that she would even want to spend an hour or two with you. I mean, it's not like you *said* you were interested in her. See where this leads?

So men, try the direct route: Would you like to go on a date with me? Practice in front of a mirror. Try your inflections on a few trusted friends. And ladies, please let's not be offended at the directness. It's polite. It gives you an out. It's great! In fact, how about a trial year--just one year--where you say "yes" to any man who asks you out directly (automatic out clause for safety and sanity reasons). We can all do our part to ramp up the dating scene in Seattle. Men ask directly, women accept promptly, got it? (This, of course, only applies to the first date. After that, boys, it's all up to you.)

Let the games begin!

2008-03-04T18:30:00.000-08:00

I enjoy dating. I appreciate getting to know people, understanding who they are and why. I like free meals. I am a serial dater.

I generally don't have a problem getting dates. I usually say yes. I never commit.

I live in Seattle. I am 27 years old. I have a professional career, am financially stable, and stay well informed. I am socially aware, culturally involved, and politically opinionated. I enjoy life.

For some reason, I have had more than my share of fascinating dating experiences. With the exception of the truly creepy, the street bums, and aged delusionals, I say yes to one date with almost anyone who asks. I'm never interested, but feel everyone deserves a shot at changing my mind. Their success would surprise no one more than me!

So here are my adventures: some past, most present, and perhaps some side commentary to keep me amused. Welcome to my life.