I went on an impromptu date on Friday. The fellow and I had already made plans to get together Saturday but he spontaneously suggested we go out that night instead.
I’m trying to be present and at the moment it seemed like a fine idea. I had been mulling over the idea of going out to karaoke, so energetically I was fairly ready to get out the door.
Many hard won lessons have come from all the dating I have done in the past. I have spent most of the last year reckoning with how my partner selection has resulted in the realization that I don’t notice whether I believe them to be a suitable match until well after it should have been apparent they were not.
So, with intention, I am slowing down. I am paying attention. I am listening. I am focusing on learning about them and noticing what I think and feel rather than focusing on trying to win anyone over.
This has been having some very useful results.
As it did on Friday.
First date with this fellow had gone pretty well. I found him gregarious and charming, if a little inclined to dominate the conversation. Having been a nervous talker for most of my life, I don’t see this as problematic particularly on a first meeting.
I found him attractive and was interested in getting to know him better. I had suggested getting together for a low-key hike hoping we could chat more. He agreed, but didn’t seem thrilled with my suggestion. He had mentioned that he likes a drink to loosen him up. I know a lot of people for whom that is true, so again, not something that concerned me particularly.
We met at a spot he suggested. He comes in offers to buy me a drink and then brings it back to the table. His first comment upon seating himself is about my hair.
For reference, on our first date, this is how my hair was done.
For our second meetup I decided to wear an off-the-shoulder sweater and pull my hair back to display my collarbone to its full advantage.
He expressed that this was a look that came as a complete surprise to him. He asserted that this “was not at all” what my profile was suggesting as my look.
While it’s true my hair is down in all but one of my profile photos, it’s not in an attempt to hide the fact that I have an undercut. It’s simply a product of having most of my best photos with my hair down.
His tone wasn’t exactly accusatory, but neither was it complimentary. The implication clearly being that I was performing some version of a bait and switch.
I found this a bit rich coming from a man who claimed his height was a full 2 inches taller than it turned out to be in real life.
For me, the issue isn’t height; it’s the insecurity that prompted the lie.
I have dated a number of men who were barely taller than me and didn’t think twice about it. With only one or two exceptions, they thought about it a lot.
He also mentioned, for the second or third time, how bothersome he found it that “people” would question his masculinity simply because he was well dressed and groomed.
Okay then.
So, with that not great start under our belt, I suggested a change of venue. Primarily because I had always intended to go to karaoke if I left the house that night, so I invited him to tag along.
The Alibi was close, and since I hadn’t been in years, I decided it was time to revisit this storied Portland karaoke experience.
I was genuinely delighted when I got inside and reintroduced myself to the over-the-top tiki vibe. 10/10 no notes.
The conversation seemed to flow a little more naturally by this point. Nothing terribly consequential, still just a getting to know you rhythm.
Then, I got up for my turn at the mic.
For whatever reason, when I came back, the vibe had shifted notably. He was now sitting pretty much as far away from me in the booth as he could get. I wasn’t really sure how to interpret this body language, but I knew it wasn’t a great sign.
Then he expressed the opinion that I wasn’t like most women he’d ever met. I reasoned that was probably true. He then went on to ask if I was ever worried that my particularities when it came to my vision for a romantic relationship would leave me isolated and lonely.
I was a little taken aback by the question, but answered honestly that of course I worried about that from time to time. The question struck a nerve and I did tear up a tiny bit. I dabbed at my eyes with my fingers for a moment and was over it.
He then went on to express his concern that “everyone could see” he had made me cry and were thinking he was an asshole.
👀
I looked around. Though the place was hopping, there wasn’t anyone sitting near enough to have noticed me dab at my eyes for 2 seconds. Nor did I think it was likely anyone was paying attention. I found it curious that he was projecting this judgment of his behavior on an imaginary audience.
So I asked “Who do you think is even looking at us?”
He gestured to the booth behind me. I glanced over my shoulder – meaning I was facing away from them and thus unlikely to be spotted wiping away a tear – and made eye contact with a lovely young woman. I don’t think she had been looking at me in particular until we locked eyes, but once we did I offered a friendly hello.
Somehow, we ended up chatting with her for a bit. She was with a bigger group and seemed to be sort of on her own amongst them. I was not trying to engage, merely make it less awkward that she caught me looking at her. My date however seem to see this as an opportunity to escape our conversation and start a whole new one.
He began asking about where she lived, where her recent ex-boyfriend had lived, how long she’d been in Portland… It was standard small talk, and not overtly flirtatious in nature, but when I tried to chime in a time or two, he would immediately run roughshod over my contribution and continue chatting at her.
Now, I am neither jealous nor insecure. I was not threatened by his talking to someone else. I did object to him excluding me from the conversation I only accidentally started because of his expressed paranoia about people watching us and judging him.
So, I got up paid my tab and mentioned I needed to get back to Mimi*. I did so with as much politesse as I could muster, which I think was a fair bit.
This was a rare example of noticing, in real time, a number of problematic behaviors. Before it got physical, before emotional entanglement, before any investment beyond a bit of my time.
The whole experience made me so grateful for what I’ve learned over the last year. How to be present with my thoughts and feelings. How to be curious and open rather than trying to force a particular outcome.
Even though that’s the last I’ll see of him, I’m glad to know I’m capable of noticing when he showed me who he really was.
*She is an exceptionally good excuse to get out of tiresome social obligations.
Comments are closed