A New “Something”: The Scientist

Dating a Scientist

 

Many people have been quick to point out to me, I have a history of dating…er…um…well…hot and dumb?  Though it should be noted, I was recently telling my mother that it’s not so much that I’m some vain asshole picking hotness over smartness, these are the guys that are choosing me.  And if I’m going to date a dumb guy, he might as well be hot, no?  Now I’m not saying I’m some kind of smarty pants, but there is something to be said for the fact that I have 2 BAs and am working on my MA.  Needless to say, I clearly value higher education and intelligence.

But I digress, THIS is about the Scientist.  So here goes…

He messaged me on OkCupid.  He asked intelligent questions (and never mentioned my tits once), our conversations included paragraphs (it was actually fun getting to know him), he seemed really interesting (he’s traveled all over the world), and it seemed like we would probably have a lot in common.  Oh, and he’s getting his PhD in Neuroscience.  No biggie.

In all honesty, my only hesitation was his height – 5’9.  Now, don’t get me wrong, height isn’t everything, and it’s not even necessarily a downside but the thing of it is that when the guy isn’t particularly tall – I feel bigger.  I’m already fairly tall at 5’7 and add to that I’m a BBW or Plus size or whatever you want to call it chubby bunny, and then if the guy isn’t tall sometimes I feel a bit like, like, well like, I take on a bit of a masculine energy.  But I digress, my issues aside, he seemed like a cool dude (and smart as fuck, have I mentioned that yet, that he’s super smart, well more on this later!)

Detour.  It was the week of my 32nd birthday.  I had just started to get back into dating (read: put up dating profiles on POF and OKCupid) and I had 3 potential first dates coming up.  The first was with a really pushy French guy (from France, big surprise) who, even though I pretty clearly stated that I was looking to hang out in an area of Montreal that I was familiar with, was trying to convince me to trek my way on an adventure to a hookah joint (that was conveniently only a block from his house, though I had already clearly said no, I don’t want to have a drink on your terrace, I’m not comfortable with that for a first date).  Needless to say, boys, pushiness is not a turn on and I eventually decided it wasn’t worth the stress and texted to cancel (well in advance though, so don’t you worry).  The second guy was Skinny Jeans, and we all know how that turned out.  And then the third brings us back to this story, The Scientist.

Unfortunately, with classes, TAing, my first date with Skinny Jeans on my bday, and my own birthday party, I had booked up the whole week except for Saturday.  Even more unfortunately, the Scientist was running the Montreal Marathon that day which would put him out of commission for another two (as I imagine running that kind of distance basically cripples you for a day or so after).  And then, as luck would have it, that brings us back to the days I have class again and the point of this lengthy story is to tell you that from the time he actually first asked me out, it would be another week and a half before we got to meet.

One of the problems with making a date that far in advance is it is both too much and not enough time all at once.  It’s too much time to spend waiting (because you’d be surprised how much you can convince yourself you don’t want to go on a first date after your first date back in over a year is a total flop).  And yet, it’s entirely too much time because normally when you’ve started talking to someone, you…ya know…talk to them, but when you’re waiting for a first date, there is a big part of you (and it’s an advisable part, I admit) that doesn’t want to talk to the other person.  You are, after all, saving up your most interesting banter and stories for the first date, when you’ll impress them with your flawless conversation.  So, during those 10 or so days it was almost radio silence, on both sides, while we waited for our big date.

By which time, of course, I was feeling a bit more like this, than excited to meet a new fella:

 

 

But obviously I didn’t bail because I’m not a total jackass and when thursday rolled around, I got all gussied up and ready for our date.  I was running a tad behind, as per usual, so was planning to catch a cab so I wouldn’t be late, when the Scientist called and, apologizing profusely, asked if we could please push our date by 45 minutes so that he could attend an art show of a friend that he’d forgotten he’d promised to attend.

No sweat, I told him, let’s push it an hour so that you’re not rushed.  Plus, now I could save cab fare and take the bus, hoorays all around.  When I showed up at the cafe, the place was super cute but also really dead.  I must’ve been looking around confused because the hostess asked if I was meeting someone–yep–a guy?–yep–around the corner.  And there he was.  We hugged, I sat down, and so it began…

Dating a 23 year old…Not Just For 23 Year Olds Anymore

Amenable

 

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]t’s Friday night.  I’m ahead of schedule.  And then traffic comes to a stand still.  Because…of course.

I text stuck in traffic, might be a few minutes late, sorry.  He responds no problem…I’m still looking for the place.

At 6:45 I arrive.  I ask, but no worries he tells me I haven’t been here long.  I notice though, he’s been there long enough to get himself  a coffee.  I get one for myself and return to the table.  And that’s how it began.  That was the moment where I found myself, on a Friday night, on a first date, with a 23 year old.

 

We had been talking for weeks.  He seemed really excited.  I couldn’t figure out why it had taken him so long to finally make it happen.  He claimed it was because of school…which I get…trust me.  But nonetheless, I have the patience of a 3 year old Mamma doesn’t like to wait plus who can sustain interest for a stranger that long?!?!.

The texting had been cute, and we did seem to have a lot in common, plus with leaving in a few weeks I figured fuck it, I’m game!  Not to mention the fact that he was so so so young and well, maybe I’d find out what this whole cougar thing was really all about.

 

Prior to meeting he had asked what I wanted to do on our first meeting, saying that he wanted to make sure I was happy.   I suggested shooting pool (my fall back/true love activity) but asked what he wanted to do.

His response…I want to spend the day with you, I’m not so great at pool.  Maybe coffee, dinner, bowling and movie?  Up to you though we can pool as well or instead if you wish.

I suggested we stick with coffee given that we could totally end up detesting each other but said that I wouldn’t make any plans for later in the evening in case we wanted to keep the date going.

And then came the sign that would’ve told me everything, excepting the fact that it went undetected.

I could tell he was excited for our date plus he literally said I’m really looking forward to it…Hope you are too.  And then he added I’m quite amenable in case you haven’t noticed.

Now, in my defense…given the context…you can understand my mistake…I just wasn’t thinking…it didn’t seem very important.  Oh.  Fuck.  Who am I kidding?!?!  I study English Literature and I’m a writer, I have no defense.  I wasn’t paying attention and I misunderstood the word.

See, at the time he said it: amenable …I was thinking that he was excited to see me, that he was friendly, and easy going…amiable…amicable…any of those friendship related terms.  But that’s not at all what he meant.  Dude knew his exact meaning and his word choice was no mistake, he meant to say exactly what he said, he was amenable to me.  Amenable.  Sigh.  Worst.

 

a·me·na·ble/əˈmēnəbəl/

Adjective:
  1. (of a person) Open and responsive to suggestion; easily persuaded or controlled.
  2. (of a thing) Capable of being acted upon in a particular way; susceptible.
Synonyms: obedient – docile – tractable – liable – answerable

 

Worst.  Because see the thing of the thing is…I’m not into that in the slightest.  If anything I want the exact opposite.  Roles switched.  That being said, like I keep saying, over and over again…I’m out of here in a few weeks, so why not be open to new things?  Who knows, maybe I’d find out that after all this time the only thing I love more than being dominated, is to be the one doing the dominating.  Okay, sure, it felt doubtful but I went with it anyway.

 

So there we were, sitting in a starbucks, sipping our coffees and talking.  Good conversation.  Cute conversation.  Sharing funny stories.  Sharing information about ourselves.  Making jokes.  Admittedly I was closing more of the punchlines and he was doing more of the setups but it worked.  There was witty repartee and giggles.

He told me about his family, about Egypt, about school.  I told him about writing (round-about-ly), grad school and moving.  He was definitely cute in a nerdy kind of way.  His profile said he was 6’0, but…and I don’t know if I’m growing, he was slouching, it was the heel in my boots making that huge of a difference, or the fact that he was pencil thin…but he really didn’t feel that much taller than me (standing at 5’7…last time I checked).  Don’t get me wrong, he was definitely taller…just not by the lot that I was expecting.  Nonetheless, the date was going well.  I think.

However, and I feel this is a point I need to stress to the boys the most, but I could be wrong.  SMILE PEOPLE.  Because when you’re sitting directly across from someone at a coffee shop, that’s about the ONLY way she’ll really know you’re feeling her.  At the time, I was more than unsure.  Sure he thought my chatter was great but did he think I was cute? adorable? sexy? hot? attractive?

Best way to figure it out???  Signal that the coffee portion of the date is over and see if he wanted to go to see a movie at the theatre down the road…

So that’s exactly what I did…

I Suggested…if he wanted to…that we could see a movie.

 

Did he say yes?  Did we carry on with the date and go see a movie?  Or he make a lame excuse in order to call it a night and end the date at that???

 

To Be Continued…Here

 

Vancouver Dating Blog:  Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One “Something” at a Time

Online Dating and First Date Jitters

Dating
[dropcap]At 3pm yesterday[/dropcap] I felt sick to my stomach.  Nerves.  Dread.  Trepidation.  4 hours till my meet and greet with Trucker Joe.  And I was a ball of anxiety and worry.  I blame Tedski (fix link).  I blame the date that scarred me for all the other boys.  The worst date ever.

Detour.

Within two days of being back on Plenty of Fish, Trucker Joe messaged me.  He thought I was funny.  He looked manly.  Into dirt biking and camping.  Beaches and fun.  He had a lot to say.  I didn’t have to hand-hold the conversation in our messages.  It just flowed.  He was enthusiastic.  He seemed happy.  He had nice teeth.  He was tall.  He had 2 photos up.  1 – 3/4 face visible shot.  1 – dirtbikes.

Detour from the Detour.

Boys are not good at taking photos.  Barbie looked worse.  Garbage Man looked much better.  Tedski looked much worse.  Intelligence Officer looked much much better.  Twitter Guy looked better than his worst photos and worse than his best photo.  So with that being said.  There are 3 categories of attraction when it comes to online dating and me.  The “not-at-alls” who I delete, The “maybes” who seem likely there could be attraction especially pending some more photos and/or in person.  Maybes qualify for dates assuming their personalities don’t suck.  And finally the “babes” who still have the potential to disappoint (read: Barbie).

Back on Track.

I liked Trucker Joe’s personality.  But that being said.  These days, with 5 dates under my belt, I know how misleading photos and messages can be and thus prefer to meet sooner rather than later.  Which can mean that less things get asked.  Less is known.  Which is great if the date is good because than you’re left with lots to talk about.  Horrible if the date is bad and you’re like fuck! how did I even agree to this?  But I digress.  The conversation led to plans flawlessly.  He asked if I was a Starbucks or Timmy Ho’s girl?  I said, Starbucks but as a student I’m often a foldgers hazelnut instant at home coffee girl.  He said, He’d love to buy me a starbucks, as he’s not on a student budget 😉.  Phone numbers and text messages exchanged.  Date set.  Wednesday night.  Last night.

Detour.

The thing about the date with Tedski (fix link) was.  It left a horrible taste in my mouth.   One that had me generalizing.  Scared.  Scarred.  About older guys.  About guys who have just led completely different lives than me.  About guys who have very different levels of education than I do.  About guys in certain types of employment (see “I Thought I Was a Job Snob” coming soon).

Back on Track.

So there I was at 3pm yesterday.  Nerves. Dread. Trepidation.  But not about myself.  Because in the words of TurnJacson I already know what I’m bringing to the table.  So I wasn’t worried about me.  But FUCK was I worried about him.

Would he look like his photos?
What would he wear?  Would he be in Dad jeans or something equally awful and old and awful?
Would his sense of humor be like Tedski’s?
Would he be a total loser?
Would he be inappropriate or weird?
Would he embarrass me? (remember this is a small town/city/area)

But a phonecall from TheHell.  A pep talk.  And I went.  Drove to Starbucks.  Parked.  (turns out I drove past him and he recognized me right away which I think speaks to having good valid photos on my profile :P).  Got out of the car and started walking in.  I wore the magic dress.  I know most people said jeans and a cute shirt but shit son, it’s summer and way too hot for long jeans (and that’s all I have right now with not wanting to buy new clothes that soon wouldn’t fit).  So it was super sunny.   Had my shades on.  And as I was walking across the parking lot.  And I just kind of sensed someone was watching me.

To Be Continued….

*Dating Vancouver a Better Place, One Something at a Time*