I went on a coffee “date” recently with a guy who’s 45. I figured cool, someone not young and immature, and likely wants to to date and take time to get to know someone in a real way. Younger guys are without a doubt “in it to hit it.” And I’m not into that. So we had coffee for an hour at a local place and well, as he said, he took the oxygen out of the place because he talked the whole time. He asked one question about me, what I do, and the rest was about him.
I read somewhere, I think Psychology Today, that if a man spends more time talking about himself on a date then he does asking questions about you and letting you do most of the talking it means he isn’t all that into you.
That piece of info has stuck with me and I’m not certain it is overly accurate. Unless no guy I have ever been on a date with has ever been interested in me, because seriously they all talk about themselves pretty much exclusively and fail to ask about me.
My ex-husband did all the talking on our first date and we went the distance for a while, so this “he’s not into you” theory if he doesn’t ask about you is something I’m still exploring.
Okay back to my date. At the 55 minute mark he says, “Well, it was really nice meeting you, but I do have to go because I have some groceries in the car that I need to get home.”
Fuck. How lame is that? That’s when I knew I’d never hear from this guy again and he was making his polite exit. So I said sure, and we walked out. He says, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m parked right here and yeah I gotta get going.”
Who says chivalry is dead? Sweet jesus.
So I wrote him off as I walked to my car feeling sad because it seems finding someone to connect with is going to take a lot of work and effort. Maybe I never will. This is the point in the chick lit/flick where our sweet heroine realizes she may be alone longer than she thought and decides it’s fine and who needs a man anyway. Bring out the Jameson and chips!
So I get home and check the site just to see if he did message and lo and behold he did. “It was great meeting you tonight. Thanks for coming out. How do you feel about casual sex?”
And there it was: I’m not good enough or interesting enough to maybe get to know as a person, but would I mind if he borrowed my vagina every so often? Fucking hell. I just find this so insulting. I am more than a vessel for you to shove your dick in, asshole. Casual sex is basically saying exactly that: forget you as a person and just give me your holes for my pleasure. I’m insulted. I haven’t replied.
Casual sex is so easy and lame and impersonal. And cliche. But here’s the dilemma: I know that men look for sex and find love. I’ve seen it happen with other men who wanted to just fuck me, they said they weren’t looking for a relationship, I said no thanks, then months later they are in a relationship. WTF? Look for sex, find love.
As I said in my book, that leaves women with one option: lay the welcome mat out at our vaginas and hope that one of these flings turns into something more. When I realized this over a year ago now I decided it wasn’t for me and I wouldn’t play this stupid game. If a man can’t be cognizant enough to know what he wants and just falls into vaginas and then relationships, then he’s not for me.
Dating today is sad as are the men playing in this field. But women fuck easily so men know they can get laid fast, quick, and any time without having any strings, even the string of simply getting to know another human being on a real level.
Flirting With Perception 