Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Knight

As I have been doing this blog I found that the dates are getting more and more interesting. I don't know why that is, but the more mild mannered ones were definitely in the beginning of this endeavor. I have been writing of them out of sequence for both anonymity for the Knights and also so all the doozies aren't grouped together!  At this point of the blog I have been on 11 of them I am finding out a few things. Many of these things came to light after going on a date with this Knight.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Knight came to me through the dating site.  He had reached out to me and it took me nearly a week to get back to him. He seemed kind looking in his pictures. Bright blue eyes, tallish, sparkling smile, he looked fit and had friends in his pictures; always a good sign.  His profile said he was in finance, spontaneous, laid back, and a bit sarcastic.

I have to look and see if those qualities are on the sample profile page because I see those specific traits appear over and over on the this dating site where these guys describe themselves. Back to our Knight. . .

This man had messaged me to tell me he came across my profile and we seemed to have a lot in common. 

Always a plus.

He asked if I would like to meet up with him sometime. He was living in my home town. I was worried he was someone I knew, who knew about the blog, and was just messing with me. As to not prolong the tomfoolery, I decided I would send along my phone number and ask him to text me. This way, we could speed up the meet up, and if I was getting the wool pulled over my eyes by some funny friend, I'd find out who it was sooner rather than later.  

Sidebar:  The back and forth after the initial hello is always the largest investment of time I am finding.  This period of qualifying can take up to a few weeks and well, I don't want be doing this into 2020.  

He began our texting adventure with me one evening by asking if I want to grab a drink. I happened to be home that night after work and figured sure; I can muster some energy to see who this mystery man is. After a chain of texts as to where to meet, he decided to back out because he had to get up early for work. I said, "No worries" and was happy to stay in my sweats and no make up. The following night brings the same text.  "Do you want to go for a drink," he texts. I text that it's late this time and I am watching American Horror Story and he sends back a text asking if I want company.  Hmmm.

I send him back, "I'm sorry.  I don't invite strange men to my home." 

He replies, "I respect that, but I am always a gentleman." 

I come back with, "I am sure you are, but that remains to be seen." 

I find it odd that a man would want to come by so late at night and I am kind of put off because it feels creepy.   I decide in order to further see if this guy is someone looking to meet someone to date, or if he is just DTF I will ask some qualifying questions. I definitely don't want to waste my time with some guy who is just looking to hook up with randoms; me included.   

"Are you looking for a dating situation or are you just looking to meet people?" I text.  I figure that is a nice way of saying what is going through my mind. He says he is looking to build a friendship, and see where it goes. OK, cool; but you're still not coming to my home in the middle of the night.  We agree via text to meet the following day for lunch before I have to go to work. You wanna be creepy with me, you get daylight.

He prefaces confirming the date with that he has  a one year old's birthday to get to at 2:30pm that afternoon. I do a pre-emptive "I have to work at 3" whether or not I do. I'm finding that not only in business, but in life in general, you should ALWAYS have an exit strategy. We agree we should have a hard stop at 2pm to make it where we have to go.

We agree to meet at Urban Table, since I hear that they have brunch and I am always down for a good brunch I don't have to cook. 

We are due to meet at 12:30pm but we are both running late. By quarter to one I am parking and I arrive to find him waiting in the doorway. He's definitely a real man and not my friend pranking me. Oh well. He is just about my height in heels which makes him shorter in person than his online height.

I am getting good at figuring this out as time goes by and also finding that people LIE LIKE DOGS about their height. 

He is dressed in a wool over coat, a button-up collared shirt and black leather shoes.  His hair is shaved tightly to his head and I can't figure out if his pretty blue eyes are sparkly or are what we like to call crazy eyes.  The sort that have that "I have heads in my fridge" look to them.  I wonder if they are going to start rolling all over the place like on of my last dates.  I guess we will find out soon enough!

He looks wildly uncomfortable standing there waiting for me.  As I walk towards him he realizes that I am the PoF prize for waiting in the breezeway of the restaurant. He walks towards me,  hugs me and kisses me on the cheek hello and ushers me out the doorway onto the sidewalk. 

Odd. . I thought we were eating inside. It's cold. We are now standing outside and I am confused.  Was there a problem with the restaurant? Did he have a family emergency and is canceling?  Why am I not moving towards having brunch?

He explains to me that there is going to be a 15 minute wait and we should go somewhere else.  OK. He's being decisive. Great. 

"So where are we going?" I ask. 

He replies, "What do you think?" 

Ah, shit. 

Now I'm stuck planning this endeavor and my brain is still stuck on brunch. OK Manzella, switch gears. You're not getting brunch. Suck it up and pick a place because your ass is freezing. 

It now begins to snow. Yes. Snow. That mythic weather element that we have not hardly seen in 2012 in my parts of New Jersey.  And today, because I have to walk to who-knows-where for Plan B lunch, it will choose to precipitate. Awesome.

I quickly choose the safe zone. "The Hopper?" I reply.

 "Eh," he sighs.

He's so soft spoken I can hardly hear him. He's looking stressed now that we are not coming up with a place. I'm scrambling. I think to myself, "If I work tonight and only have time for one reasonable meal today where I can sit and eat it while it is hot, what the hell do I want." 

Eureka. 

A burger. (Sorry my vego friends. Sadly, given no decision making time, limited resources and what might be the only comfort to my lunch, I chose burger.) 

I suggest that we walk to the Dublin Pub for a good burger. He agrees it's a good choice and we begin our walk. On our way we spoke about the traffic and parking, if we go out in Morristown often, and what we are up to later in the day .  

When we sit down he orders an iced tea and I have a club soda while we are reading the menu.  I ask about his work and the daily commute, how he likes being a homeowner and other small talk. He talks at length about each of the questions I ask. He is soooooooooooo soft-spoken. I wonder if this lovely man has ever raised his voice a day in his life.

He seems very reserved. Very very reserved. There has been no profanity, no reference to any wild weekends and a lot of talk of work and his home. This is sweet, but I start to worry.
I drop the f bomb more often than most people blink. I'm afraid I may frighten him if I do this. I've noticed that I have lowered my tone and I am now sort of whispering too when I talk to him. Weird. The waitress comes over and we each order burgers and Dt. Cokes. 

He asks about my job, what I do in my spare time, and of my recent travels to Ireland and Vegas. He listens to me intently as I share about my exploits. I thought I would like this quality in a date but I notice when I talk he stares at me in a way it just makes me feel uncomfortable. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's that icky feeling you have when someone you don't care to have staring at you is watching you.  

Maybe I was boring the crap out of him and he had zoned out. Who knows? I just had this "Wow. This is sort of creepy" feeling every time it seemed he was "focusing" on what I was saying. I felt he was nearly piercing me with his stare! 

As the conversation went on I realized a few things. We share that we are Italian, have both visited Vegas and like red wine. But, that's kind of it. The further we talked I just felt like we were so different in what our interests were, how could this go anywhere. He liked to stay home and focus on work. I like to focus on working on traveling. He was a sweet man but we were like apples and orangataungs.  I'm looking for peas and carrots. 

Well que sera. We had a lovely burger, a nice chat and maybe we can stay in the friend zone. I look at my phone and realize that for us to be at our intended locations we will need to get the check and leave.  I ask the waitress for the check and pull out money to pay for my food and drinks. He offers to pick up the check and I thank him. It was very gracious and I thought it was a very pleasant lunch getting to know him. I thought that perhaps at this point he felt the same. We will never know.

In the last few moments before the waitress brought the check I looked out the window and looked up at the snow. I thought to myself, "it's all just so beautiful."I turned to him and very nonchalantly mentioned how "crazy is this global warming thing." I think he stopped dead with what he was doing and said something to the extent of "you don't believe that crap do you?" 

I was startled. He sounded sour and biting. His inflection had changed. It nearly sounded like he had another tone of voice when he said it.  I thought for a moment, perhaps, someone had walked by the table and just blurted out the prior statement.  This couldn't be the same quiet, mild mannered man I had sat across from all this time? 

I was wrong. It WAS him.  He was shaking his head and had a look of disgust on his face. 

"Oh, dear, no!" I thought to myself.  

Whether you believe in global warming or or not I don't care. I can agree to disagree. It's one of my strong suits. I happen to believe in global warming, the Mayan end of the calendar next week and marriage should be renewed every 7 years like a lease -  if there is no apocalypse on the 21st. I digress.  

I wasn't unhappy the he didn't believe in global warming.  I was unhappy with the way that he belittled an opposing point of view and was so dismissive. Generally, I would have spoken up for the what I believed in and called him out on dismissing someone's dissenting view. Strangely, I refrained.  I think it's because I am learning from this dating experiment when to say when. I just sat there and smiled and nodded politely.  

To fill the dead air that was slowly but surely filling our booth I mentioned something about "well at least we are going in the right direction with solar power." 

He scoffs at my comment. 

He tells me that it would take so much to convert all of our devices and machinery that we would require converted to get solar to work, it would be impossible. He believes in the "digging" for natural gas as he calls it.  I've heard of this fracking, as it is called, and I am not a fan of this. Again. It's like someone is testing me to see if I will go all hippie on him. I sit quietly, smile and nod.  As we get up to put our coats on, he continues on with the conversation. He tells me that if Obama hadn't spent all the money on "stupid social programs" there would be more money for pursuing natural gas in Alaska and other places. 

The little voice inside of me is now SCREAMING. He has just hit me with the trifecta.  Insult my political views, bash nature and belittle opposing views. I still don't say a word.  At this very moment I realize the thing that is magic about this whole episode is one thing: I have figured out the hustle.

I don't have to call him, text him or see him ever again if I don't want to. Awesome. 

That soothes the inner voice that is now hoarse from the epic scream. No need to engage him. Just say goodbye.  We depart the restaurant talking about our upcoming week. I have remained cool as a cucumber throughout the talk and walk. He has no idea that he has taken my inner values tree and shaken it to the very core. I am Chris' Zen Penguin Power-animal. I can weather any date now. Slide.

I wish him well with his afternoon birthday party. I depart across the street waving goodbye as my inner Zen Penguin flips him the bird. 

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.