It’s Not You, It’s Me. Really.
“Well, I woke up, thought about going to the gym, but was kinda tired, so I just made breakfast. Then I sat at the computer and did some stuff and took a nap. I woke up, thought about going to the gym again, but just took a walk. Then I came home and watched some TV. What’d you do today?”
Who knew a surfer could be so dull? I thought they were fraught with excitement and muscles (well, they do have muscles – note: obsession with the gym). Was I wrong to be bored with this conversation? Life isn’t always a thrill. Even at an amusement park you have to drive to the lot, walk to the gate, wait to get in, walk to the ride, wait in line (a long long time), and then do it all again for another 60 second thrill.
So I wait, and I date, and I wait…for the thrill. But it never seems to come.
A new one came, in the form or a very cute Auzzie. The accent from down-under, swath of carefree sandy hair and lack of ties to the entertainment industry were merely perks to his sweet disposition, nice bod and his lively interest in me. He took me out, and proceeded to bore me to tears. He had nothing to say and nothing to ask. Now, I know I can be a bit intimidating (with my anger issues and amazing legs), so I give allowances to bad first dates. We went out again, then back to my place. And maybe a minute into our bland first kiss, I drifted into sleep on his shoulder. And that aforementioned sweet disposition of his allowed me to sleep – apparently a good 20 minutes. I woke baffled and embarrassed. And realized although I was done seeing him socially, I knew who to call when I was battling insomnia.
Two dates and not even a 30 second thrill between them. My heart should flutter, not sink, when a guy I’m dating calls. I’ve always ended it politely, “Gee, you’re great, and really, it’s not you, it’s me.” Secretly knowing the truth: DUH! It is him, not me! But dull dates kept drifting through my life like lifeless, useless tumbleweeds. And their dust seemed to settle around my feet. And date after date I began to wonder, gee…is it me?
For curiosities sake only slightly more than for desperation, I attended a free Speed Dating event hosted by none other than Whole Foods. Apparently Wal-Mart had been doing “Tie a red ribbon on your cart Friday nights if you’re single” and Whole Foods wanted to get in the market. I thought, at least these singles would have an interest in health and an income (Whole Foods ain’t cheap).
Anyway, I gave it a shot. I met 20 guys in 60 minutes.
There was “man who messed up rotation”: he started with me, came back 5 people later, and tried to end with me. When it came his 3rd time to be seated with me, my dismissive eyes scared him away for 15 seconds, until he popped up behind the wall, outside of the event, by my head to again attempt an awkward and invasive conversation.
There was “man who wore a magnet around his neck to ward off evil spirits”: It was given to him as a gift from a friend who was abducted from an alien space ship, so logically it warded off evil spirits. Seemed to be working for him – I was warded off, big time.
There was “younger guy who tried to be edgy by confessing he attempted suicide regularly”, also: “my girlfriend just died,” “I’ve been living on the streets since I was 12,” “I sell drugs. Wanna buy some?”
There was “tech guy who was too scared to talk,” “man who was too big to fit down the isle,” “eager guy with a list of routine, boring questions,” “the copious note-taker” and or course “Mr. Marketing his business at a social event.” It was a regular romper room of losers.
And I came to the conclusion: It ISN’T them, it IS me. They are who they are, and some woman somewhere will find their quirks charming and livable. And although strange, I was never bored; I found great amusement in this park of weary wonderers.
The lesson in this: we have a choice – wait an hour for a minute of a thrill, or find the thrill within the hour, within each minute, within each moment. Somebody once said “only boring people get bored.” So while I wait for my big thrill to come, I’ll enjoy the drive to the lot, the walk to the gate, the wait to get in, the walk to the ride, the wait in line (the long long time), and even if my big 60 second thrill never comes, I’ll have enjoyed the ride.
And to all those guys I said “it isn’t you, it’s me” too – I guess I wasn’t lying…
