The "Perfect" Knight

To say that this has been a successful endeavor so far would be like calling the war on drugs successful. 

I was beginning to wonder if perhaps by choosing a free dating site, was this what was hexing my dates. Perhaps segueing to a paid site like Match.com would get more Knights in "buying mode" if you will, and produce better affects. While I have been mulling over this idea, I decided maybe I had to be more proactive in my pursuits.

Maybe I was relying too much on the luck of the draw of the dating site, and I had to get out  in public and make myself known. Take initiative, if you will, and try more traditional modes of meeting men.

I have no shame in approaching someone and introducing myself. I guess it comes from the life mantra  I have of, "if you don't want to know me, I've come this long in my life without you. I will continue living without you hereafter."

I must say though, most of my great relationships have started with me introducing myself. Knowing now what I didn't know then, they probably would have NEVER approached me in public. Many mentioned well into our dating I appear unapproachable when with my friends, or that they didn't think that I would "go for" someone like them. This is all very odd to me. Why would they think that?

But using this research and developing based upon the past mistakes and newly acquired intelligence, I began to put myself out there as much as I could in real life; not just my virtual one. 

I have attended concerts, gone to night clubs and attended parties where I didn't really know anyone but the host or hostess. I even stumbled upon a singles mixer (actually I had no idea it was going on, I was just there having birthday drinks), joined day trips and taken a small engine classes to "put myself out there" in a traditional manner. It's gotten me what my father likes to call "gatz." (If you are Italian you will know the answer before I translate it for our non-Italian peoples.) Nothing. 

I was beginning to get concerned that perhaps I would not be able to do a blog with 30 dates, if there were not going to be 30 Knights. The pool that had been soliciting me, however unique and interesting they were, just weren't what I was looking for. 

I was reaching a new level of despondence with the blog.  As I sat at my local watering hole with a few friends, my mind wandered and I wondered why I was doing this blog. For whatever reason at this time, I happened to look across the bar and see a large gathering of what looked like co-workers getting together for a happy hour. I noticed one man in particular that seemed to be the center of the conversation of the group. He was laughing and smiling, and telling some story that had the whole group engaged. He was tall, well dressed, with nicely styled light brown hair and eyes that seemed to twinkle when he laughed.  He seemed to be fit, and employed, judging by the group he was with.  He also seemed older. Perhaps in his early or mid forties and I DID NOT SEE A WEDDING RING! 

I thought perhaps that the glass of Pinot Grigio I was having had gone to my head. From a distance, this man looked like opportunity knocking. I was not going to miss this opportunity! I pulled out one of my business cards, scribbled a note that read "If you would like to grab a drink at a later time, give me a call" on it, and proceeded to pull myself together.  Unlucky for me, because I was in all black, I looked like the rest of the waitstaff at the restaurant. Damn my all blacks!! Whatever. My business card clearly said that  I had a job outside of the world of waitressing so maybe this would help. 

But what about this crowd of people around him. . . If this didn't go well this could make me the laughing stock of the whole group. 

"Oh screw it," I thought. 

I had never seen these people before and would probably never see them again. 

I stood up, straightened myself out, took my hair out of its ponytail, did a flip and fluff and walked over to him. I tapped him on the shoulder. I looked straight at him and said "I am sorry to disturb you while you were with your friends. I just wanted to give you this," as I placed my business card in his hand.  I then proceeded to walk as if I was continuing to the ladies room where I shut the door, pushed my back up against it, (like he was somehow going to come in) and wondered to myself "what the hell did you just do?"

I shortly thereafter scurried out of the bathroom, making sure to hide myself as I returned to my seat across the room. I happened to glance at my unsuspecting victim and his cadre of people. They were huddled around him holding up my business card. My worst fear confirmed!!! Oh Christ. What have I done.  I was awaiting the prank phone calls asking for an Al Coholic or text messages with lewd pictures. I began to assume the worst. What have I done!

I decided it was a good time to make a break for it. This looked like it wasn't going down well, and maybe this was a mistake. Nothing like sneaking out the side door as you are publicly humiliated by the man that you thought was hotter than baked bread.

I slinked out the side door unnoticed, and that is when the text messages started.

"Who is this," someone from a strange number wrote.

Trying to make light of it, I decided I was going to play dumb. 

"I don't know. You're the person texting me," I responded.

The next text came as the ultimate surprise.  "Are you some sort of stalker?" he responded.

Oh man. This was going south at warp speed.  How can I salvage this?

"If you are texting the number that you received on the business card, as I believe you are, I am not some sort of stalker. I am a girl that was sitting at the bar and thought perhaps it would be nice to see if you wanted to get a drink. You were surrounded by your friends, and I didn't want to disturb you, so that's why I dropped the card and ran. Remember me?" 

"Were you the waitress," was the response I got back. 

Oh jeez.  

Clearly this man has had quite a bit to drink, but I guess being in all blacks, it was easy to assume I was the waitress. I think I could still salvage this. 

I authored the next text which was either going to make or break my situation. "Does this help?" I attached the most G rated, wholesome, above board picture I had of myself. 

"Yes, yes, yes!" Was the response I got back. 

Now here is the affect I am looking for from these men!

"I thought you were the waitress!" he proclaimed.

"Well that's OK," I thought. Then the next text rolled in. . ."And who would have thought such a beautiful woman would have given me her business card." 

Now we were getting somewhere folks.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

"Well," I responded, "I am heading home right now," as I scooped my belongings and ran out the door before he could see me. 

He asked if we could get together in the near future, and I told him I was game.  After all, I was pleased as punch that he was interested in meeting. 

We decided via a few texts that we would meet at the Famished Frog around 7pm for a drink or two. I put on a sweater dress, leggings and boots and bundled up to head out in the freezing weather.  I was excited. I recalled what he looked like, but I find that over time, even if it's a few days, I begin to get hazy on the specifics. I blame it on anything from the conga line of bar patrons at my night job, to glamorizing people to some extent. I hoped that he would be somewhere obvious, so that way I would be able to spot him easily. And there he was.

He was half into his pint of Yuengling when I arrived. He stood up to greet me.  He was more handsome than I had recalled. He had this smile that sparkled like a game show host when he greeted me "hello!"

He stood from the table dressed in a chunky sweater, jeans and black shoes. I thought to myself "what a snazzy dresser he was!"

I sat down across from him and just sat and stared for a minute. "Wow, this guy's even better looking than I remember!" I thought to myself.  I actually began to get nervous.

My ship has come in!

He remarked at how it was so odd how we "met", and that how he wasn't sure who I was so he was a bit pensive about our meeting. I told him that it was a little odd, but really, who wants to meet totally normal people. 

I ordered myself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and settled in for what I hoped was going to be a great chat. His first question, was the same as many of my dates.  "What type of business do you own," he asked.  I find that across the board, everyone wants to know what I do for work during the day since I profess to "work for myself." I often feel like this is some sort of qualifying question to make sure that they aren't going to have to pay for the date beyond drinks or something odd like that. Generally when I explain the work I do in marketing, you can nearly watch their faces awash with relief. 

I inquired about his work since he had mentioned he worked independently and had flexible hours as well. He was an investment banker and had been for nearly 20 years. I was now doing the math trying to figure out how old he was. 

He looked like my peer.  I would have said late 30's and probably bet money on it. He was fit, with a youthful face and a thick head of dark brown hair. However, the way he was talking, I could tell that he was older. That was totally cool with me. I'm not an ageist. 

He asked what I had been up to in the recent past, and I mentioned that I had been planning my birthday vacation to St. Lucia and the last trip was a girls night out in Atlantic City. He then asked me how old I was. Well, where this bothered me at the beginning of this Tour de Dates, now it was just old shoe. Besides, if they couldn't take the heat, better to get out of the kitchen now. 

"Thirty five," I responded, with near pride.

He then told me that I didn't look a day over 25 (points) and that he was 48. I nearly fell off my chair. This man looked AMAZING for near 50. 

I told him how great he looked and asked how he kept up this great shape. Turns out the guy was totally into yoga, biking, running and diving. Wow. This guy just gets better and better!

I asked him about his diving experiences, having had my fair share as well. I enjoyed listening to him talk about his adventures and felt quite comfortable talking with him since we seemed to have a number of hobbies in common. This may be the perfect knight!!

He mentioned that he had two children that were not yet teenagers, and how active they were with sports and activities.  I commented on how proud he must be of them and he shared that they were "great". However the next story was kind of off-putting. 

He shared that he had not felt well over the Christmas holiday and despite the fact that he had missed Christmas with his children, he had managed to rally to go skiing the following day. Hmmm. Didn't seem very fatherly of me, but maybe I was being super critical. 

We continued on with our conversation. He asked me questions about my work, and I about his. We talked about how we had both enjoyed living in Morristown, past trips we had taken and some of the things we were looking forward to come Spring.  We talked about how we love horror films, good wine and great food. He asked how my trip to AC had gone and I told him it was a brief girls night out, and how bizarre AC could be on a Sunday night.  He then launched into an odd story about his last trip to a casino in Pennsylvania. He shared that he and his buddies were three sheets to the wind and a group of girls came over and started to chat them up. Then he divulged that one of the women made her home on his lap and how he could tell she wasn't wearing any underwear while he was grinding on his leg. And that was the story.  Gross. Really? 

"But you were doing so well!" I thought to myself.  

Why ever would he want to tell me this story?  Well, maybe it was because in less than two hours he was now enjoying beer number five, that I had seen. Hmmm. 

I got up to use the rest room. I walked off assessing this date. It had started out so magical. What happened? Was I being critical? Had I just come to the point of dating fatigue? I was going to rally and give this the old college try to make sure I was to remain open minded.  

As I went to sit back down in my chair he commented on how "bootylicous" I was.  Really? Was I getting punked? Oh shit.  Here we go. 

Growing concerned about his drinking and potentially driving, I inquired if he had far to go. He divulged that he lived down the street and had walked. Phew. This segued to his next lot of stories that to save time I will entitle, "Times the Police Definitely Should Have Carted Me Away for Public Intoxication/Drunk Driving". There were roughly a half dozen of these. 

Now I am doing this weird running check sheet in my head. 

This near 50 year old man, acts like a boy on Spring break, parties like a Fraternity kid, has the self control of a toddler, who seems to be a self-centered crumby father and keeps referring to me a being bootylicious.  I think it's time to bow out gracefully and exit the first door, or window I can find. 

I then proceeded to do my patented "Oh my gosh, I'm so tired," while yawning. . .

He tells me he has had a great time, and we should do this again soon. I nod in silence. I tell him I am going to head out, and he tells me he is going to stay behind to have a "few more" and watch the games. Awesome. I am getting away scott free. 

I walk to my car fearing I have been judgmental and I don't like that. I tell myself that I am going to give this man another opportunity if he texts me and asks me out again.

The following day he texts me.  He asks me if I want to bring my bootylicous self by to his place one night this weekend to watch horror films and have a sleep over.  I don't even respond. Why have a sequel to this horrifying event. 

The Persistent Knight

I was going to post a blog about another date that I had recently but this date was definitely material that I had to get on paper ASAP. If you have been following the blog, you will recall that I mentioned that there was a Persistent Knight. The following date recap is the date I had with him.  The back story needs to be shared so you can better appreciate exactly why this was just  way too much. Let's start at the beginning if you will.

This Knight had started emailing within the first two weeks I was on the dating site. He would send messages without punctuation, that were running monologues guised as an introduction. 

"i want to take you out and show you what a great date i can be and treat you like a queen and go to dinner and have the best time ever because you are a beautiful girl and i know you will like me and i will like you and we will be happy on our date. . . ." You get the picture. It was frustrating to read, but who am to be dusgrammatòfòbic and not give someone who may be a great person with bad grammar a chance. 

Since they all looked pretty much like the message above, part of me wanted to meet this man that had no regard for the English language.  I send him an email agreeing to meet and have dinner as he has requested. He immediately emailed me back. He wanted to make sure I knew that he was going to take me on the greatest date ever and that I was going to have the time of my life.

I live by the motto - "Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Since this gentleman was seemingly doing just that, who would want to turn down the best date they ever had in their life. Not me! It's been a tough go with the first 9 dates and well, maybe 10 is a magic number. 

I proceeded to give him my phone number so he can text me. This began the texting leading up to the date. In the beginning he would text in the morning to ask how my day was.  Sweet.  

He would text on a Friday to see how my weekend was. That’s lovely.  

He text me to ask how my Thanksgiving was. All very nice. 

As the date drew nearer, the texts were more often and sometimes rambling.  A few were confirming I still wanted to go on the date with him. Where should we go? What time? All normal texting back and forth between two people setting up an evening out.  

During this time he had called twice and both times I was either driving or in the middle of work. I hadn’t really gotten to talk to him either time because I wasn’t well equipped to talk, but he didn’t seem to mind. To be polite I answered a few questions, talked briefly and then reminded him that I was at work, driving or working heavy machinery and I should probably focus on what I was doing. 

A few days before the date was when the text messages started getting odd.  He asked what I did at night.  (I think that some of these guys must think I am a hooker. Not sure if that's what they are looking or or not). 

I explained to him that I bar tend at night. This resulted in a eight bubble long stream of text messages from him about how he always ends up with bartenders and how much he likes his martinis. Hmmm.  Some people overshare. Maybe he's an avid typist. . .I text that I will call him later. 

Shortly there after he texts again about how he’s excited about the date. I think I sent I was too with a smiley face.  The following day the daily text has a concerned tone. He’s ready to meet; am I still sure I still want to.  He tells me it's cool if I don’t want to, but can I call him to talk about it.  I call him and re assure him that I am still willing to meet.  He suggests we meet in Sayreville, which according to him, is halfway between Morristown and where he is from.  Visiting Sayreville is not in my plan this week. I suggest Jersey City. He says why not the Grasshopper in Morristown.  Odd that he chose this as our place for the date of a lifetime, but he explains that his buddies had been there before and recommended it for the Irish food. I agree that it is a great spot and we have decided to meet at 7:30 on a Monday night.

I get a text from him at 7:15 asking if I am at the Hopper yet. I send back that I am “nearly” there.  I arrive at 7:26pm and park my car in the lot next to the restaurant.  I end up having to park at a meter and realize I have no quarters. Not only am I quarter less but the meter will run till 12pm and it's not even 8.  Faaaa.  

I shove some dimes in the damn machine and make a mental note that I will have to get quarters at the bar soonish. I have a eureka. If this all goes to shit, I can say I forgot to put quarters in my meter and bolt.  OK, emergency parachute ready. I haven’t arranged for an emergency call tonight but feel since the Hopper has always been my extended living room, I should be able to get out of any not so great situation pretty easily. I gather myself and focus on the possibility that this could be the best date of my life, take a deep breath, and head towards the restaurant.   

I enter the front door and I immediately see my date at the bar. He is a good looking man. He has black hair with a bit of salt and pepper hi light. He has great steel blue eyes.  He stands a little bit taller than I am in my heels and is dressed in nice jeans, a buttondown, leather jacket and scarf.  He looks incredibly inviting and smiles warmly at me.  I felt a bit more relaxed by the warm reception.  He says, “Chris?,” and I greet him with a "hello". 

Here’s where I make the first mistake.

I see he has a beer sitting on the bar. I tell him to hang at the bar for a minute while I get some quarters from the bartender and go out and put them in my meter. I let him know that all the meters are till 12am (in case he didn’t know), and ask him if he needs any quarters for his car. He tells me he's not going to bother, so I proceed to tell him I will be right back. 

Now, any reasonable person knowing what I know NOW would have just left. I am the unsuspecting victim in this. 

I put two quarters in the meter only to find out that it's eaten the first and is specific meter is only a 30 minute meter. I should have stopped what I was doing and just got in my car and left when it only allowed for 30 minutes.  It was a sign from the universe. Did I acknowledge it?  NOPE. I move the car to a meter where they are till midnight. I foolishly feed the meter till midnight and hope for the best. He's cordial, nice looking and smiles a whole lot. This could go well!

When I return to the bar he magically has produced a flower in a plastic wrapping. He hands it to me and tells me he "wanted to see me first to see if I was worth it." 

"Glad I made the cut?" I think to myself as I try to maintain a smile. I thank him and tell him it was a lovely gesture. I ask if he wants to sit upstairs where we can hear each other better. He agrees and we make small talk while we are waiting to be seated. He is complimentary and keeps telling me I look better than my pictures. I say thank you each time, feeling no less embarrassed.  

Immediately when we sit down he starts in with one of what will be the three key phrases this evening. 

1.  "I didn't know what to make of you."

2.  "Ask me anything, I am the most honest person you will ever meet."

3.  "So we are going to go out again, right?"

Keep these in mind, like when you watch Pulp Fiction knowing that each scene either has food, religion or bathrooms. Pepper this through the following coverage of the conversation roughly every eight minutes, or till you want to scream. Then you will really feel how painful this was.

What? You never heard this theory before?

**If you are hard up for a parlor game this weekend, you can turn this into a drinking game. Every time I reference phrase 1, 2 or 3, you get to drink. . . I hope you have no where to be.**

Hey man, we got a new game! Bring  your 'puter!

We sit down and the waitress comes to get our drink order. He orders a vodka martini and I get a glass of Pinot Grigio.  (2) I ask him to tell me about his work. (2) He tells me he has been in construction for some time and he enjoys it.  (1) He tells me that he wasn't sure what I was going to be like from my pictures because they were all different. (1) He wasn't sure if I was really who I was in my profile. (1) He asks me how I think the date is going. (1)(2) 

I feel like I am on a date with Joe Gorga. He has a thick Hudson county accent and all the hallmarks of the Vinnie Gombatz that I have successfully evaded all these years. Yet here I sit. Lucky me.

"When I was 20 I would have made my way through this whole bar to get with you"

During our conversation he has been perched on the edge of his seat and it makes me a bit nervous. At points when he talks I wonder if he is going to leap right off the seat and tackle me. (2) He keeps asking me to ask him questions. I go through all the usual: Where did you go to school? Have you always lived in NJ? What do you enjoy most about your job? What do you do with your spare time? What hobbies do you have? Where do you enjoy vacationing? (2) The list goes on and on and I am running out of questions. With each pause in the conversation he asks if I am having a good time, if I am what he hoped for and (3).  I feel like I should throw in a different answer other than "yes" just to mix it up and see if he's paying attention. 

He now tells me that he wants to know everything about me.

"Tell me about yourself because. . . "(1) he would really like to take me out again if I meet his expectations. He asks if I have ever been married (1). I tell him "they keep asking, I keep saying no" to be funny.  He seems to get a bit upset. He wants to know if I am dating anyone and what is wrong with me that no one else is if I am not, in fact, dating someone else. (3) REALLY? Can't I ask the same of him?

I explain I have just gotten back into the dating thing recently and yes, I am dating, but there is not one person that I am involved with. I am just seeing what is out there and how it goes. 

This does not seem acceptable to him. He doesn't like girls that date around and that is not what he is looking for. I explain that I am happy dating and if he doesn't like it, I guess I'm not the girl for him.  Hoping that this comment will wrap up the date, I begin to look for the waitress to bring the check. She comes by and he orders another martini and me another glass of wine. Dang! He was unfazed by the comment AND I am still here. 

He now starts in with what will now be the fourth running theme of the date:  "If we were together."

If we were together and:

- I wanted to get married

- I wanted to have kids

- I wanted to go salsa dancing

- I was being hit on by another man

- he was approached by another woman

- I wasn't sure what squash to buy

And the list goes on.

I think that he covered each and every scenario where we could be dating on a Tuesday afternoon or  through a life altering event. He also has an answer as to what he would do in each and every scenario. In turn, he asks what I would do. This is bizarre. I am just at a loss for responses and this doesn't make him happy. I explain to him that I'm a "fly by the seat of my pants" sort of girl, and I don't make long running  expectations or commitments sometimes because life always has a way of changing things and laughing at us. 

He is still baffled by this. 

"So if we were together a year from now, and I wanted to have a kid with you, (I'd give you a kid, he says) you don't know if that is something that you want to do?" he asks.

I reply the same answer that I tell EVERYONE.

 "I have never thought long and hard about kids because I don't think you go into a Benz dealership with $5 in your pocket," I reply. 

"It's great to dream big but when you are grounded in reality, you see things for what they are. Applying the same principal; I have not yet been with a person that I would want to have a child with and therefore I have not thought about having kids." 

What I really want to close with is -  "And if you think that we would ever have a kid together your ludacris," but I refrain.

Bada-bing, bada-boom

He then states that if I'm not sure about having a kid "at my age, you might as well give up on the idea all together."  

"What?" he replies. "You're gonna wanna be chasing a 15 year old at 50? Even if we got together and had a kid within the next year it still doesn't make any sense."

I had her just last month.

I am now livid. I am trying my best to not appear as angry as I am. I'm charming, I'm charming, I'm charming, I keep repeating to myself. It's very difficult, however, to live this mantra  when I think that this is the most insane thing I have ever heard.  

Yep ladies, if you are over 30 you should just pack up your reproductive organs and call it quits. Clearly this man knows everything and according to him we will be too busted in the next 15 years to chase your little ones so just forget having a kid and get a fish instead. 

Yeah, don't even bother.

I have to take a moment. I know I said I may not want to have a family but I have a great disdain for those who tell me how I should live. Between the aggressive questioning, the bizarre situational "what if's" and now the baby bashing talk I've nearly had it. I want this date to be over. 

He is unfazed entirely. He has not registered my demeanor chaninging or perhaps he doesn't even care. I now begin to pull out my phone to look at the time. I rub my eyes and yawn a bit. He orders a 3rd martini. JESUS! I just wanna go!

I tell him that it is a work night, nearly 10pm and I turn into a pumpkin if I am not home by 10:30.  I am trying my best to just get the hell out of this seat. He keeps asking me if we will go out again.(2) He's asking for dates of when I am free and wants to take me to NYC and salsa dancing. Super, great, wonderful. Can the waitress please bring the fucking check! It's the end of the night and I think she can feel me burning holes in the back of her shirt. The waitress comes over and politely drops off the check. 

I offer to pay for my portion of the meal and he says he has it. I offer to leave the tip. He says not to worry about this. I can pay for the trip to NYC. Yeah buddy.  You betcha.

I think I am in the clear because we are now getting up from the table and making progress towards the front door. He walks me out the door and makes me promise for the umpteenth time that I will go on a second date with him. I would have sworn to ANYTHING at that point just to go home. 

He then attempts to kiss me. I give him the cheek.  

This upsets him yet again. 

"I can't get a kiss goodnight?" he asks, shocked. 

There is a better chance of me waking up tomorrow a large, gay, black man. 

I tell him I am old fashioned and besides, I have to give him something to look forward to with the next date. He doesn't let it go and brings up conversations (1) and (2) and then tells me he is holding me to a second date. He wants me to re assure him, yet again that I have had a good time, I like him and we're going on a second date; so I do. I thank him for a lovely night out and head to my car. 

I get home and shortly there after a hailstorm of texts rain down on me.  

For anyone who thinks I am being picky or too cranky, choosy, whatever. Here are the messages received post apocalyptic date:

My reply to this text message massacre was "I am sleeping," which I was.

Later in the day, I sent him a text saying that I had a great date, and thought he was a great guy but I just didn't' think that we were compatible. (Thank you Meaghan S for the suggestion.) I wished him the best of luck in his search to find someone that would be wonderful to him. Warm regards, C

The text I got back asked me what was not compatible about our personalities. He also wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to tell anyone so his reputation would remain intact. I just made like I never saw the message and deleted it. I'll be avoiding Hudson county for some time now.