true life: i’m addicted to dating buttheads

what that title should really say is, “true life: i’m addicted to dating assholes,” but something about a curse in the title seems a bit too aggressive to me.

it’s something i’ve realized about myself as of late: i’m picking out some real un-winners to go out with, and i’m not sure why.

is it them? is it me?

best friends come into play immediately with talk like this.

what’s wrong with me?

why doesn’t it  ever work out?

if he said he wants to see me again, then that means he wants to see me again, right? 
i offered to split the check. if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t have paid.

so we spend hours and hours, over days and days, that turn into weeks trying to analyze what was said, what was done.

and then my mom says, “maybe he’s just not that into you.”

which is a strong and true, yet cliché thing to say. i loved that movie for a very long time. i thought it was genius. but what i’ve realized recently is that, that movie sucks. you spend an entire 129 minutes sympathizing with the female characters. there is one for every “type” of woman: the single girl, the married and cheated on girl, the girl waiting to get married, the “other woman” girl, and the drew barrymore girl.

and just when you think to movie has proved its “rule vs. exception” point – that you wholeheartedly agree with – they shit on you. the single girl gets a boyfriend. the married girl finds empowerment and leaves her husband. the girl waiting to get married, gets married. the “other woman” girl kind of gets screwed over. and the drew barrymore girl gets a boyfriend that is obsessed with her.

in what world does this happen?

when all signs point to, “yes, he likes you!” but he isn’t the one saying it… what do you do?

i’m a novice at this dating thing. for the most part, it’s pretty fun. i have very little to lose, and an undetermined amount to gain.

dating without expectations is important to me. when i meet someone, i don’t see a second date before the first has started. i don’t see a future dinner or movie. i don’t see a future boyfriend or friend (or, god forbid, husband – who does this?).

if things go well, and there is mutual interest, i will see the person again.

since i have no connection to the person after knowing them for only a few hours, i think it is important to be completely honest with them.

“it was nice to meet you.” because it is nice to meet anyone, but i probably don’t want to see them again. if i am uninterested in pursuing anything but friendship, i let them know. i always offer to split the check.

sometimes this doesn’t exactly work.

like with phil, who repeatedly asked me what i was looking for. i told him i don’t like to have expectations.

to which he replied, “so you’re looking for friends with benefits?”

in what world does what i said translate to friends with benefits? i wanted to say. i corrected him. thirty minutes later, he was at it again.

“so since you’re looking for friends with benefits…” i corrected him again. he asked for the check ten minutes later.

he also liked to analyze everything i said by replaying it back to me (and adding his insight), as if i had not just said it.

“you like whiskey, and you wont drink it with a straw in it, so you are kind of a hard ass,” he said after i ordered my second drink.

you’re drinking a long island with a straw, and you don’t like whiskey… so you’re obviously a wienie, right?

and i began to wonder… who told this kid that he is so great, for, most likely, his entire life that would make him think that he could talk to me like this?

is this a millennial thing? is this what it’s like to date a millennial? have our parents raised us to think that we are so amazing at everything that we can’t even go on a civilized, respectable date?

my heart is unbroken when it is not invested in someone. but after going on many mediocre dates with duds and jerks, you want to hold on to the ones that make a reasonable amount of eye contact and crack a few jokes that make you both laugh.

but rarely does any of this play out the way you imagine it would in an adult dating situation. the games begin immediately with a ping pong of “who can wait the longest to text back a response.” whoever can refrain the longest earns more points. if you can avoid sending a reply at all, you win.

because nothing seems more desperate than sending more text messages than you receive. you want the blue to white text ratio to be as even as possible.

and after all of the dates and all of the texts, i end up in the same place: laying in my bed, legs up the wall, typing frantically to kaily who is my safest person and a premium participator in rapid fire messaging.

this is where the hours turn to days turn to weeks until the next suitor steps up to bat.

in between the suitors, i will continue to drink whiskey, eat my weight in plantain chips, run a few miles a day and avoid dating anyone who is a self described “young professional.”