So I lied. eHarmony sent me a ridiculously good deal to continue my membership for three months. I figured, why not? I’m remaining cautiously optimistic at the idea of perhaps meeting a decent guy and at the same time, I’m enthused with the prospect of more blog-worthy encounters. It’s not that the past 15+ years of dating hasn’t left me with a wealth of material, but I like to keep it fresh.
Unfortunately, the past two weeks have been stagnant. I made it to the email round with one guy who seemed ok. I did find it odd that almost everything he’s said has revolved around how much he likes to watch TV. I have no problem with television, but when a 33-year-old man says he doesn’t like to “miss my shows,” something is wrong. That’s something my 70-something aunt in Michigan would say.
As usual, I tried to overlook this. Maybe he’s just looking for a girl to go out with? His next email to me essentially said he doesn’t like to leave the house . . . as in ever. Going out after work interrupts his rigorous television watching schedule. He did seem to be OK with going out on weekends, mostly because he has a DVR to catch what he might be missing.
In addition to his hermit tendencies, he doesn’t approve of social drinking unless it’s for networking purposes.
I have a feeling this isn’t going to work out.
Thirty-three is far too young to be a shut-in. If you are going to be a shut-in, you should at least be a drinking one. People understand a drunk hermit. No one understands a thirty-something in San Diego who spends every night of the week watching Stargate reruns. And watching it dead sober.
Lesson learned: Hurray for this guy and his honesty. And honestly, as much as I like “my shows,” I also have an unscripted life I want to keep living. And it includes happy hour.
The first guy never called me back. I guess I wasn’t for him, which is fine. End of story.
The second guy was great. We laughed, we shared a fairly expensive bottle of wine, and we reminisced about the 80′s; in short, he was a great date. There was just one problem: I wasn’t at all attracted to him. I mean, not at all.
I tried, I really did. I wanted so much to even have a spark for him that I could cultivate. There was nothing wrong with him. It just wasn’t there. I think he even wanted to kiss me at the end of the date and I instinctively ducked out of the way. I felt so horribly shallow that I spent the entire weekend being verbally abusive toward myself and drinking way too much wine.
On Monday I shared my lack of physical attraction with my colleague. “Am I a horrible person?”
“Yes,” she said, “but not for that.” And then she gave me perhaps the single greatest piece of dating advice that I had ever heard. “This is about you, you know. He’s got to work for you just as much as you have to work for him.”
And here I thought I was just dead inside.
She was right though. When I was younger, I was in a relationship with a guy for close to two years (we even discussed marriage) and though he was very attractive, I was not attracted to him. But I was determined to make it work because I wanted a boyfriend, not because I wanted what was right for me (or him for that matter). It was destructive for both of us.
Of course now this ex is happily married with two children. Typical. (see entry: Good Luck Amanda)
Lesson learned: Chemistry certainly isn’t everything in a relationship, but it has to be something.