The Dating Equivalent of the Runaway Bride - Revised 1/07

In this world, there are two types of people. There are relationship people and there are daters.

If relationships were like ordering ice cream, relationship people would be the one's who look inside of the glass enclosed freezer, point at the treat that looks like it would taste the best and then order two scoops in a waffle cone. Daters are the one's who stand in front of the case in near-agony trying to decide if it's worth it to get just caramel when you could get something that has not only caramel, but almonds too. Daters irreverently use the freakishly tiny plastic sampling spoons to test the goods, eliminating each flavor one by one, until the best flavor emerges.

In the ice cream parlor that is my life, there are dozens of tiny used spoons and I have yet to find a flavor worth ordering.
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I have went on too many dates to count, so as any good wanna-be journalist would do, I've kept a dating diary. I cannot guarantee that every single person has made it in, but I've done my best to document my relational failures and all of the hilarious details that have come along with them.

Here are a few of the highlights, or lowlights - depending how you look at it - beginning in my junior year of high school:

B.W. (Jr. Year Prom Date) - in an ass backwards series of events, I managed to secure my prom date before I had actually ever went on a date with him. In an attempt to remedy the situation, we went out to dinner and a movie weeks before prom - you know, on a "real"date. After the date, he took me home and as we sat in my driveway, I turned into a babbling jackass.

The conversation unfolded like this:

Me: So, I had a good time
Him: Me too
-insert mildly awkward silence -
Me: Well, since this is our first date, we should probably kiss or something
Him: (sounds of crickets chirping)

I leaned in for a kiss and he backed up. I didn't pick up on the hint and laid one on him anyway. Prom was pretty uncomfortable and he didn't talk very much. His friends also seemed a little weird --I found out later that he'd told them what happened and they had all laughed at me.

The Chef (Early college) - My sister set me up with a random friend that she had made while she was at work. After insisting that he was a "good guy" we went out on a date on Thanksgiving Day. We watched a movie (Love Actually) and mid-way through I knew I didn't like him. We (Crissy and I) later found out that he was a raging alcoholic and ended up checking himself into rehab shortly after our date.

Hockey Boy (Late College) - In one of my marketing classes I met a very cute and mildly charming guy who looked like he'd fallen out of the pages of an Abercrombie ad and into the seat right in front of me. Despite this, (I have strict rules against dating guys who are prettier than me) we struck up a friendship. We began going grocery shopping together every now and then and even having dinner from time to time. During one of these said dinners, we were sitting on the couch, watching TV and preceded to embark on a makeout session. Afterwards -because we weren't really dating - we had a conversation about the events that had just taken place. I can't remember the conversation verbatim, but I believe it went something like this:

Me: Well, that was uncharacteristic of me
Him: Yes, why did you kiss me?
Me: I didn't kiss you, you kissed me
Him: Whatever. Things aren't going to be weird now, are they?
Me: No, they shouldn't be
-pregnant pause-
Me: I don't know why that just happened
Him: Me neither. I mean I like hanging out with you and stuff, but I don't really want to date you or anything
Me: Oh my gosh, me neither. Well, that's a relief
Him: You're a good kisser though
Me: Yeah, you too
-he left-

I graduated shortly after that and haven't seen or spoke with him since.

Karate Kid (Late College) - We met while I was working at WEEK-TV and assisting on a video shoot (you guessed it; an instructional video for karate). He had a great nose and salt and pepper hair despite only being in his mid-twenties. We went out a couple of times and on the second date we saw Million Dollar Baby. I cried during the movie, got embarrassed and didn't wait around for a kiss at the end of the date. It must have freaked him out, because I never heard from him again.

The Pilot (post-college) -I began chatting with a guy on Facebook who was a pilot and we set up a date without having seen each other in real life (or IRL for you IM geeks). Big mistake. He was about a foot shorter than me and still lived with his parents. We cut our losses and never spoke to one another again. (Yes, I'm mildly ashamed of having met someone on Facebook, but I don't consider it online dating, so neither should you)

Ironman (post-college) - After going on a few dates with this triathlete guy, things were going well. He was on his way to date number four when disaster struck. After pecking me at the end of our third date (while I was snacking on a treat, mind you), he left my apartment and was going to be leaving for a ski trip before I would see him again.

After he left, I was dishing about him with Melissa and my cell rang. It was him. I didn't answer it because I had just seen him and wondered what the hell he'd want to talk to me about so soon after leaving. He didn't leave a message and preceded to immediately call back. Melissa insisted that I answer it.

Our conversation went something like this:

Him: Hi Lorie, its . I'm outside of your apartment, can you come down here?
Me: Umm, OK.
-hang up-
Melissa: What did he want?
Me: WTF, Melissa, he's downstairs!
Melissa: Did he get a flat tire or something?
Me: Hell, I don't know, he just asked me to go downstairs
-I walked downstairs, opened the door and stepped outside-
Him: I got all the way home and had to turn around.
Me: Is something wrong?
Him: No, I just couldn't stand the thought of you thinking that the kiss that I gave you upstairs was the best that I could do.
-He leaned in and preceded to attempt a make-out session on my front porch - practically pinning me against the wall-
Me: (visibly uncomfortable) Um, my roommate' mom is in town and she's going to be coming back any minute. I'd rather her not see me making out with someone.
Him: Oh, well, I just had to come back
Me: (uncomfortable and wanting to rid myself of the situation) Well, that was a brave and very movie-esque thing to do. Have a good trip.

Apparently my eagerness to get out of this situation was not a clear signal, because he left me a few voicemails while he was on his trip (which I didn't return) and then finally emailed me to see what was up. I made a classy move and broke up with him via email, citing his actions as being "adorable, if I had felt the same way, But I didn't, so you freaked me out." I have not seen or heard from him since.

Slobber Boy (post-college) - A kiss was not just a kiss with SB. An otherwise attractive male with a good career path and decent manners, SB had a solid shot of being a good date. That is, until the kissing -and slobbering- began. Things ended rather abruptly when I realized that every kiss with SB was going to result in me needing a paper towel to wipe the aftermath off of my face. He went into every kiss mouth open, like a snake unhinging its jaw to engulf its prey, and I was terrified. Crissy suggested that I teach him how to kiss, but I insisted that my schedule was far too busy to teach 20-something males how to kiss girsl without making them want to vomit. I stand by my decision.

The Cat (Early 2007) - So, by now you know that I’ve had quite a few awkward experiences while playing the field. Recently, however, all others were trumped and I was left questioning the mental stability of pretty much all single males, but especially one that I will refer to as “The Cat”.

You see, I met a guy at work (he works in my building) and we started talking a lot and eventually going out together on what some people may refer to as “dates”. After three weeks of what some people may refer to as “dating”, he decided that he should let me in on a part of his life that he’d failed to mention in every long conversation that we’d had, email that he’d sent and phone call that he‘d made to me…he decided to tell me that he’s engaged.

Needless to say, I was shocked and appalled. We had discussed so many other things, including an admission by him that he regularly uses Clinique products to moisturize his skin (ha - and I said I’d never tell…see how fun secrets are!), that it was obvious that he had consciously decided to not tell me about his relationship. His attempts to convince me that it was actually my fault that I didn’t know of his engagement (because “did you ever ask me if I was engaged or married? No.”) were futile, and frankly laughable, and I realized just how jacked up he is.

To make matters worse, throughout our relationship I’d made a conscience effort to do thoughtful things for him. This included sending him a monkey made entirely of balloons for his birthday. I mean, he broke my trust big time, but the fact that I can never send someone else a balloon monkey without recalling this horrible dating experience…that, friends, could be the real tragedy here.
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When it comes to dating, I've been accused of being very picky and have even been called the Jerry Seinfeld of dating. I suppose that I am guilty as charged, but what can I say, I'm just looking for the right ice cream before I order a cone, and maybe eventually buy a whole pint.

My name is Lorie, and I'm a dater.