This is part two to this. (I don’t think anyone cared about part 1, but it gets better in this part).

http://datingdaredevil.com/uncategorized/vertigo-pt-1

Okay, once at The Disney Hall, we are shown to our seats, which are in the first row of the balcony. A balcony with a very, very short wall. As soon as the show started, it felt like I was suspended in mid-air. I got dizzy.

“Do you have vertigo?”

“Yeah, apparently. I didn’t know it until this minute,” I said.

Other than that, she didn’t really seem to care I was getting ill. So for the next 45 minutes, I sat with my head craned away from the action below, my jaw clenched tight and my hands gripping the arms of my seat. I was totally blowing my cool, but we were just buddies, so no big deal.

At the intermission, she says she wants to stay in her seat. I was in a small panic and said (getting up), “I’m going to sit in the lobby. For the rest of the show. I don’t feel well.”

So for the next 45 – 50 minutes, I sat in the lobby.

She came out, found me standing right there in the lobby and I drove her home. It wasn’t that big of a deal. She didn’t seem upset in the car ride back and seemed to have rolled with my vertigo / illness.

BUT what I didn’t realize at the time is that girl was a PRICKLY.

Because when I ran into her at a mutual friend’s events, she acted like, well, I had assaulted her. So got real weird and wouldn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and would literally avoid me. This went on for months.

I later realized that she was AGHAST! That I left her alone for 45 minutes at an event we went to as buddies! AGHAST! How dare I get sick! How dare I be human! Girls like this act like you’ve ruined their night if things don’t go the way THEY IMAGINED IT. (BTW, Prickly Girls always want KIDS RIGHT NOW and I can’t really see it — they way they act and expect others to act, is, well, the complete opposite is what happens with kids.)

Anyway, I know this because two buddies of mine filmed a show she was producing and at some point, she was saying to them she couldn’t find a date / boyfriend and then they said “We got the perfect guy — Jewish, East Coast, owns his own business, funny” “Who?” And then they mentioned my name and she went…

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MYYYYYYYY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And then proceeded to tell her victim “version” of what happened — I got weird (not sick) and ran out midway through the performance and didn’t tell her where I was going and she didn’t know how she was going to get home” (Whhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttt?)

My buddies actually questioned her version of it, saying “That doesn’t sound like Dave…”

Anyway, I heard she is preparing to have IVF and a baby by herself (which another Prickly I know did).

In June of 2011, I had a date with a 29 year old petite, cute nerdy girl around the corner from her house. She was FUNNY — now, I don’t say that lightly. As a former stand up (and occasional depressed person), it’s a huge feat to make me laugh. And this girl did it often. We had a 1 hour and 45 minute coffee date that just flew by.

We went out a few days later and saw a comedy show also around the corner from her house and then kissed her car. Unfort., the mood was ruined by two assholes who kept driving past us with their brights on again and again.

I called for a third date….and nothing.

I was a bit surprised, but she seemed a little guarded, a little snarky, probably not ready for any kind of intimacy.

But she was funny. And I needed new friends.

So about a month or two later — I don’t remember, I wrote her a postcard (I was in her neighborhood and remembered the building where I dropped her off and jotted down the address one day) and said, “I know you don’t want a third date but you are the funniest person I’ve ever gone out with and seem to have a lot of quirky stuff in common, so if you ever want to see a movie to go to a weird art or comedy show, let me know. YOUR MAILMAN READ THIS” I wrote in big letters at the bottom.

That was probably late summer of 2011.

Then the other day I saw her on Match.com. I clicked on her profile and read it and then a day later I got this:

I go out on a lot of first dates and I only ask out a few for a 2nd. I’m sure a lot of women have thought, “Oh, I thought we had a good time — I don’t get it….”

1. You Date-And-Switched-Me: You were deceiving with your pictures, mainly about a body part you wanted to downplay, most often a giant booty. Or bad teeth. I recognize the signs now — hiding behind friends in group photos, holding a coat in front of your frame, weird angles (from high above). And the multiple pictures of you smiling the Dustin Hoffman smile in close ups and ONE open mouthed smile, but a block away. Or you showed up with a pixie cut after your pics all have long hair.

2. You were really attractive — maybe even out of my league — but I didn’t see us as a couple. Mainly, because it felt at the end of the hour, we had exhausted the conversation. At minute 65 we would just be staring at each other. And day 65. Just not enough in common — enough to get us through a handful of e-mails, a 15 minute phone call and a 30 – 60 minute face to face, but then it just fell apart (for me). Our relationship had a 60-80 minute shelf-life.

3. You tapped out – You were so disappointed with me that you just went catatonic, stared at the table, muscled through the 30 – 60 minutes, answered in short answers, refused to verbally participate. It was like being on a date with Robert DeNiro in AWAKENINGS. You didn’t want me to ask you again anyway.

4. You openly didn’t give a shit – The woman who dressed for the gym (see previous post), the woman who met me while walking her dog; you dressed so causally it looked like you were going to mow the lawn — I could have been your future husband and you treated it as if I was just an errand you had to run on a Saturday.

5. You were nice and cute, but I didn’t see us kissing or getting passionate. When I tried to think about that, it was like trying to tune into a radio station that was out of range and all I got was static.

6. You smelled funny. I’m going to write a separate post just about this soon — You didn’t smell BAD, our chemistries didn’t mix (or you were wearing Patchouli oil or some Hippie shit). It hit me as soon as we hugged — you smelled OFF. Not bad, but off. Musky. I don’t know — I had a fun time with you and I loved your look, but my DNA was screaming “Nooooooooooooooo! Not this one!”

7. We kissed and….NOTHING. This is related to number 6 — I kissed you — maybe for a long while — and I felt NOTHING. No spark, no tingles, no erection. This is frustrating because I really liked you — and your look — but the chemistry isn’t there. It was like kissing a piece of paper.

8. You didn’t look as good as your pictures. You didn’t deceive me on purpose, but the pictures weren’t a good representation and you are probably unaware that you don’t look like the pictures you posted from your Mexico trip 3 years ago. Perhaps you’ve had some hardships (divorce, death of a parent, lost your house) and it shows, but in your mind you still think you look like you did only two years ago. Or there were things I didn’t notice / couldn’t have noticed — bad skin, an unusual amount of peach fuzz, looked older, grey-er, heavier.

9. You didn’t shut up. You might have had Aspergers (see previous post).

10. Bad breath – I have an earlier post about this — but this just assaults most of my senses. I remember I went out with a stunning, curvy Persian girl (who actually went into shut down mode — see #3) who’s breath was so bad, I had to keep myself from gagging and all the while imagined acid was being misted on the right side of my face as we talked.

10. A combo of any of the above.

I was matched with a girl named “Susie” on e-harm. (I like calling it “e-harm” instead of “e-harmony”). I think we made it through the “5 Questions of Death” and got to talk on the phone.

On the phone, she sounded like a 11 year old. You know, that tiny, mildly squeaky voice. And answers questions in short stacco bursts. And when I told a joke, it took a second for her to process it and then laugh, like when you tell a joke to a kid. You know, you can watch their brains figuring out the twist and then they go “Oh, ha ha ha.”

I didn’t know if we should get together, but she was super, super cute. 5 feet and a curvy little body. So I made plans to meet at a breakfast place near her house and left it on her VM. And then she called me back VERY EXCITED about the place I choose. Unusually excited.

CUT TO: The date. She’s 15 minutes late. And since was early, I had been sitting there for 20 minutes.

She shows up and she’s cute. And dressed like a kid. She had big white buttons on her jeans. Like she stole her pants from a Raggedy Ann doll. In fact, she’s the type of girl that would buy clothes with really big buttons. Or wear Blow Pop/Hello Kitty/SuperGirl T-shirts UN-ironically. Or overalls. It was hard to imagine her in a dress. And she had tiny little kid hands. What was not tiny was her bosom. She had a very adult bra-size. It was tough to process these two “ouvres” in my head.

It turns out she was excited about the place because she thought they had closed and they had choc. chip pancakes which she ordered and was very, very excited about. Like a kid would be. Like because they got choc. chip pancakes all was right in the world at that moment. It was kinda charming and made me uneasy at the same time. I felt like a Big Brother taking a Little Sister out for pancakes.

Conversation was tough as it sometimes is with an 11 year old. At the 35 minute mark, I said, “Well, my meter was going to run up” (which it was because she 15 mins late) and she suddenly looked sad.

“I can refill it…but while I’m gone you gotta come up with some questions to ask me, okay?” Somehow I didn’t sound like a dick when I said this.

I re-fill my meter and come back and sit down.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

For a second, I thought she was kidding. She wasn’t.

“I guess meerkats. I liked that show on Animal Planet — Meerkat Manor. Maybe 2nd, sloths. They are kinda popular now. After that Ellen show freakout with that blond actress.”

“Mine’s an elephant. And when I watch shows about elephants. I have to hold this elephant doll I have.”

Oh shit.

(TO BE CONT.)

I call a woman this AM — get the VM — she calls me back while I’m leaving a message…but she’s with a friend, on her bike and our few minute conversation was interrupted every 30 seconds by her talking to her friend, other bikers, random people on the street…I felt like I was joining her in an Old Navy commercial.

“So, what are you doing today?”

“well, I have to work on this — ”

“Make a left now!”

This is a real pet peeve of mine. I’m not your friend. You don’t know me. I’m try to make a good impression and get to know you and it’s hard when you’re on your cell and got ADD and I’m just another distraction.

But after about 6 minutes, she says she’ll call me back later.

***

She calls at 7 and it’s better. And she’s tells me about her friend’s lousy boyfriend. I give a brilliant assessment of the situation. She’s impressed. And laughs.

She asks me where I’m from. I say Philly. And then I lived in New York.

And she says “Manhattan?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we had a house in Long Island, then a house in Queens, then a house upstate, then a house in CT, then a house in________, and then a condo in Greenwich Village….”

“Wow. That’s a lot of houses.”

No laugh.

(We’re losing pressure, Captain.)

Then she corrects me on the difference between The High School for Performing Arts and Art And Music in NYC.

(Ship’s going down, Captain.)

She then volunteers that she was married when she moved to LA. And now divorced. And gave me short synopsis on her marriage and her ex’s professional failures (was a top chef for the studios and now cooks in a hospital) — she still sounded disappointed in his choices. “I saw potential in him he didn’t see himself.”

(I don’t like the sound and tone of this, Captain.)

“What about you?”

“What about me what?”

Silence.

“Oh, was I married? No, nope…”

More silence. More rope to hang me with. This is starting to feel like a bad job interview.

I very, very briefly talk about moving her for a woman and that didn’t work out.

“Then what?”

I get what’s happening — she’s trying to conduct a RELATIONSHIP AUTOPSY. This is not going to be pretty — either way — if I go into great detail or I avoid it. Either way I’m dead.

“Then I was with a girl from Italy and she had to move back for school and her family.”

Silence. Then:

HER: “Well, thanks for sharing that. I have to make dinner and have a lot of things to prep, so I got to go.”

ME: “Oh! Okay, then.

HER: See you later.

ME: Okay.

Time of death: 17 minutes and 20 seconds.

She left in the morning and then texted me later: “I’ll call you later in the day.”

I texted back: “That’s okay, I think we are on the same page.”

The immediate response: “What page is that?”

My text: “The page where I think we broke up over the course of 5 hours last night.”

Then the phone rang. It was her.

Then the most amazing thing happened — I VOCALIZED MY FEELINGS. And not in a victim-y, blame-y way either — it came from a very strong, confident, calm place.

I remember saying things like: “I don’t know what’s going on — I don’t understand what your needs are — I can’t even figure out what kind of guy you need — you won’t respect the beta who takes your shit and an alpha won’t put up with it and I feel right in the middle….I don’t deserve the mistreatment you heaped on me last night — it’s clear you are pulling away, may I ask why?….”

And then another amazing thing happened: She admitted trying to sabotage the relationship (!!!!)

So after 20 minutes of me taking the lead on this and her agreeing and listening, I said, “Why don’t you take a few days and figure out what you need / want from me.”

****

EIGHT DAYS later she calls. I pick up because I don’t recognize / remember the number — when she identified herself, I was a bit shocked. “Oh, hi!”

Then she NEVER MENTIONS ANYTHING WE DISCUSSED. Just talks about the weather and the traffic and shit. Finally after 15 minutes, I had to make a conference call, I said, “Well, I gotta go” and we hung up.

It made me sooooooooooo mad — it reminded me of every relationship before this and growing up in my parents house — SHOVE THE UGLY STUFF under the rug and pretend it’s not there.

That was about 2 – 3 weeks ago.

Then I got a text yesterday: “I had a bizzare dream about you — are you alright?”

Whatever.

It’s been a while since I dated her (4 years) and even thought about her….

Her name was (let’s say) “Renee.” I met her at a Feminar (Female + Seminar =  Feminar).

I had been on a “Men’s Panel” during the seminar, where they brought in 4 guys, put us on stage and then we answered honestly from cards the women had pre-written questions on. (I have since been banned from doing this panel anymore — it may have been because I dated this woman — I never found out).

I KILLED at this thing. I was hilarious, but poignant. A woman even stood up and with tears in her eyes apologized to me for dismissing guys her own height when dating.

I happened to stay at the hotel to eat an early dinner after the Feminar team rushed the men on the panel out like we were The Beatles after a press conference. An hour later, I bumped into Renee on the way to the bathroom. She was taller than me, maybe 5’9, kinda cute in a quirky, average girl way. She took my card and was nervous like I was Davy Jones and she Marcia Brady.

She e-mailed me about a week later and then disappeared but then gave me her number after that. She lived in the Bay Area. The next time she came down, we would hang out.

We did — we went to eat, where she looked at me googly-eyed all night and ended up back at my place…and ended up staying for 5 days.

Which wasn’t a bad thing – it was fun and different and like a vacation from own life. And it was nice having someone to sleep in bed with, take naps with, make dinner with, etc. An Instant Girlfriend. Add water and mix. We had fun and laughed. A lot. And she was very sexual free. Experimental. Daring. Non-judgemental.

THE BLOOM COMES OFF THE ROSE:

Classic situation of getting too sexually involved with someone before you really know them (I don’t think anyone would date/have sex if we waited around for every character flaw to arise — I mean, think about it)…

What I didn’t know was she was SOCIALLY A LIABILITY. Blurted things out in public. Embarrassed me. Was socially unconcious. It was like having a child — she would do or say something I would have never seen coming. (“How did you get your head in the banister in the 2 seconds my head was turned?”)

Worse yet, it was like BEING WITH MY MOM (who does the same thing).

Some examples of the stuff that annoyed the shit out of me. (now keep in mind when they came up, it kinda of annoyed me but not enough to say something, but when a million of these things piled up and then one last one hit the pile — I WAS DONE).

• Taking her to lecture that was being recorded, she stood up at the break and (without warning) announced to the whole room, “Anyone wanna get a pizza?” The lecturer had to quickly speak up and say, ‘No, no — we can’t do that.’)
• Once grabbed me from behind in Whole Foods after I said something she didn’t like and wouldn’t let me go (this was a technique she used with her nursery school toddlers when she was working). And refused to let me go despite repeated, whispered, angry warnings.
• Once grabbed my nipple really, really hard while having sex — my animal / automatic instinct was to punch her — I actually had my fist raised.
• Once put on my jeans when I wasn’t looking and stretched them all out of shape (she was taller and curvier than me, so getting them on must have been a real feat — it never occurred to her, “Oh, these are way too small, I better not keep FORCING them on”)
• Once said, “How come you never tell me I’m beautiful” This was like week 3. A needy line (and the needy way she delivered it) made her LESS beautiful.
• I could never get her on the phone when I called / needed her. Always went to VM. (“Oh, I forgot I had my phone off…”)
• When we did talk on the phone, she went on and on and on about her horrible childhood. Endless stories of this.
• Was always LATE. Like, missing PLANES late. Which often fucked up my schedule (and she wasn’t working at the time) — there’s was a whole incident when she missed her plane in SF and had me pick her up at LAX and RUSH her to a hair appt in West Hollywood — freaking out in my car the entire ride — she was 2 hours late for (and then I had wait around in WH for 1.5 hours in the middle of the working day).
• Tended to stay one day too many when she visited (and didn’t ask me if was okay to stay a FIFTH day), she would just miss her plane.

There were other things too — I HATED, HATED her other LA friend and her boyfriend, but the above are the “bad” highlights.

I broke up with over the phone on the sixth week when she proposed coming down for another visit. There was all these little things I could have spoke up about (“hey, don’t touch my stuff” after the jeans thing), but how many times do you have to tell someone to correct their behavior (to your liking) when it’s really that YOU JUST DON’T LIKE THAT OTHER PERSON.

I’ve been putting this off…too soon I guess….

So what happened on Day 21?

We had tickets for a show I had bought 2 weeks earlier.

Now, to refresh you, only a few days before she made the crack about me “being a girl FOR THE LAST 41 YEARS.” When she had only knew me for 15 or 16 days.

I had to say something, course correct, speak up like I done, well, not in any previous relationship that sloooooowwwwwwwllly went off the rails.

But I had calmed down about it and was going to bring it up either the night of the show or shortly thereafter at a good time.

So the night of the show, she shows up at my apartment in wedges 4 inches higher than me (my face came up to her collarbone), hair pulled tightly back and up, with a lot of pale makeup and very red lips. There was something very cold about her outfit/appearance.

She apologizes on without prompting about the ’41 years’ comment (“wow, that was mean”), but within minutes HIT ME HARD WITH A BOOK she didn’t like the title of (It was something about “How to Control Your Alpha Bitch” — now I realize how that could have been misunderstood — it was a guide FOR alpha women and I had ordered it for research for my script MONTHS EARLIER).

On the way to the show, she just BREAKS MY BALLS in the car (I don’t remember what she said, I just remember mock strangling her a few times) and generally defiant, bitchy and mouthy.

At the show, I remember saying to her, “Hey, I’ve already dated you — I don’t need to date The Mean Girl 2.0.”

This is us at the show (front row — see ball of red hair in upper right):

After the show we drive back to my apartment (she had already announced she was not sleeping over — this is the 2nd time — with no explanation — “Hey you staying over?” “No.” And scene.)

We sit on the couch, kiss a bit, watch David Blaine on TV and then HER STOMACH HURTS and she wants to lie down on the couch. “Do you want to come to bed?” “No, it hurts. I can’t move.”

I get a blanket, give her a pillow and go into my bedroom (only 15 FEET AWAY!!!!!).

In the morning, she wakes me up. “Hey, I’m going.” No kiss, no nothing. Half sleeping, I take her hand and put it on my cheek. She leaves.

(to be continued…Part 3: The Phone Call!)

http://screen.yahoo.com/confirmation-28488596.html

Unfortunately, I don’t know how to make this play in my own blog, but trust me — it’s amazing….

Why? Because’s it’s happened to me and it’s one of my pet peeves….

Just the other night I was closing an OK phone call with an interested woman and I said, “Well, we should get coffee or something sometime…” (Meaning: Let’s get together)

And she snaps: “I don’t like coffee. It’s like a job interview. I’d rather do something active.”

“Like bowling?”

“No, ha, I hate bowling. I mean, like a walk down the Promenade.”

I think she heard the screeeeeeeeccccccch sound in my head of me pulling onto the side of the road cause she quickly added, “But whatever you want to do is fine.”

I was on the fence anyway and this just tipped me over. I don’t like when the other person has their own little first date rules they try and impose. It feels controlling. And not fun.

Why can’t coffee feel like when you just hang out with a friend?

Plus, I like to wear my nice shoes on a date and they ain’t meant for long walks.

After that last disaster date, I am trusting my gut. Thanks, Carrie!

a 1st date you’ve had THREE TIMES.

There’s a difference. A big one.

I remember this first occurring when I was in New York, close to my last year (prob. 1999 or early 2000), I had coffee with this redhead who worked for a famous director — THREE TIMES. Coffee. We never even graduated to dinner. Or even lunch. We literally met for coffee three times. And each time, it was basically the same date — small talk, a few laughs, no physical progression. Not even a kiss. Or a touch on the arm.

It was the Groundhog Day of Dates. Same date — same length, same level of intimacy — just a different coffee shop and day.

After the 3rd, I had to e-mail and and ask her if we were dating, not dating, friends, not friends or what. I wasn’t mad, I just needed clarity. I just didn’t want to have a FOURTH coffee date. She wrote back she was on the fence and that’s why we went out so much, but ultimately wasn’t feeling it. (We later hung out as buddies when I visited NYC a year later, but since lost touch)

I’ve had about four of these “Faux 3rd Dates” in the last year, but only now can I really distinguish them from a “Real 3rd date.”

• The dates are oddly far apart. I went out with ‘Lena’ last year — we had our 1st date in Dec, our 2nd in Jan, our 3rd in Feb. To contrast that, the Snarky Redhead I just went out with — we had 5 dates in 21 days. Every 4 days or so. There’s freakin’ MOMENTUM.
• They don’t progress physically. You don’t kiss until the 2nd or 3rd date. And it’s not a really good kiss — it’s basically a peck.
• The dates are all the same — you don’t feel like you are getting to know the other person any better — you don’t feel them opening up, you don’t feel any closer with them, you don’t like them any more — it just feels like an exact replica of Date One.
• You just feel you are on the fence about them and they are on the fence about you. You ask them on a 2nd or 3rd date and if they refused, you wouldn’t care. There’s a “what the hell” quality about it. And you are curious to see if they’d say yes to another date — almost like you were placing a half-assed bet with yourself.