Monday, July 20, 2009

Fiddler on the Woof

So I know it's been awhile. I had started to date someone for a few months (a few months back) and for the time being have been asked not to write about him. Not by him, mind you, but by my own family. I'll get around to him eventually but for now I'm going to take a dip in the pool of my past.

I met Fiddler through yet another online dating service. I've subscribed to all of them at least once. The free ones just don't do it for me. Something sketchy about them but anyways. Fiddler and I exchanged a bunch of emails. He was tall, looked handsome from his photos, was from the same area I had been born in, like the same sports teams, and was smart. He wasn't the greatest at making me laugh but I thought that maybe electronic correspondence wasn't his forum.

We agree to meet for dinner and then attend a symphony afterward. I was thinking classy. Not so much. I get to the restaurant first and put my name in. It's spring in Ohio. Hello prom season. There are girls in fancy dresses and guys in suits all around me. I'm sitting there and a guy that looks like Fiddler starts walking toward me. Except he is in a tux. Little bow, frilly dress shirt, the whole nine yards. He goes on to explain that the symphony we are going to after dinner, he is playing an instrument in it. You've got to be kidding me! I have to sit and watch this concert by myself? What kind of date is that? Oh yeah. A lame one. Dinner wasn't that bad. It was at one of my favorite eateries. The conversation at dinner? Horrible. He wanted to talk about his project for his higher level of education completion. I consider myself a smart woman. This stuff was just over my head. Not even the smile and nod was working. After trying to explain in little words he finally gave up. I was feeling rather dumb and a little ticked off at this point. Oh well.

The concert was pretty cool. I think I was the only one there sitting by myself though. That made me feel a little lame. It ends and at this point I just want to go home but I am conned into going out for drinks with some of the people Fiddler just played with. I have a beer and head home after saying my goodbyes.

Date two was no better. Why did I go on a second date you ask? Because I can be guilted into doing things by my mother and sister. They are always telling me I don't give enough of a chance. To prove them wrong I do what they ask and always end up getting to do the "I told you so" dance. This was just like the first date. Met Fiddler before, talked for a little, and then I got to watch him play his instrument. (Typing that sounds so dirty.) This time at least I got to see Fiddler on the Roof. The play was good. The pregame and postgame not so much. At this point I can't decide what I want to do. Part of me actually kind of likes Fiddler, he's a decent guy. The other part of me doesn't. He has these little idiosyncrasies that drive me crazy. He rests his hands together on top of his gut like a pregnant lady would. I wanted to ask him when he was due. He had an odd sleeping arrangement with his dog. His dog got the bed. Not sure where Fiddler slept. Didn't really care enough to ask.

I owed it to myself (read: I don't know what I was thinking) to give it one more shot. This time I got to pick the "date". I suggested a picnic lunch in a park with just the two of us. He says that he would love to, if we brought our dogs along. It sounded like a cute idea and I was game. I packed a lunch for both of us and some extra water for the dogs. It started off ok. Well at least until the dogs met. For some reason they didn't get along. What was supposed to be a nice stroll turned into us walking on opposite sides of the path. With lunch and the walk the date lasted all of 90 minutes tops. The goodbye was the worst part. I won't go into major details but let me just say that the little kids in the car next to us got a lesson on the art of kissing that day. I didn't want to kiss him at all. Kissing is very intimate for me. If it's anything more than a peck on the lips (even though I prefer cheeks when it's a strange man kissing me) I better have given you the go ahead to do so. Fiddler sticks his tongue in my mouth and down my throat. I try pushing him away twice but he just grabbed onto me tighter and kept going. Rude. I finally manage to break free and give a little wave goodbye as I get into my car. Needless to say I think he realized that things weren't going to go any further and I didn't hear from him again.

I know I'm hard on men. I'll be the first to admit it. The only reason I am is because I'm looking for the real deal. I don't want to settle for anything less than a weak in the knees kind of love. I know it's out there. I only have to find it. Until I do I'll punish myself by dating and hopefully entertain you with my stories.