Sometimes people have Aspergers. Sometimes I end up on dates with them.

Yesterday I talked on the phone with a really cute, nerdy girl who had I been e-mailing and IM’ing on match — once we started talking, the red flags began to go up — she began to take over the convo (“Where do you live? I live in Silver Lake!”) get really excited about small details (“There’s all these handwritten signs around here and a guy with no teeth who sells corn from a trash can he wheels around on a cart and also…”)

Uh-oh. I think she asked me one question in a 25 minute conversation — where I lived.

And when I got off the phone it started to make sense more — especially her job, academic researcher. And she sounded like a hyper 12 year old, not a 35 year old woman.

Anyway, that wasn’t the worst one.

In early 2010, I went out with a woman who was a well established film director in her native county (actually kind of famous, like had magazine articles written about her) — we had talked before meeting and she did talk a lot and wasn’t picking up my vocal cues but I just chalked it up to her being nervous and the Skype we were using instead of the phone.

We met at a cafe in Venice — and she was very striking — and tall — BUT TALKED NON-STOP FOR AN HOUR AND FIVE MINUTES. And maybe asked me one thing (that had a short answer). The last 15 minutes were her telling me EVERY DETAIL about the new screenplay she was writing. So LA. Sooooo Asspergers. It felt like my face was on a stairmaster — just the barrage of little words.

I drove her to her car where I noticed she seemed to want to kiss me and that she had what seemed to be a small cold sore growing on her lip. I hugged her, she got out and I drove home and took a nap.

The sad part is, MONTHS LATER (like 4 or 5), she e-mailed me a long-ish letter (a couple of paragraphs) and asked me if I wanted to be FRIENDS. This just crushed me. This girl is so alone, so lonely, she reaches out to a guy who didn’t call her for 2nd date months earlier?

I didn’t know if I should reach out with a polite, no thanks (where would I begin?). I was dating someone at the time and ran it past her and she said forget it.

So I did. I still feel a little bad.

My 2nd date philosophy is a simple one: If they were attractive enough, nice enough, interesting enough (or interested in me), I’d ask them on a 2nd date. Maybe I wasn’t / I’m in LOVE, but thought/think that’s there’s a little something there, I initiate another get-together.

I like to give women a chance I think a lot of women don’t give me.

If I was bored or sensed they were bored or not interested or they weren’t cute enough, I wouldn’t / I don’t.

I have a feeling that women (ok, a generalization) don’t operate like this — if they didn’t feel butterflies or didn’t see you as their future husband during the coffee date or don’t see you ravaging them in bed, they don’t bother. Too many buses coming down the pike to bother with any one particular bus.

I did have a date about 2.5 years ago that went so well, I actually walked away thinking “hey, I think that girl will be my next girlfriend” and was absolutely dumbfounded when she didn’t go out with me again (she pulled the “2nd date shuffle” on me). About a year ago and wrote her and kindly asked her if she remembered me and that I was having a hard time getting 2nd dates if there was something I did that turned her off.

Her reply:

Honestly, I don’t remember that well.  I know you didn’t say or do anything wrong – I would remember that.  I think I was exhausted by dating at that point and a little bit burned out on the process.  I was going on about three first dates a week and expecting some miracle or lightning bolt to happen on one of them.  I rarely went on any 2nd dates – because I didn’t hear back from people or I was too tired to respond to someone – and eventually just cancelled my membership out of exhaustion.

Three dates a week? That’s even too much for me and I date pretty frequently.

In acting class I learned about the “moment before” — before you enter a scene, your character has had a previous moment, a life before that scene, which directly effects how your character is going to act in the present moment. Was he just yelled at by his boss? Did he just get smiled at by a pretty girl? (Often when you only get “sides” in an audition — just the few lines you are playing — you have to make up a previous moment for the character.)

I mention this because I think the “moment before” a date is pretty critical, especially with women, who are unusually sensitive to moods and their surroundings. That’s why I don’t like to meet women immediately after they’ve worked late at the law office and still are in their pants suit and in ‘attorney head.’ There is something to be said about the days (30′s? 40′s? 50′s? 1880′s?) when women spent a few hours “preparing” for a date, bathing, relaxing, grooming and transitioned into “date mode” and stepping into their femininity.

What happened to me last week was when I got to the vegan hipster bistro to meet my date Francesca, she was in the midst of being hustled.

I got there 6 or 7 minutes late (I called ahead while in terrible traffic) and I saw what looked like her at a table outside and she was sitting with another woman. There were drinks on the table, so I thought maybe that’s not her — these ladies have been here awhile. So I call and then hear HER phone ring at that table. She says to woman she’s sitting with (her back facing me), “You gotta go,” with an unusual amount of anxiety in her voice.

I approach, stand in front of the table and they are arguing.

Woman (mid 40′s, black, dreds): “I told you how much before I sat down.”

My Date: “No, you said it was free.”

Woman: “No, I did not.”

(Now, I don’t understand what is happening — I thought maybe she had a business meeting before me — she was a freelancer –and my head isn’t really clear since I just spent an hour in traffic trying to get to Hollywood in what would have normally taken 35 min – 45 minutes max)

Then, flustered, my date says, “Okay, fine — I’ll pay you, it doesn’t matter,” reaches in her purse, thrusts the Hustler a $20 and the Hustler hustles out of there so fast, there was practically a puff of smoke where she had been standing.

Then my date tells me what happened — the woman approached and offered a FREE palm reading.

Now, I’m from back East (lived in NYC, went to high school in the inner city) — nothing’s EVER free — there’s always a catch. When people try and hustle me here in L.A. I say, “Dude, I’m from NYC — we INVENTED this.” One guy actually said, “Sorry, man” like he was violating my patent.

So this lady’s hustle is she says it’s free, but then says she didn’t say that, then out of social awkwardness and social anxiety and white guilt, the mark gives up the money that never would have if they knew it was $20 at the start.

So, understandably, my date — who is BREATHTAKING — pretty in her pictures, but just stunning in real life — is a little shaken.

I tell her a story how I got hustled in L.A. in a faux almost car accident to make her feel better. She comes off the ceiling a bit.

After an hour of nice chatting and laughs, she announces, “Look, I’m just getting a friend vibe from you — I just wanted to be honest, because your profile says you appreciate that, I mean, I’d go out with you again to get to know you better, but romantically I’m kinda on the fence so I’m not making any promises — I just want you to know if we go out again.”

(Now this was a woman who e-mailed ME first a note that said in the subject line “D — You look and sound absolutely fabulous” a couple weeks before)

Me (recovering from the shock, trying to keep a smile on my face): “Wow — that’s the first time in twenty years anyone’s told me that even before that first dated ended. So, just so I’m clear — we can go out again, as friends, but with small portion of romantic potential on the side?”

She laughed and nodded.

I picked up the check and got a “awwwwwwwww”-our-chests-are-not-touching-pat-on-the-back hug.

I bet if I knew what was going on and told the Hustler to get the fuck away before I called the cops, she not only would have not dumped me at minute 55, she probably would have made out with me, having stepped into my masculine and saved her. I bet something inside her was blaming me for being late, ’cause if I was on time, she wouldn’t have gotten hustled. She didn’t feel SAFE on some primitive level.

Had I just gotten there a few moments before…

This is sooooooo weird.

I go to the mailbox about a year ago and inside, is a huge manila envelope addressed to me — in my handwriting. I have no memory of sending a SASE like this to anyone.

I rip it open and there’s a hardback edition of Budd Schulberg’s What Makes Sammy Run. I don’t remember buying this and mailing it to myself.

Opening up the inside flap, I discover this:

And I realize what this is — THREE AND 1/2 YEARS BEFORE (Jan – March ’07) I was courting this 23 year old girl I met at the Friars Club (aka “The Jeans Girl”) and her favorite book was this one.

Making one last attempt to impress her, I bought a copy of ‘Sammy’, found the author’s address online — he was in his early 90′s at the time — maybe 93 — and wrote to him asking if he could inscribe it to Claire and mentioned this could really flip it for me (it was also a very Sammy Glick thing to do too) if he signed it for me and I included a SASE.

Claire eventually expressed that she was not interested (more than once) and then moved away. We still keep in touch and we’ll have a cup of coffee when she visits L.A.

Then, three and a half years later, the book arrives. Not only three and half years later — OVER A YEAR AFTER SCHULBERG DIED.

I guess he signed it and put it down somewhere with my SASE folded in the book and his daughter or widow or someone took it to the Westhampton P.O. and mailed it (with delivery confirmation) — no note attached or anything.

I like dogs. I do. In fact, I miss my ex’s dog more than I miss her and wish I could have him 2 or 3 times a month.

That being said, bringing your dog to our date is kind of like bringing an unexpected (human) guest. A very unpredictable, skittish, distracting, attention-pulling guest.

I recently went on a date where she unexpectedly brought her dog — apparently she was trying to kill three birds with one stone — walking her dog / stopping for coffee and meeting me.

When I see her approach, she’s carrying a small plastic bag of poop which she needs to find a trash can for and then dashed inside the coffee shop to wash her hands while I hold the leash. Not a great visual / first encounter. (“Hi — nice to meet you — sorry I can’t shake your hand or hug you, I’m carrying shit in a bag.”)

The dog was huge — think Great Dane — and had two casts on its front legs from some mishap. Which made EVERY SINGLE PERSON who walked past to inquire what had happened (“Did your dog owe money to the mob?”), which interrupted our conversation probably every two minutes. So the strangers asked what happened, waited for answer, then offered some one-on-one consolation to the dog (“I’m so sorry, Pumpkin — I know, your legs will get better” in a baby-talk voice.)

Also, her dog WENT COMPLETELY APESHIT when any dog or skateboarder went past — she had to hold onto him with all her strength, scolding him loudly, while on his way dismember a small poodle and almost overturn our outside table.

Look, even on dates where I’m not attracted to the person, I try and make them feel special and it’s very hard to feel special when the other person’s distracted by their current, furry love.

Hi “Craig8257″ (You’re so much better than that Craig model 8256–vast improvement.)

You come with excellent references and I’ve always dug those smarty writer types. I have my own handy testimonial. Alas I only asked for one, but I’m sure I can get others:

“Celeste is sexy, sensitive, intelligent, completely honest, and did I mention sexy? Her razor sharp wit and humour can make any exchange, even conflicts, surprising and entertaining, and she has the laugh of a 12 year old little girl.

She is exceptionally thoughtful, and very empathic to others, which is what makes her a wonderful friend as well as lover.

She is terrific to travel with, adventurous, easygoing, and flexible. Her love of mystery and magic, make Celeste a very romantic, passionate, and sensual mate.

Her mate should be handsome, intelligent, articulate, have a great sense of humour, and not look out of place in a tuxedo. He should be fiercely loyal, supportive, romantic, and bring a sense of whimsy and fun to the relationship.”

Bill Carr, 9/26/08

In the immortal words of John Lennon, ‘I hope I passed the audition.’

Best wishes,

Celeste

**********************

Dear Celeste –

Wow, gee, thanks for such a wonderful, clever and funny letter…that’s probably the best online note/response I’ve ever gotten….

But, um….ah….er…..we actually went out already, after meeting on here, in about 2004, to a show at the Knitting Factory (The UnCabaret), where you were nicer/spent more time talking to a guy who was seated on the other side of you (you guys talked about the origins of your name) and when you drove me back to my car afterwards, you said bluntly, “Look, you’re cute but I’m not attracted to you” and then I stumbled out of your car, feeling like I had been punched in the face.

So…yeah…but, again, lovely note….david

At the end of March, I had a date with a woman who had e-mailed me on Match.com a few weeks earlier saying ‘Aren’t you the laundromat marketing guy?’

Turns out we had spoken maybe 2 years ago — I vaguely remember not going out with her because she sounded snotty — something about how she owned properties in LA and, I, alas, was just a ‘renter’.

Anyway, we speak again, she sounded nicer and we meet for coffee.

I’m sitting outside and I see her approach — and her hair is pulled back super tight into a horrible little Gene Simmons bun on the top of her head. Why do women do this on first dates? Hair pulled back doesn’t even look good on actresses going to the Oscars!

She insists (doesn’t ask) that we sit inside, so I follow her in.

We sit and she starts talking about how much she loves the TV show ‘True Blood’. I mention I worked on the campaign. We talk very briefly about the ads. Then she talks about her website and that something in it / on it wasn’t “integrated”.

So, pretending to be interested, I ask, “What wasn’t integrated — the design?”

And she literally snaps: “NO — WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT DESIGN AND ADVERTISING ANYMORE. WE ARE TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING ELSE.“

Her tone was so sharp, it felt like needles on my skin. It took all my strength not to stand up and say “You know, I don’t like how you just spoke to me — I’m going to go.”

I should have, but I try and make a good impression, maintain some dignity even though the other person might be acting badly.

I never want to give the woman something that she can go back to her friends and and go “You wouldn’t believe what this crazy guy did on our date.” Especially since she knows my last name. Especially since LA is basically a small town.

What I did though was what a million girls have done to me — I just ‘checked out’ — just got complacent and humored her for the next 45 min. or so.