I was speaking to a woman I dated very briefly years ago and with whom I am now good friends. To my relief she said, “I don’t think you’ve had any ‘That one got away’ girls” —  the girl who was perfect for me but I was too stupid, too young, too immature (different from being ‘too young’, although there is some overlap) and just blew it.

The closest I had was Mia, the 25 year old Italian girlfriend I had when I was 35.

But I didn’t blow it with Mia in any big or obvious way (if I did at all) — I met her about 2 – 3 months before she had to go back to Italy (and took her to Hawaii during that time), invited her back months later to Philly and NYC for my brother’s wedding (where she saw her first Broadway show) where she stayed for about 3 weeks and then came back for 2 weeks a few months later…and then, basically, never came back…. she just didn’t want to be far from her parents and her studies and her new career….

Aside from that, there hasn’t been anything that was going really well and that person was perfect and I just suddenly burned the house down, well, just because.

If anything, I try and make things work even when the ship is going down (Snark is Relationship Cancer girl, the woman I moved out to LA for, Ellen The Event Planner).

I just keep thinking about the Snarky Redhead and wondering — WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

Everything was going great — we had 5 dates, decided to stop dating others, had Body Heat chemistry, was well matched when it came to interests and intellect and then she just pulled a grenade on the whole thing (got mouthy, got mean, refused to sleep in my bed one night, admitted to sabotaging when confronted)…

And it seems there’s been a lot of sabotaging going on with L.A. Match girls — girls who play obvious ‘Ooops-I-missed-your-phone-call’ games (return phone calls at 9:20 am on a workday, call at lunch), refuse to give phone numbers just when the e-mails are getting good, give me their numbers and then never call me back (or worse, weeks later, then send me an e-mail encouraging me to call again and I do and then don’t CALL BACK AGAIN!!!!!! OMG!!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!)….

Sure, there’s the cost (downside) of dating — leads gone cold, people who vanish (shit, I vanish on women online after a couple of unimpressive e-mails or when I’ve found someone to date / focus on), but the people who take it the extra step into Dating Kabuki is what really gets my goat….

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:

On my birthday, she bought me brunch and came back to my place and we were kissing and lightly “petting.” Now, when I get intimate, I get very serious, passionate, focused — I am totally in my body and not my head (where I am usually) — I go from being Ben Stiller-y to Bill Hurt in Body Heat in seconds.

And she kept making these comments that felt like she was punching my boner in the face (I would lose it).

Trying to engage her (she didn’t seem to be into making out in general), I said: “Do I still look good above you?” (She told me that the week before — a very rare sexual, loving thing she said — maybe the only thing in 5 dates)

Many ways to answer this — “Uh-huh” “Better” “Of course” “Always” “Sure” “Yep”

Hers: “Duh, I told you that last week!” — Bam! There goes my boner again….out cold on the canvas….ten, nine, eight…

After my therapy on Monday (where I talked about my concerns about her and my therapist wasn’t feeling her / us as couple at all), I get a text from her saying she is going to go out of town, but would like to see me before she goes.

I text back — That was a really nice text to get – I’m busy Tues, but the rest are free.

She texts back: Why do you always seem so surprised when I say or do something nice? I certainly have my flaws but I am a very nice person.

Ugh. This is exhausting. And it’s only date 5. I’m really close to throwing in the towel….

…and….that night it ended.

She called later and I told her I sent a text that says we shouldn’t communicate via text anymore (which she didn’t receive actually) and then we were chatting — it’s a little awkward but okay and was telling a story and then imitated some guy in the story with a funny voice and she interrupts and says (sarcastically): “That voice really turns me on.”

I snapped.

And snapped at her.

“I’m sorry that voice doesn’t turn you on — that’s how I talk, how I express myself sometimes. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to go out with me anymore.”

BAM! CUT AND RUN DAVE does it again! Well, to be fair, I was trying hard (probably too hard) to make this thing work with this girl — she liked me and was nice in many ways (picked up a check, bought me a B-Day lunch), but we were out of sync on two main core issues — communication and physically (that will be a future blog post)

Postscript: I got a text from her about a day or two later (ANOTHER TEXT — Jesus! I’d rather get an e-mail from her on Match.com) that said: I re-read your text and I realized that I did read something into it that wasn’t there. I’m sorry. If you still want to spend time together let me know. If not, I understand and wish you the best.

At around the 4th month of dating, Ellen moved out of the free, tiny guesthouse she was living in (in exchange for cooking for the main house’s crazy owner 5 nights a week) Santa Monica (about 10-15 minutes from me) to an expensive ($1900) loft in downtown L.A.

I had a sneaky feeling that I wouldn’t make it 30 days after she moved downtown…

The $1900 in rent was $1900 more than she had been paying and really, a lot of rent for L.A. In my building, in the neighborhood just south of Brentwood (yes, OJ’s Brentwood), a 2 Bed/2 Bath would MAX out at $1600 or so. My building rented 1 Beds for $1200 at the time.

That is to say, she had to work EVEN MORE to make that $1900 nut. I think parking was another $200 a month too.

A quick rundown of those 25 days or so:

• I always came downtown to stay over (maybe 3 nights a week, costing me $10 in parking each overnight visit)
• we never had sex in the new place.
• she would ignore me and work in the other room ALL NIGHT while I stayed in the bedroom and watched TV and wrestled with her dog. Like, I went to bed without her.
• Discovered she had ERASED all the photos of us from our Hearst Castle trip and didn’t save any back ups.
• The ONLY sign we weren’t on the way to a breakup, she made vague references about trying to get me a parking pass. This actually confused me.

THE LAST NIGHT:

She was very unaccommodating in little ways. Like insisting she keep the huge windows of the old bank building she lived in open, despite central air.

So we go to bed one night and shortly after I fell asleep, a mosquito — which I HATE HATE HATE — flew into my ear, which totally freaks me out and I ended up waking up and flailing at my head and going “Aaaaaaaaah!” loud. Right into her ear.

This was what Malcolm Gladwell calls “The Tipping Point.”

The moment where the ice cracked under the weight of a mosquito.

She woke up and was SOOOOOOOOOOO ANGRY.

“What the fuck? You just yelled in my ear!”

“I’m sorry — there was a mosquito in my ear — I didn’t do it on purpose.” To add insult to injury I might, admittedly, have giggled at her strong reaction. It was pure nerves.

Her eyes burned with rage. That was it. She was DONE. I felt it to my bones. I bet the people sleeping in the apartments all around felt that tremor of fury.

There was no love left.

We went back to bed, but something had shifted. I could feel it, like a boulder that was now under the covers. A few minutes later, I got up and put my jeans on in the dark and found my shoes. I was going to leave, sneak out.

She awoke. “What are you doing?”

“What I am I doing here — what purpose do I serve?” The Truth Bomb. I dropped the Truth Bomb.

She said nothing. There was a moment and I got back into bed. (I should have left for many reasons but ultimately didn’t want to drive 25 minutes / 14 miles back to my house at 1:15 am.)

That was the last time I saw her.

In the morning, she was gone. And she called and broke up with me a couple of days later. “I adore you but…” — she didn’t — “this isn’t working for me.”

She said she would drop my stuff off at my apartment and the two times / days she gave me she never showed up or called to cancel. Then one day I went to my car and she had left a cardboard box in front of my car, unsecured, with my medications and shit in it that all could have been stolen.

I found her on Match not long after.

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!)

She emailed you.

Today, 8 hours ago

I like to change things up, depending on my mood and what I have to do each day. If I’m going to a band rehearsal I will probably rock the Joan Jett look, if I am teaching (which most days I am…) I dress like a teacher – trying not to look at all attractive so that the little boys don’t have crushes on me. I would probably say that I lean toward the goofy Star Wars pic of me though. That is me at heart. The rest is just part of the game.

So where are you from on the East Coast??

-Francine

1 HOURS LATER:

Today, 7 hours ago

I have to be honest, I don’t know why I am on this website. I have no interest in dating anyone. Well… at least my conscious mind is telling me that. Silly I know. You are totally right about all of those girl bass players. They rock! I just found out the other day that there is this woman bass player (Carol Kaye) that recorded soooo much stuff. She was the studio bass player for most of the Beach Boys albums. Crazy. – Francine

1 HOUR AFTER THAT:

She emailed you.

Today, 6 hours ago

I’m not really sure… maybe b/c I was burned so bad in my last relationship that I have no desire to be with anyone or perhaps it’s because I am convinced that I am going to be traveling soon and constantly have this unsettled feeling, or maybe I just haven’t met the right person. Who knows. Sorry!! Good luck with your search. You seem like an amazing guy, I just don’t want to lead you on.

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…

Hi, my name is Dave.

But it could be Simon or Bob.  Basically, I’m the guy you don’t want to go on a date with.

Which is fine.  I’m okay with that – really.  Look, I’ve been asking out women for 20+ years. Any guy who has been dating more than a few years can handle rejection, or having you change your mind.  You’re not going to shatter us — at least not me, a man in his forties.

The problem is, often YOU are the one who isn’t okay with that. So instead of leveling with me and letting us go our separate ways, you try keep up the illusion that you do want to go on a date with me … while trying various stratagems to get out of it.

That’s gotta stop.  Because instead of sparing our feelings, you’re making men angry.  And turning them into angry daters.

Here’s what I’m talking about:

The 7 Most Popular Runaround Excuses / Games:

1. ‘Whoops, I-Keep-Missing-Your-Calls’

The old phone-tag ploy – I call you to set up the date, and it goes straight to voice mail.  Then you call me back at a time when I’ll probably be unavailable, and you leave me a very vague message with no mention of when you’ll be free.

This goes on until I get the hint and I go away. Like a bad magician trying to keep up a sad illusion, you hope I won’t notice the purposeful dodge. Also known as ‘The Slow Fade.’

2. “Things Are Just So Crazy Right Now”

This is a very popular phrase and meant to imply that you would me dating me if you weren’t so damn overextended.

Then I see that you’re still active on Match.com every 24 hours. Or I happen to run into you on a date with a guy a week after you’ve told me this (that happened).

3. “Call-me-in ____ weeks”

Similar to “Things Are So Crazy Right Now” – you tell me that we should talk after you get back from The Kentucky Derby with your family, Ireland, some business trip, etc.  Usually two weeks or more.

Historically, if it’s more than a week, week and a half: you’re never gonna call, and you won’t end up returning my calls.

4. The Clumsy Lie

You cancel a date with an excuse that stretches plausibility.  Here are actual examples:  “I have to go in to the office tonight.”  (It was a Sunday.)  “My girlfriend is having a meltdown.”  “My professor from college came to town unexpectedly and I should take him out to dinner the one night he’s here. (same woman from example #2)”

4-a: “I can’t make it — my kid is teething / graduating from middle school / coming down with something.”

Yes, stuff happens with kids and kids scheduling.  But if you are using your kid as a reason not to go on a date, please stop. Not cool.

5. The “Scorching-The-Earth” Cancellation

You cancel in a rude and egregious way — like within an hour of the date with a weak excuse or no excuse at all.  (“Um, I’m going to have to cancel because … uh, I’ll just talk to you later.”) — screwing up my plans for the evening and/or sticking me with an extra ticket I have to eat the cost of.

You figure I’ll never ask for a reschedule or ask you out ever again.  And you’re right.  But this is better than telling me nicely, at the right time, that you’re just not interested?  No.

6. The Wrong Number

I ask you for your phone number.  You write it down for me or email it to me.

Yes, this still happens: OMG, it’s a wrong number! A few months ago, I got this treatment from a 40-year-old yoga / spiritual mom who encouraged me in previous e-mails and then wrote. “I am always flattered when an attractive, smart guy like you takes the risk to put himself out there – thank you for that — here’s my number...”

7. The Second-Date Shuffle™

We’ve been out once and had a good time!  I ask you again, and you agree!  But then you cancel, usually a day before, using some non-confrontational method – text, Facebook, e-mail.  Then we go back and forth a few times, setting up a time and then when it gets close, OMG, you change it AGAIN. Or you only discuss vague, potential times — nothing concrete.  (“The middle of next week might work – let’s touch base then.”)

It’s only after the shuffling has ended – fruitlessly – that I realize you weren’t interested … and that you’ve wasted my time, energy and good will. I thought you liked me, but that was just a very drawn out lie.

7-a: The First-Date Shuffle™

Things are never going get off the ground in the first place, but it takes a week or more for me to figure this out.

****

Recognize any of these?  Can you see how you’re avoiding hurt feelings, but increasing them?  If so, then what should you do instead?

It’s simple.  Tell me you changed your mind. Or tell me you don’t see us as a couple. Or just don’t return my follow-up call.  All of those are better – more thoughtful, believe it or not – than having you string me along until I give up … and understand that you didn’t want to go out with me in the first place.

And what if you do want to go on a date with me, but actually did have to cancel at the last minute, or your kid has got an infection, or things really are crazy right now?  That’s simple, too.  Just say, “I’m so sorry.”  Maybe say, “I owe you a drink for this.”  And offer a specific alternative, like “How about the same plan, but on Thursday?”  Or “Could we do something Saturday afternoon instead?” (And then, whatever you do, DON’T CANCEL the reschedule!!!!!!).

Hi David,

I wanted to say how nice it was meeting you yesterday and thank you for both the company and the coffee, but I also want to be upfront and let you know that I’m not getting the sense that we are a romantic match. If my perception is on target, your feeling was/is the same. I wish you the best! – Karen