Dating Austin: Part I

02 Sep Dating Austin: Part I

I’m single for the first time in Austin.

People keep telling me I should feel confident, even downright good about that statement. As a 20-something year old, young professional, accomplished girl hailing from Michigan making it in the ‘big’ city I should look at this new world I find myself in with excitement in my eyes; because, so I am told, opportunities to meet eligible bachelors are in abundant excess and right around the corner.

*Eyeroll here*

I really don’t want to do it. I don’t want to date. I didn’t really think I’d have to date again. Man. But here I am. As much as I’d like to think, “If it’s meant to be they’ll find me at my house, on my couch.” I know I need to get out and meet people.

Bumble. Tinder. OKC. Hinge. All the common ‘online-dating’ sites. Some of these more hook-up oriented I’ve learned…and others supposedly about finding real connections. Naturally I’m a bit of a cynic, sometimes for cynicism’s sake. Sifting through a stack of dating profiles and finding even one person that I can imagine having a conversation with is nothing short of a chore for me.

But what the hell? I’ll never meet anyone with that attitude.

So here it is. I went on my first date in four years with a perfect stranger I met online and shocker: it completely sucked. I called my Dad afterward and told him all about it, he scolded me for not having an exit plan…you see, even my Dad has more recent dating experience than me. His advice – only meet for one drink on your first date, nothing more. No need to stretch out a date from drinks into dinner into a creepy-scary walk around a bad neighborhood at night like I did.

So this guy…let’s call him Zach. Clean profile, thoughtful responses, asked to meet in-person fairly quickly (thank goodness, do not text me all day every day until the end of time) contributed to factors that led me to believe he’d be a good candidate. I should have called it immediately when he showed up with a full-on ‘I-ride-mountain-bikes-and-drink-craft-beer’ foot-long beard that was not in any of his profile photos. But hey, I was already at the bar and had Ubered down so I was invested $15 at this point, why not see how it goes. And, I had gone through all the trouble of picking out the right ‘first date’ outfit:

I give the ‘benefit of the doubt’ to people in my life a little too freely. I am learning this lately.

Reflecting on this date there were so many clues right away this wasn’t going to turn out well. First, he mentioned he biked to our date and did not own a car. Then he drank both drinks we ordered very quickly and asked a couple of times if I wanted a third, which I declined. Steering the conversation away from alcohol I asked, “How did you come up with the idea for the mobile app you just launched?” he replied, “Honestly, I’ve talked about it a lot recently and I’d rather not talk about it. But tell me more about you.” Why someone would say this I am not sure.

He asked me to get dinner afterward and I said I was going home to because I was tired from a day on the lake. Insisting he knew this great place up the road, Launderette, that I simply must try I caved mainly out of interest of visiting this little gem and in part due to him nagging me to spend more time.

At the restaurant he ordered something for us to share without glancing at the menu. Realizing it had tomatoes in it I said, “Not a huge fan of tomatoes so I’ll pick around them.” “Oh no, you MUST eat it with the tomato, that’s what makes it so good.” Maybe this is the curse of being polite but I would never order a dish to share if my guest wasn’t a fan the ingredients, so for me to say that was gracious as hell. His response made him sound completely unaware. Dude, I’ve hated tomatoes to 20+ years, this one night with you will not change that.

Halfway through dinner he asked me what I was doing tomorrow – being completely unprepared, I answered with not sure yet. Then he invited me to 5 hour event with his colleagues for the following day, smiling a bit through his beard saying he was looking forward to date #2.

Yikes.

At this point it’s clear to me I am not physically or emotionally attracted to this person, they’re off-putting, and very pushy. I insist on paying for dinner as the last thing I want is to owe this guy anything. Mentioning again how tired I am and that I need to go home and let my dog out. Apparently this is the wrong thing to say as Zach makes fun of people’s lame excuses around their dogs. Foraging onward I repeat I’m going to head home.

“Not without a quick walk around the neighborhood, then you can go.”

Okay so at this point I have some options:

1. “Screw you, I’m going home don’t tell me when I can and can’t do that or pressure me to spend more time with you I am clearly uncomfortable and am leaving, FYI your beard is gross.”
2. Or, and unfortunately this is what I really said, “Okay, let’s walk up the street and I’ll get picked up there.”

Turns out, little bearded Zachary, was planning to plant a big wet, hairy, beardy, kiss on my unsuspecting lips while on this walk around the East side, at night, AKA: the area of the city with the highest violent crime rate, no big deal. Left speechless (in a bad way) after he swooped in for an aggressive kiss he asked how that was for me.

“Well, I’ve never kissed anyone with a beard, so that was new.” I offer lamely.

At this point I am just dying for Maria in her red KIA Forte to come around the corner and pick me up, and in my imagination run into him (leaving only minor injuries of course, maybe a broken arm – max). Mortified and confused I climb into the car. “Text me when you get home, see you tomorrow, sweetie!” I mean, guy, are you that clueless?

Needless to say, there would be no date #2. How on Earth could a guy misinterpret my spoken word and body language so incorrectly. In a way I felt violated. The predominating emotion however, was disappointment in myself. Why didn’t I listen to my gut? Why did I let all of this happen? Why didn’t I go home when I saw his big stupid beard?

Now the money doesn’t bother me, but if I had listed to my instincts and went home on the spot I would have been out a $30 RT Uber ride. Instead $115 because I could not stand letting this guy pay for dinner and I wasn’t prepared enough to give a firm ‘No.” when he asked.

My biggest take away from all this: trust yourself. Trust your instincts, they are gold. Trust your heart, it won’t lead you wrong. Sunday morning, I text Zach.

Now this is about as nice as I can be. It’ not my job to teach someone how to be better on a first date – this guy was so clueless I don’t think advice would have helped and so egotistical that his openness to another’s feedback would be lacking.

The alternative response to his plea for a second chance was telling him “All I felt when we kissed was your beard on my face and the feeling of passing panic as I irrationally thought that maybe I had done something to provoke this kiss.” No future here, sorry guy.

But that’s not what I’m going for. That’s not me, or my job. What is my job is to make sure I am not leading someone on, that I am not lying to myself or anyone else. That I am fair, and kind, while I unabashedly pursue what I want until I find it, or rather, find them.