currylove

I was chatting with my downstairs neighbor who’s 75 years young. She is so vivacious and awesome. She has adult children, still works a full time job and decided she’s been single for long enough (by choice) that she decided to get on Match.

She had a date with an 80 year old guy. First date went well and they set up their next one. Their second date was near his birthday – she took him a bottle of wine, they sat outside on his deck and watched the sun set on the river ($$$), and they went to one of the best restaurants in town.

I saw her a couple of days after their second date, and she hadn’t heard from him. She texted him “Happy Birthday” and wished him well.  No response. Five days later and she hadn’t heard from.

SHE NEVER HEARD FROM HIM AGAIN!!!! AND… WE CAN’T EVEN JOKE HE DIED. Because you know… he may have (but really, I think he’s just an 80 year old douche).

Anyway, it really does not matter their fucking age.  Assholes are assholes, whether their bodies are amazing or wrinkly. It just never gets better.

 

 

 

 

 

So, clearly my dating/love life journey is going nowhere and I just have to come to terms with that. I may be alone forever. Oh well.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not irritated by other people’s seeming success. I know someone who is lazy and generally useless, and divorced because of those two reasons. From Facebook, it’s clear he’s dating some new girl who must have the hookup because he’s been at sold-out concerts and tennis tournaments.

AND HE IS OVER 40, LIVES WITH HIS FAMILY AND DOESN’T HAVE A JOB… so there’s no way he’s paying for this shit. He can’t be. If I find out he is through his funding mechanism (aka, his Dad), I’ll update this. But for now, I think either she’s paying or she works at a job where she gets free tickets, because they’re always in the VIP areas.

WTF. JUST WTF.

I can’t get a proper dinner. He gets VIP access to Drake? ARGH ARGH ARGH.

 

 

 

So last week, Thursday, I called home and my mom gave me an email address from a matrimonial ad in the paper. It was the usual, “40 year old doctor, innocently divorced, seeking suitable match.”

Mom says:

“Make sure you right today. It’s Thursday – it’s a good day.”

As soon as she said that, all I could think was how does she still believe??? I sent my med school applications on a ‘good day’, I’m not a doctor. I have sent countless emails to these guys on ‘good days,’ I’m not married yet. I’ve done so many things on ‘good days’ and it doesn’t fucking matter one single iota.

But she does believe, and so I emailed this innocent divorcee on a good day, knowing full well I’ll never hear back.

She asked me today if I got an email back and I kind of giggled and said,

“No Mommy. There’s not going to be one.”

And she let out this heavy sigh and goes,

“Why are they so dumb? Why do they put an ad in the paper if they don’t really want to write to anyone? They should AT LEAST write back and say they’re not interested.”

Yes! I agree! Be slightly professional about it! I mean, I seriously doubt this dude is getting so many flipping emails that he can’t keep up. But what I do think is probably happening is that he is getting at least a few responses from women that are 10-15 years younger than me, and that’s probably more appealing than a 38 year old.

Even though I would be a suitable match.

 

 

Today, I got a message on bumble from some white guy who did the usual blah blah blah and then, out of nowhere, says, “I like your color!!”

Ummm thanks?

So I guess the thing is, I’m not surprised – clearly I expect guys who aren’t Indian to self-select in dating someone who isn’t whatever color they are. But I don’t expect it to come out so fetishized.

I didn’t respond right away, so a few hours later I got another message from him that asked, “Was I too eager?”

I finally had a chance to reply and just said that his comment about color threw me, and I’d never had anyone say that to me before ever meeting.  He then goes on to say, “I just like darker girls!”

And then BECAUSE THIS IS ALL I HAVE NOW … I found myself thinking, “Well, at least he’s already attracted to me. Maybe this could be ok.”

Because, though I haven’t blogged about them, I did have a bunch of first dates that were SO BORING. They were all Indian guys, who I’m sure wanted to go out with me because I’m Indian, so how is this any different? Would it be reverse discrimination if I didn’t go out with this White Guy with a Fetish??

I don’t know anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

A couple of weeks ago, I recreated my facebook profile because I needed to get back on Tinder and try Bumble. I’m not meeting anyone in real life, and relying on the Indian dating websites was sucking the life out of me. So, I got back on facebook under the pretense of joining just to keep up with pics of my nieces and nephews (which is partially true, I do love seeing more pics of them now), but really it was so I could get back to dating like a person in 2016.

One of the first guys I chatted with on Tinder caught my attention immediately – intelligent, funny, cute and our texting was actually really witty and smart. I was excited, but trying to not get my hopes up because hello, just read every other post in this damn blog.

We met up on Saturday night, sat down to drinks, and I spent the first 15 minutes trying to figure out if he was really gay.

I have no fucking idea what he talked about for those 15 minutes or how I responded. I just couldn’t get over him possibly being gay.  I mean, cool if he is, but not my thing.

In any case, we drank quite a bit and ended up going to a bar we both like to cap off the night. We were sitting in a pretty well lit area, it was towards the end of the night, there were a lot of people around and all of a sudden, he grabbed my waist and pulled me in and I realized he was going to kiss me and I TURNED MY HEAD SO HE KISSED MY CHEEK INSTEAD.

I felt like a bitch, and he was clearly hurt, but I just…couldn’t.

He asked why I wouldn’t kiss him – I told him it was too early for that (yup. I’m also a liar). But really, I couldn’t get past his voice. And some mannerisms. And my silent questioning of his sexuality.

That ended the night. He walked me out to wait for my Lyft, and I did give him a quick kiss, but it was clearly a pity kiss and he clearly was ready for me to leave.

I texted immediately after I got home to say thanks again and how much fun I had (that was actually true, minus the whole kissing thing), and got no response. I texted Sunday to ask how he liked the movie he saw, and got a quick one sentence text back.

I know and understand that I hurt his feelings, but there was NO warning or even lead up to him trying to kiss me. There was no heavy duty flirting  — we talked politics most of the night. Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump aren’t exactly sexy.

There was no batting my eyelashes on my part, and no longing looks on his. There was no indication that he was going to even try anything. It came out of nowhere, caught me off guard and I rejected him.

And I know you’re thinking he tried to kiss me, so he must be straight… but I’m still not sure.

 

 

 

 

So there was all this flurry of activity of a potential new match: Doctor, divorced, same age as me, etc etc. The usual.

Dad sends me an email telling me to ask around to see if any of my friends know him. Mom calls his mom directly. The conversation they had follows:

My Mom (giving some information): She was born in ’77.

His mom (being a bitch): Oh, we’re looking for someone who’s 30 or 31.

My Mom (being awesome): Ok, good luck. Bye. *CLICK*

MOM HUNG UP ON THIS WOMAN!!! This woman who thinks her doctor son, who has a child, is going to trap some young babe into marrying him. Which, who knows, maybe he will. Who cares? Not me.

Mom then tells me, “Yeah, he plays cricket, which I thought was weird for a boy born here, so I wanted to make sure about some things.” And then she laughs and says, “They’re stupid.”

She totally listened to all the clues and did her research!!! I am so proud!

Meanwhile, any boy’s mom who says “WE” are looking for someone definitely means that I am not the someone who they’re looking for. Single is better than trapped.

 

 

 

And I’ve had ONE FUCKING DATE. ONE.

A DATE.

Jesus Christ I should just buy my 50 cats now and succumb to the inevitable.

“How was the date?” I hear you asking.

I showed up at the chosen location, and there was a bit of a line for the hostess table. I essentially almost ran into him as he was at the end of the line, and when I did realize it was him, I also realized I was LOOKING DOWN AT HIM TO SAY HELLO.

I’m 5’2″ (157.5 cm for my metric readers). I was hearing boots with about a 1 inch heel. That made me a grand total of 5’3″.  And I was looking DOWN at him.

BUT! Even still! We had a decent date! Conversation was good, it was semi-flirty. I mean, I wasn’t gonna sleep with him, but I wasn’t repulsed. That’s a good date these days.

He even gave me a ride home at the end of the night. I texted him to say thanks for dinner/drinks and wished him a fun time at the festival he was going to the next day. I even left an opening: “Tell me how it is!”

He texted back a couple of hours later to say “If you ever want to try that new Indian place, let me know.”

And that was that. Never heard from him again.

cat lady

 

 

 

 

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