Superman

I decided after a bit of confusion and lack of focus that this would be my last entry in the2008 Dating Experiment. I had at least one moe, but recently realized that living in the past is really jacking up my ability to live in the moment. I promised you all a few of these memories and this is my most memorable disaster in my 2008 Dating experiment. Chronologically, the Cougar Town guy was the LAST disaster before reuniting with my now-husband Jeff. I will divulge the short and bittersweet tale of this not-so-superhero. I will just call him Superman, as really, he would be so proud.

So, this was a choice meeting. We met through photos and profiles (and I won't even divulge the site or his screen name, but think of key words like SUPERMAN). Anyway, we talked on the phone a few times, but both of us, equally tired by the same mode of dating, agreed to just meet. He knew I did not drink so he was wise to not suggest a bar, but he did suggest dinner downtown. I dressed nicely and so did he. Based on first impressions, he scored big. He had class, charisma, and a really good sense of humor. He wasn't even hard to look at. I have to say that things went quite well that night. We had a long date, but all in public and quite G rated (are you allowed to kiss in G movies? I know cartoon characters can...or is that when they are married?). So maybe PG.

He walked me to my car and I only heard one mention of Superman; he was wearing a Superman watch. I think he had a belt, but don't quote me on that because I am not 100% certain. So after this date, he surprised me a few days later with a visit to my house and picked me up to go bowling. We had a lot of fun, though I think I had only bowled once before with absolutely no beer involved. This was a novel date for me (though I am sure this is a fairly cliched date for many). He invited me that weekend for a pre-season Broncos game and I think this was going to be my first sleep over date. I had not yet seen his house. I had heard about it, but again, I took a separate car and brought my dog (he was cool with my dog Max) over. Now, like I said, I am not certain about the Superman belt buckle. As I toured his house, I saw the Superman towels, Superman quilt/blanket, and I was reminded of the Superman watch, which I told him "I remember our first date", though I have seen that watch on the subsequent dates. I get it. He LOVES Superman. What I did not prepare for, what I could have not expected, when I decided to date someone my own age (being 39 and all) were the contents of his closet. He opened the door. He showed me his outfit.

Yes. He had a SUPERMAN cape and outfit with a big S on it. I am not joking. I can not make this shit up. I swear to God, at this moment in time, I wished that I had taken a picture with my cell phone. After I spent the night, he left for California early in the morning. I knew that was the plan. Accidentally (and definitely not in the insecure chick way), I left my contacts, my socks and my favorite pink J.Crew hoodie. That was definitely an accident. I loved that hoodie. If I was leaving stuff in the insecure manner, I would have intentionally "forgotten" something far less significant to me. Don't ask how I know this. After spending time with Superman, he did divulge his Kryptonite. He over -shared. I knew a little bit of what could bring him to his knees. It just never got that far. He called me when he came back.

I saw him Monday evening, though now 2 weeks after our very first conversation and a week or two after our first date, he was very late and promised that he would take me out for a proper date and spend more time later that week; he just had a deadline that was very pressing. Hmmmm. I did actually believe this at first as he really gave me no reason to doubt him. Other than a few rocks of Kryptonite lying around. He promised a date for Wednesday and indeed, followed that up with a few phone calls on Wednesday delaying the time. Becsause he told me he would pick me up at my house, I was not fully inconvenienced, other than the obscene lack of respect and consideration for my time! He called twice; ultimately, he called at 6:30 or so promising he'd see me in an hour and would call on his way.

That 6:30 phone call would be the last time I would ever hear from Superman. I never heard another word, another text message, no email, no correspondence from our origin of meeting. NOTHING. That night I called him. Many times. At first, I was angry. He was late and inconsiderate. After a few hours (around 9 p.m.), I was actually worried. Can you imagine? I was actually concerned that he would be in a car accident, preventing his ability and dedication to keeping our date and calling me with the news of crashing his car. If he was really Superman, his omnipotence would have gotten him to my place at 6:35 after he popped in at the closest phone booth. What gives? So, after the evening passed, I did not really know how to feel. I went to bed. Then I knew. Very early the next day.

I called my best friend and we engaged in some very irresponsible stalking in the next several days, which led inevitably to the next week;there was a road trip to his neighborhood and a brief evening waiting for him at his favorite bar (after we hung out at a country western place, but you know how compromise is!). There were guesses in how long it would take before he would come to his senses, before I would at least get my crap back. Then, one day, it occurred to me (when I was being all spiritual and stuff), "LETITGO". Letitgo.Letitgo. And that's how I let go of Superman, my contacts, my hoodie and the memories of picking up some one's Krytponite (maybe he didn't want me to see it so early on, hmmm?).

So that's the last little tidbit of my 2008 dating experiment. I wanted to share the last little tale, but I actually run into this person once in a while when I am back in Colorado. Even the title of the tale that's in my head would elicit an enormous amends. I really can't live that way anymore. I don't have the time.

Last Supper in Cougar Town

So, I would never go to the Stampede alone in my former party days. Someone always dragged me there who fared better with Western Two-step than I ever did. In the days of pre-2003, it was always about the party; in 2008, I had no idea what it was about. So, Sarah got my 39 year-old body there there this time and we got there somewhat early I believe (we were not major night owls with our respective work schedules). Other than chatting with Sarah (who had gone off somewhere temporarily, dancing probably), I was people watching. Watching drunk people is not as entertaining when you are not drunk yourself. I was actually pretty bored and out of sheer boredom and a splash of regret, I started talking to some tall person next to me. I met C.as a result of my infinite wisdom of talking to strange men. Some habits die hard, I tell you. And this strange man, my friends, was very much a boy, as it turned out.

After chatting outside (I really needed fresh air at that moment, if not sooner) and smoking way too many cigarettes(I know that concept of fresh air and getting a smoke was too logical for anyone to follow), I thought this boy was quite the grown up. Here I was, 39 years old and all; I should definitely know who all you are, wise men of the world. Wait, oxymoron, I know....anyway... So, this guy C. tells me he is twenty-something, and as bored as I was, my head was taking a very vivid time-capsule trip back to Sex and the City's episode of "Valley of the Twenty-somethings". This is my version.

He divulged information appropriate for an attractive pedigree. Things like college degree, new truck, CPA, employed in his field as a CPA (equally impressive as holding the CPA title), dog owner. Pretty cool for a twenty-something. I definitely didn't have all that going on at that young an age. I, for exactly 5-10 days (maximum), thought that was very admirable. So he asked for my number so he could pick me up the next day for a sushi dinner. He arrived that next day in same said truck, dressed in nice clean clothes, looking nice even though he drove to my condo directly from work; he drove me to Hapa Sushi in Cherry
Creek. We had a great time and for a few more days, things went along a very trendy dating pattern. I was fairly satisfied. I ended up at his place one night after watching movies way late (Lidiya was watching Max; I could never forget Max), and I saw that the dog was still outside and honestly, in the late hours that were were out, I totally forgot he had a dog and it was very cold. I made the mistake of warning him about keeping the dog outside with the really cold weather. The dog owner piece of the pedigree was suddenly questionable; he quickly brought the dog in, objecting to my admonishments. Jesus, the dog had some mighty frosty fur. I left early in the morning to get back to my dog whom (or is a dog just property in which case I would us "which") suddenly missed greatly and subsequently, I submitted to pangs of guilt over leaving him with Lidiya (though she took great care of Max). I should have been home and not over there helping to thaw out his pup.

A few days later, we went to the movies and he paid, which was nice. While waiting for the movie to start, I found out that this guy and I did NOT see eye to eye on pretty much any political scenario (Steve C, I am sure you guys would have hit it off and I am so glad I never dated you Steve!). He made a comment about Walmart's employees being so lucky to have jobs with Walmart. Back then, when I had a political boycott against that place due to some Frontline (or some such show) expose, I couldn't contain myself. I just couldn't-it was off to the races. We debated on all things Walmart, employee benefits, employee vacation allotments, pay wages, etc. I was livid. I didn't think C. was really going to make it in Cougar Town much longer. I stayed for the movie and even sat next to C.the whole time, which was pretty big of me, seeing as his Walmart politics were definitely not jiving with mine. So after 2 hours in the dark with C and watching the movie, I wasn't impressed with either. The best thing about being in that movie theater was the popcorn and my cherry icee.

My last date with C. was about 1-2 weeks in and I was to arrive at his house for dinner. I arrived there and what was waiting for me, quite frankly, disgusted me. He was getting ready to put some sausage in a pot of boiling water to boil...with uncooked pasta. The idea of pasta getting all soft and boiling in a pot of water and cased sausage made me want to hurl, almost immediately. Before he made the pasta (and sausage), I asked him if there was anything else that perhaps we could, because I didn't want to stomach the sausage (I was trying to be nice because sausage does give me some excessive gastric issues), but it soon came out that I thought the idea of boiling the pasta and cased sausage(or any kind of sausage would have yielded the same verdict from moi) was hideous and un-chef like. He said "then I guess you won't be eating anything because you should like what ever I make for you". Excellent. "Go look in the cabinet and see if there are any vegetables you want". Wait, aren't vegetables usually in the produce section of your fridge, C? Nope. Apparently they are stacked in cans of salty fluid in the pantry. Canned asparagus?yummy. I am in for a treat. Not. I asked if we could both go to the grocery together and make dinner together. I passionately tried to plea vigorously for this option so that we could try to enjoy the night and simultaneously not sounding so fussy (though I really think I could make a case for not boiling together the pasta and sausage). Wow, what a mature compromise...so very cool. No, not according to C., who consequently called me ungrateful and other equally savory names. Exciting!! And look how much I missed the drama. Ummm, notsomuch. I just lost my patience with the man-child at that precise moment I saw canned asparagus and he declined to opt for fresh veggies. Immediately, I wanted to leave and grab food with Lidiya (I texted her, telling her I would be home very soon to eat dinner and she was all good with that). I told him something NOT quite this polite: "maybe, this is a dinner better left uneaten;I think I just better leave period.". I left and called Lidiya before my car was even warmed up.
That was the last straw, and indeed, the Last Supper was much better left uneaten.

the 2008 Dating Experiment: the Russian

I honestly can not remember the general order in which some of these memorable men came in to my life, albeit so briefly. The fact that I still remember them is a dubious honor for them, since the stories don't represent them fondly. I can't resist; I have to tell you just a few little experiments that happened as a result of Match.com and eharmony.com. As to not slander or libel (I really don't have time for lawerly like people), I am going to stay shush about who is who. I actually met only two out of four of these people through those sites and one from a bar late at night when I was tired and bored; the remaining guy (yes, yes...I am going to have to keep you all guessing) was a mutual aquaintance. I may throw in another one or two from the year if they come up. Seriously, it does not really matter, does it? I am glad I can laugh about it now. At the time, I knew that I seriously had a defective frog issue. There was not a single frog I kissed that didn't just belch in my face, basically saying "can you still not tell in your late 30's who is who? You still are kissing the toads and not even an eligible frog!!". I could have sworn that, until December 5, 2008, the entiretry of 2008 was a colossal dating nightmare. Maybe thats why one of my wedding songs was Peter Gabriel's Kiss that Frog. But I digress.

So, down Memory Lane, I finally met a guy who was not huge or drunk sounding on the phone and he was decent looking and was not trying to pose for the profile pictures. ...So you are probably thinking this was a dating site. You are probably right. He was the Russian. He had a baseball hat on and a teeshirt in his picture; he wasn't smiling, but looked pleasant enough anyway. This whole bit of baseball hat and lack of teeth (I know I am not buying a horse, but still) should have been a red flag. But no, I gave him a chance; my 2003 dating year was the year for slumming it, 2008 was going to be much better. So he finally called as I felt okay giving my phone number out with a sufficient number of email exchanges.

We met at a coffee shop nearby and I had plans to hang out with my friend Steve later on and I told Steve "please please call me when you are near by as I may need to leave this date". I get there and see a guy that's just a few sizes larger than previously represented, but not huge (this reminds me of a poor case of a 2006 date that was obsessed about BMI since he was skinny in so many areas except his stomach and was looking for an overall percentage). The Russian was carrying a caramel macchiato type drink (very large) to the table. Then he smiled. Then I didn't (smile) so much. His teeth were horrid. They were grey. They were uneven. Some were missing. Please, can I get a break this year? Please? Yes? NO! The answer is a resounding NO as evidenced by the subsequent dates of 2008. ANYWAY, not only were his teeth damaged, but he has literally admitted that he does not care about fixing his teeth as he loves his sweet drinks and the diabetes doesn't help, so why fix it? WHY FIX IT? Hello?? So, his obesity and teeth have now been explained by things other than, but not excluding , caramel macchiatos. So as I completed the initial physical assessment, he provided me with his very own in-depth psychoanalysis. He told me about his ex who took a few of their chidren "somewhere". Something happened to the children when he and the ex went to jail and did some drugs. I was fuzzy on the details while his Russian accent was yammering on. Please say these children were safe somewhere. I did not dare ask. I was really starting to lose patience until he exposed his arms. Then I lost the rest of my patience. Right there. On the spot. So, you ask, did he have tattoos all over his arms? No. not really. As I have tattoos, that would not have really bothered me, other than the objectionable nature of such tattoos. But, he revealed no tattoos at all; the Russian displayed an unhealthy quantity of hash marks all over his arms. Yes, arms is plural; he told me the winter before (approximately 9 months maximum), he attempted suicide. "I am taking Prozac and I am all better". Yes, did you hear that? All better. Ithinknot. He proceeded to tell me how it was everyone else's fault as to how he got this way ("I had to quit drinking and quit the crack," said the Russsian.). Jesus. I would say honestly, when I thought I could not take it any longer, Steve called. Saved by the bell, literally. I thanked the Russian for his time. "So do you want me to call you tonight when you get home?"NO, really, that won't be necessary.

A little trip down memory lane...circa 2008

So, after watching Sex and the City 2 Friday night as I promised I would, I started to take a detour down memory lane as I was chatting with a friend at Cherry Creek Mall. We both reminisced my dating blunders and I told her that while I was thinking how funny and dramatically pathetic my latter single-hood was, I was a feeling not so right in sharing these stories now in this forum. Because, after all, I am married, happily! We had a little discussion, oh, for about 1 minute, and concluded that because it was inspired by SATC, and I was mostly single when I was watching SATC (except for this last movie), it would be okay for me to take a supervised detour down that road. For a very limited time. And because a few friends (married before me) always had the joy of vicariously enjoying my exploits (regardless of my temporal pleasure). Now, I can laugh about it and hopefully, my husband has a sense of humor.

So, I bring to you Memory Lane's newest and most recent addition before being shut down, the year 2008. 2008 included the Sausage Guy (seriously, this pertains to food, really!!!), Superman, and the Russian (and believe me, this Russian is no where as enticing as Carrie's Russian). There are a few others. I am going to enjoy the holiday tomorrow and I have some plans as long as Lidiya does not have her baby tomorrow. Look forward to a walk down memory lane this week! Bring a Diet Pepsi and a cupcake to the computer and have a few short reads!