The "Self-Destructing" Knight

There had been a long period of hardship with the blog. I realized more and more that this was going to make for a great book, but probably ward me off from dating for possibly, the rest of my life. I had set out with aspirations of potentially meeting a partner, however, each time I told a friend that I thought that this was possible, I was told "Do you really think so?'

I have hope. . . but I hear hope kills people, so I guess I was to tread lightly with that hope.

I was coming off a long string of dates that weren't really gonna go anywhere. You find out at around the third date, if they are going to turn into a pumpkin, they do. I believe that we all put our best foot forward when on a first date and by date three, if they are going to let their freak flag fly, it's unfurled then.

I was beginning to re think my strategy. I was casting a net that perhaps was too inclusive. In my EOE dating, perhaps my own pre-conceived notions and preferences were getting in the way. I never thought I really had a type. I had always prided myself on being the John Mayer of diverse dating, but maybe, as I aged I really did have some ideas of what I wanted. Maybe I wanted to be a bit more selective than I had been. Early on it was fun to have nothing in common with someone. Now it was just arduous.

What is the story here. Is he using the Top Prospect finder as well??

I logged on to the dating website for what seemed like a daily log in to a work email. Parsing through the inbox spam of "sup baby," "ur a hottie," and "wanna chatz" from the team of towel men, I found what looked like the golden ticket.  I looked at his profile picture.  He looked strikingly similar to someone I had dated in college. On close examination of this doppelganger, I realized that he was not the same man and I felt OK continuing to investigate. From the looks of the picture I immediately knew that it had been taken in Bangkok. One tick in the "we have things in common category," and a tick in the "I find you attractive category." We were off to a good start.

 As I clicked on the profile I saw pictures of him in tropical locales, pictures of him at a Giants game and one of him at a swanky night club. OK. He goes out, likes football, has friends and good taste in places to go. All pluses. His message to me was simple. He came across my profile, thought we had a lot in common with our traveling and love of the finer things in life, and perhaps this could be a good place to start to see if there was an attraction.

I checked out his profile to see the rest of the stats. He was 28, interested in a relationship and lived about 45 minutes away. He worked at a family owned business and had a positive outlook on life and had a short About Me" highlighting work and his love of a good time. Under "First Date" he had put that he was willing to do whatever his date thought would be fun.

Surprisingly, not someone I have been on a date with. 

I wrote back thanking him for the note, inquiring if the picture was, in fact from Thailand, and what he thought of last season's Giants. He responded nearly immediately. He had his opinions of the season, he disclosed that he was in fact in Thailand in the picture and was impressed that I knew where the picture had been taken. He mentioned that he had traveled quite a bit on that side of the world because he had lived in Australia for sometime.

Huh. Who knew. I had spent some months in Australia back in 2010-2011 and loved it. Now we had another thing in common. Our love of Oz.

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi 

He had sent his phone number and suggested I text him so we could get off this site. I agreed and sent on my info that began our texting.

I think we text for nearly two hours the night he gave me his number. We talked about our time in Oz, travels, what we enjoyed about being back in NJ and our favorite foods to cook. Throughout the day, on days leading up to the date, he would send me texts asking how I was, what I was up to and just general get to know you questions. No weird pictures. No creepy dick pics. Just two people getting to know each other via text. We were due to get together on a Sunday afternoon. When he asked what I wanted to do, I, wanting to capitalize on this "I'll do whatever you want" proposition had shot over

Let's go check out the zoo. 

Now let me preface this by saying, the zoo has a special place in my heart. When I was a little girl, I lived just down the street from the Turtle Back Zoo for many years.  Every weekend my father could, he took me to the zoo to marvel at all of the animals. I am sure you weren't supposed to pet the yak, or grab it by the nostrils for that matter, but this was father-daughter time.  From the age of 3, I held huge boa constrictors, pet tarantulas and had my cracker filled pockets nibbled at by nanny goats, all while my father proudly looked on.

I had wanted to get back to this zoo for ages but each time that things would start to come together, something would happen and I wasn't able to get there. THIS WAS MY CHANCE!!

I also felt that it was a wholesome way to get to know someone. He seemed well traveled this mini safari might be just up his alley. I hoped.

He responded back that he had not been in a very long time, it was an original idea and "sure," he would go.

Like a child being told that they were going to Disney World, I dashed through my apartment, phone in hand and threw myself onto my bed, as if I were 10.  I was going to the zoo!!!!

Perhaps this joy glazed over were going to be two of my hard and fast rules.

I asked if he wanted to meet me there. He text me that he wasn't able to because he didn't have his car.

I, stupidly, assumed it was in the shop.

He asked if I didn't mind picking him up. I said that it wasn't a bother because, I think that in this day and age I can pick up my date. Besides, WE WERE GOING TO THE ZOO!

The date was the next day. I arrived at what I thought was going to be an apartment: It was a house. From the looks of the house, it was not decorated by men of their late 20s but rather someone who was into the Arts and Crafts Movement. Hmmm.

I pulled up and put on the air conditioning.  It barely works in my 13 year old vehicle but it was hot as balls out and not everyone is OK with the heat like I am. It began sadly eking out the vents and I prayed that the car actually cooled down before we reached the zoo. As I stood up out of the car I thought to myself, "God Damned, it's hot out here," as the sun scorched down upon me. I was dressed in a light, cotton sundress and flip flops. As my Knight exited the house, he looked just like his picture.

OK I guess I was at the right place?

As he approached I noticed that he was very well dressed. His plaid shirt was pressed, his blond hair perfectly gelled in place, and he was wearing very well cut jeans. Jeans huh? It was 104 degrees in the shade today, and he was wearing jeans. Well, I wasn't his mother, and this was my first time meeting him. What was I gonna say, "Buddy, did you step outside at all today before you got dressed?" Nope. I was going to keep my mouth shut and just stand here and smile.

He walked over to the car and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug.  He remarked about how hot it was. He even said, "I wonder if I am going to be OK in jeans." I offered to wait while he changed. Nope. He was going to keep them on. OK. Well let's see how this goes.

As we drove the half hour to the zoo we talked about how unique this was as far as first dates go. I told him I really liked making the most of my days off and I thought that this might just be fun. I mentioned that there was a great place right next door called the Boathouse that would be a super place to grab a drink and a bite to eat after our outing at the zoo. I was willing to compromise on my usually paltry budget for a date to make this a great well rounded afternoon!

I noticed that in the car, even with the AC on this poor man was sweating like he was being interrogated. Oh man. This might be a long day.

We parked the car and as we approached the zoo he commented that we might be the only adults inside without kids. I told him children weren't required to enter and we both had a laugh. Once we walked inside I realized that this man now had sweat marks like the rings of Saturn around his armpits.

In the distance I saw one of those sprinkler hoses that children play under in the summer.You know, kind of like the watering system at the grocery store that sprays the plants. There were children dancing under it, and fathers nearby, faining interest in the dancing and trying to get their soak on under the guise of mindful parenting.  I playfully suggested that we should take a run under the sprinklers and cool down. I proceeded to run through and awaited him on the opposite side. He told me he didn't want to mess up his hair. I stood bewildered.  You would rather sweat to death than mess up your hair. OK. So this man cared more about his hair than I did mine. Who am I to pass judgement.

He cautiously stood so the water barely sprayed him and definitely didn't hit his hair. I think that he may have mentioned that his shoes were new too. . .So I'm just more of a rough and tumble girl. So be it.

I offered to get him a water to drink, or throw on himself, a multitude of times while we were walking around and he declined. We had a good time chatting each other up while wandering around. I was filled with dread that this poor man was going to pass out from heat stroke while we were trying to enjoy our day. Any opportunity we had to get into an air conditioned exhibit, the dark bat cave or even petting the sharks to cool down, we took it. I continually re assured him that we could go at any point. He insisted we stayed to see all the cool looking exhibits and that he would be OK. I thanked him profusely for being such a good sport and promised good food and cold drinks in our future.

After nearly 90 minutes of torture we had finally completed the tour of the zoo. My date looked like he had been waterboarded. But keep in mind, his hair was still totally in place.

We exited the zoo and again he commented again how we were the only people without children there. I asked him if he had a good time, and aside from sweating bullets, he agreed it was a good time.

We got into the car and drove over to the restaurant that we literally could have hit with a stone from where we were. I wasn’t about to make this poor guy walk one more foot. He was saturated from head to toe and his clothes were now clinging to him.

When we sat down I immediately summoned the server.

“Can you please bring two LARGE glasses of water and some sides of ice?” I inquired.

The waiter brought over waters and I ordered a glass of Prosecco.  I asked my Knight what he was going to be drinking. He said he had “like four bottles of wine at the party I was at last night. I am super hung over and I can’t even look at wine.  I didn’t even get to bed until nearly 5am .” 

Hmmm. So he's one of these rage until dawn guys. I don't know if I can keep up with that anymore. 

“I’ll take a Markers Mark Manhattan,” he declared.

"Welp, that is definitely some of the hair of the dog that bit ya.” I thought to myself.

Usually the sight of water when I am hung over makes me want to heave. This guy was going for the gusto with the bourbon.

He looked at me beaming, “I learned what a Manhattan was watching Mad Men. I think that Don Draper is my hero.”

If I drink like Don Draper, then I am Don Draper. 

I smiled back feebly.  Hip hop horray?

As he sat there cooling like a nuclear reactor on the brink of blowing up, we chatted about our work and other previous jobs we had. He asked me about my experiences on the dating site and shared his.

I guess he had been dating via this site as much as I had, and had stories of crazy women and tales of Catfish a plenty. He was definitely no stranger to dating or women in general. He was happy to tell me of his sexcapades and wild nights and professional wooing of women. 

Through all this however, I do have to say he was very complimentary. He shared with me that he loved that I was Italian and blond. Only one of the two I had really had any say in. At one point he had asked me if we would go out again. I told him that “we would see how things went.”

He then shared that he was a womanizer that was trying to change his ways and just be with one woman.  No more of this going out, getting drunk every night and hooking up. He was looking to be a changed man. 

I cocked an eyebrow. I wasn’t really sure if me and a wanna be reformed party boy would really work. I had dated men with these ambitions in my 20s, and found that if they really were going to change, apparently it wasn’t going to happen during our tenure. My nights of drunken shenanigans, and partying till the sun came up were long in my past. I was now happy if I made it past 12:30 and seeing the sun come up seemed like an anxiety ridden nightmare these days.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond.

“That’s great,” was all I could come up with.

"Now," I thought to myself, "we begin the descent into the part where the date is gonna go south." 

“So why are you without your car these days?” I inquired.  

Let’s get all the awkward conversation out of the way right now. 

“Well I am in litigation to determine whether or not I am getting a DUI,” he responded.

OK.  Many of us have been there. I don’t think that is the particular issue. What we run into here is one of the cardinal rules I tried to put in place at the beginning of this endeavor. Dates must have a car/be able to drive.

This was gonna be a challenge. 

I then thought it would be a good time to move on to “inquiring minds want to know” question number two. I felt like I was on a roll. 

“OK. That’s good to know,” I said.

“So then are you living at home to save money for a house?” I asked.

“Well,” he said. “It’s convenient when I need rides places that I can hit up my family members. I have my own room in the basement and it’s not bad being there.”

Guideline number two: Must not live at home.

I felt like I was on a date with a teenager. So not only would I have to schlep him back and forth from his home, but I would have to jockey for a position on the couch when we wanted to watch a movie.  Awesome.  I felt like I had done this in my 20s too.  I would have actually welcomed him telling me he was still living in a fraternity house at this point.

Let’s focus on the positive I thought.  “So what’s the best part about your job?’ I asked. “Well I pretty much call my own hours, come and go as I please, only work three days a week and I pretty much just show up and wine and dine people.”

So my reformed womanizing date, who is trying to give up the party lifestyle gets paid to be a slacker and day drink as his job while others support his “pursuits.” Oh and don’t forget Mom does his laundry, cooks his meals and paid for his attorney for this court case.

I think that at 25 perhaps I would have signed up for this; because I was young and stupid. 

I would have said “I love driving. I don’t mind sharing a space with a man’s family. I think that it’s worth taking the chance that this man will become who he wants to be and I can help him.” But now, today, I just wasn’t feeling it.

My good friend Caroline tells me all the time, “You are not a charity. You don’t have to save anyone. You need someone who is complimentary to you and can be there and help care for you if you need it.” Her words echoed inside my head.

I thought it was admirable that he suffered through intense heat and the onslaught of small children. I was impressed with the fact that he paid the bill. I was flattered by the fact that he was intent to see me again, but I wasn’t really sure that this was going to go anywhere.

As we drove back to his place, I was trying to determine if I was being too judgmental. 

Again, he turned to me and asked me if we were going to go out again. "We'll see," I answered. 

As I looked over he was slathering his lips with some sort of lip balm. I commented on how I loved the lip balm I used and how addicted to it I was. He commented on how he had to continually apply it because being in the sun caused him to regularly have cold sores. But I wasn't to worry, because, it wasn't like I could get them from him. 

Umm. I didn't think that that was how all it worked and mentioned this, but he was happy to tell me I was wrong. 

Hmmm. 

As he got out of the car and said good night he told me again how he loved that I was Italian and blond. He told me he wanted to see me again. He told me he wanted to see what it would be like to be intimate with me. 

"OK, awkwardly forward," I thought to myself.

I told him that I had a lovely time, thanked him for suffering through the insane heat, and joked that he shouldn't run out and buy condoms yet. Trying to add some levity to this awkward parting dance. 

He then looked at me and laughed. 

"I don't believe in condoms," he said.

My eyes nearly bugged out of my head.  This man must be kidding. Right??? Who says that???

I thanked him for a nice day, bid him farewell, never, ever to see him again. 

The Knight That Almost Was

This is what I get for perusing men like shoes.

I came across the email of this almost-Knight in my inbox and should have listened to that little voice inside of me that said "you know that this isn't going to be what you think it is. The universe laughs at you regularly lady."

The picture was too perfect. And well, it sort of looked familiar. I couldn’t place it. Don’t blame me. I’m happy I can remember what I had for breakfast this morning.  Beyond that, part of my mental blockage is  I have met probably thousands of people. No really. Thousands of people.  Years of roller derby, traveling the world, being just generally outgoing and don’t forget the many, many conventions I have attended for a myriad of employers. Yes. I have probably met an entire stadium of people and well, I think that is a conservative estimate.

I imagine my wedding looking kind of like this.

One of the downfalls of this gregarious and outgoing lifestyle is you just are not sure where you met people or even sometimes, even who they are. I am self admittedly HORRID with remembering peoples names.

I can recall asking one of my best friends while we were working together one night if a man at a table nearby was some I had dated. 

Where that isn’t bad enough, I have often walked up to complete strangers and totally mistaken them for someone else.

Take case in point. My bestie and I are walking down the street.  From about a block away I see who I think is Mark Sanchez the Jet’s quarterback. I have met Mark on a number of occasions while living and working in Morristown and therefore don’t feel weird walking up and saying "hi". 

Not to miss this opportunity to say hello to my old acquaintance I shout out, “Hey Mark!” And begin feverishly waving hello. 

I am now shoved off the sidewalk by my friend. 

“What the hell was that for?” I cry out.

“That’s Chris Humphries you idiot.” 

Come on. From a distance, maybe??

"Well what was he doing with Kim Kardashian? I thought they were divorced?" I respond. 

She runs her hand down her face in aggravation.  "That wasn't Kim Kardashian either dear."

You catch my drift.

Staring at this profile I am intrigued by the picture, and the handle is a reference to Greek mythology which piques my interest. I think that his dark rugged looks and fresh face in what was a poor gym outfit was strangely attractive. 

I clicked on the email and it was short and direct. He said he had come across my profile and wanted to say hello. He inquired if I still lived in the Morristown area and if I would be interested in grabbing a drink. He signed the note "Rick".

He only had two pictures of himself. One of him in work out gear as the profile picture and one of him in what looked like a friend had taken a glamour shot. It looked like both pictures had been re touched, but these days, it's easy enough to re-touch your own photos so maybe it's just that he's an avid photo guy? I just kept looking at the two pictures. Was this the same guy in both shots. I couldn't tell. They looked like they were similar, but there was just something fishy about this.

I looked at his "stats". He was 34, worked in finance and described himself as someone into fitness and travel. In his pictures he looked Greek, I thought. His "about me" was brief, citing that he was new to the site, was happy to share info about himself with those who inquired, and interested in meeting someone to "date".

I wasn't sure that I wanted to meet this guy so much to potentially date, rather than to have a re-con mission to find out if this guy was who he really was in his pictures.

I just couldn't shake that the main profile picture looked so familiar.  . .

At this point of the blog I was on a dating bender. I figured if I just got through the last few dates that were rostered I could now be back to a normal life.  It's the way I likened feeling when I knew I was in the last 100 yards and close to the finish line. You can pass out once you are over the line, but you just have to motor to get to the end of it until then. I was severely dating fatigued at this point and just wanted this 30 date spree to be over.

I emailed him back to see if he was interested in meeting for a drink in Morristown. He offered to meet me at the Westin.

Um, I'm not too keen on meeting at hotels, but I had been there before for dinner, and he mentioned wanting to get a bite to eat. I was happy to have a tasty meal at the Blue Morel on the ground floor of the Westin so I agreed to meet that Sunday evening.

After sending emails back and forth, he had text me on and off on the days leading up to the meeting. Your typical hello, how was your day, sort of stuff.

All this while I am still wondering how I seem to know this man's picture. At one point he had asked me to send him a picture of myself so he had a reference for when we met. Whatever dude.

I sent the same picture I always send. Something from the neck up, smiling and looking wholesome. Generally in a cotton shirt and a casual hair do, cause, well that's the way I roll.

I then asked him to send me a picture of him. This is where it got interesting.  At first he sent the same picture that he had on his profile. I saved this into my pictures and then text it along to a friend to consult with someone more opt to knowing who this person might be. It was just seering my brain that I couldn't place why this picture looked so familiar.  

I figured I was still a few hours out from meeting this guy so why not call him out to NOT get Catfished again.

I told him that I had been in receipt of the last picture but did he have another one that he could send on.

Now a new phone number popped up in my text messages. This person however wasn't the same name of the Greek guy I had been talking to but "Rick" had now turned into "Ricardo" and the picture that was attached to this phone number only reminded me of one person:

Who the Christ was this picture of?? This wasn't my Greek God? This guy looked like his old, miniature, mariachi band uncle?? 

I'm not even joking.

The next picture that came a few minutes later from this new Ricardo email looked more like this:

Was this supposed to be the "moneyshot" that was going to cause me to say, "You're profile picture looks NOTHING AT ALL LIKE YOU and you have been LYING TO ME FROM THE START, but HELL YEAH, let's go out anyway?"

I was somewhere between horrified and perplexed.  I had sent on the original picture from the profile pic on the dating site to my friend and I hadn't heard back from her.

I pinged her via text again.

"Look who sent me some 'more recent' photos of himself!" I exclaimed and attached the new photos to the text.

What I got back made me laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants.

"Well, I didn't think you were going out with Zac Efron."she replied.

"What do you mean, 'you didn't think I was going out with Zach Efron'. Who the Christ is Zac Efron?????"

"You know, that guy from the movie The Lucky One? Haven't you seen it?" she inquired.

I guess I live in a vacuum?? Or maybe this is what happens when you don't watch schmaltzy chick flicks. I am part of like 8% of America that doesn't know who this person is. I must just know him from E television or from movie posters or promos and that's why he looked so darn familiar without me still having a clue who it was.

So I googled "Zach Ephron" and wa-la.  There emerged two of my "Knight's" pictures.

After my Knight that Almost Was had sent the second picture he asked why I had not responded.  "Did you not like the picture?"he asked.

I just can't. . . .

I couldn't tell if he thought or hoped I was blind and dumb. In any case. There was no date as scheduled a few hours later. I told him I wasn't able to go, and that perhaps we weren't a good fit after all. To this day he still sends me pictures of some man that looks like the man from Treasure Island who I can only assume is the real Ricardo.  I would really tell him to stop, but sometimes when I am having a crappy day, the thought that he thinks I'm a moron totally amuses me.