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I am an online dater. I can also say that I am also still one of the few optimistic young people who think that their soul-mate is out there, waiting for a message to appear in their inbox. Thus far, my dating adventures have been fairly uneventful. I’ve made friends with most of the men I’ve seen, having connected because of our tastes in movies or music or really good barbeque. The love connection, however, remains elusive. Imagine my delight when I actually met someone who was talkative as I am, enjoys bar hopping without getting wasted drunk, and fully appreciates Disney’s A Nightmare Before Christmas. And he’s straight. I could barely contain myself.

Our first date was great. We decided on a Saturday brunch because both of our schedules were hectic. We hugged when we met (I don’t hug anyone unless I feel they are a long lost love) and continued a level of comfort throughout our brunch. We giggled like school girls, made inside jokes and cursed like sailors. I honestly haven’t had that most fun in years. We parted, vowing to hook up again when our schedules cleared a bit more.

So we texted and sent snarky comments to one another everyday. To me, sarcastic, phone-hating me, this was communication between partners. Finally, this week, we were able to physically occupy the same space at the same time. It had been weeks since our near perfect date, but I was optimistic that it wasn’t a fluke but a real connection. It didn’t start very well as I was fifteen minutes late (and not on purpose…I’m not one of those girls who make people wait for suspense or something ridiculous). We went to one of my favorite barbeque places. I wasn’t nervous but a bit anxious. I always like being anxious on a date, it reminds me that I actually give a damn.

So I finally arrived, not quite Cinderella, and he looked the same and sounded the same. He was attentive (at first) and we were easily seated, which never happens at this place. However, as the night rolled on, I was reminded of why I never really was nuts about dating. All he talked about was his fantasy football league (he doesn’t normally give a fuck about it until he put money down) and a new topic, and my favorite, his maybe girlfriend. I’m not sure why he assumed I was the person to talk to about his other women (we were honest about dating other people but never mentioned anyone by name) but he definitely let loose tonight.

There has to be some etiquette, some rules that everyone who has dated, is dating or just maybe likes someone should have to follow. I know it’s silly, especially after one date, but I was hurt. Why should I have to fake interest in his phantom woman? He tells me all of these horrid things about her but their honest connection makes him want to give her a shot. I praise his ideals but I don’t really want to hear it. Needless to say, it was a short date that mostly just made me depressed.

What’s the point of this post? It’s actually a reminder; it will remind me to not fuck around with people who aren’t entirely serious about anything in particular. But mostly, this is a reminder to tell people who tell me about people that basically will replace me to fuck off. (Pardon the swears but I’ve been watching a lot of British cable).

Oh penguin, you understand me better than I understand myself.

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