Wine -- it's what's for dinner! -- and first breakup post-breakup
Pretty much right when I got on Match.com, a very sweet, dorky geologist chatted me up. The next month we were concurrently out of town, so it took weeks of emailing and texting and talking on the phone before we met for a date.
Him: Hey! It's so nice to finally meet you!
Me: DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED AND HAVE KIDS GASP GASP.
He made it clear he wasn't into having more kids (he has a five-year-old). Still, we smooched, and he was a lot better of a kisser than the guy I went out with the NEXT night, who kissed like a FUCKING AUGER. If you don't know how an auger operates, watch this video.
We went on a second date, which also was fun. Then, he texted me every day afterward -- but still, I was getting that feeling. You know. He's just not that into me.
Then, yesterday, this text exchange:
Him: It's beautiful out this afternoon! Hope you had a great day!
Me: Hey, there! I'm reading down in the garden. :) What are you up to?
Him: At the pirate park. Sounds lovely!
Me (talking to self): This is the third day in a row he's texted with noncommittal information. Twenty-five years of dating have proven to me that when guys are into it, they NAIL IT DOWN. Such as, WHEN CAN I SEE YOU I WANT TO HAVE SEX. But this guy is starting to resemble the vegan euphonium player -- I KNOW, I KNOW -- who dumped me after six weeks but then CRIED SO HARD ABOUT IT HE COULDN'T DRIVE HIS CAR. I'm starting to think the geologist is one of the nice guys. It's nice that they're nice, but, unlike the rest of men -- I NO WANT HAVE SEX SO SILENCE -- they send mixed signals.
Me: It is! Anytime you want to come by for a sunset beer, let me know. :) Hope you guys are having fun! (I assumed he was with his daughter, since 1). he has a daughter, and 2). he said he was at a pirate park.)
Him: Great view from up here! I have a lot of inflatable guitars to blow up. I'd love to come by for a beer and a sunset.
Me (talking to self): NOT NAILING IT DOWN. ABORT.
Me: Inflatable guitars?? Cool dad. :) Let me know whenever you're free -- I'm free tomorrow and Friday night, also Sunday.
Me (talking to self): JESUS CHRIST, JENNY.
Him: Those are the exact days I'm not free!! The guitars are decorations for her birthday party.
Me (talking to self): JENNY [FULL NAME]. STOP.
Me: Oh her birthday is today! What a beautiful day for it. So, so great. Hope you're having a great time. Well, if it's not too early for a house party full of my college friends, you're welcome to come to a party on Saturday. :) (SELF-RESPECT DRAINING OUT OF ME LIKE OVA DROPPING OUT OF FALLOPIAN TUBES BUT NOT IN THE WAY THAT MAKES YOU PREGNANT.) But absolutely no pressure. Just let me know when you're free!
Him: Birthday is Saturday but I have to blow guitars up all week! Real bday is next Monday.
I looked at my phone for a very long time. Eventually I had to face it: This guy was breaking it off with me by saying he was spending the next six days BLOWING UP INFLATABLE GUITARS.
BLOWING UP INFLATABLE GUITARS.
BLOWING UP INFLATABLE GUITARS.
A few years ago, when I was on OKCupid, a guy made a date with me and then cancelled as I was on BART going into the city to meet him by saying his best friend had just been hit in the nose with a basketball and was on his way to the emergency room. I feigned compassion just to make him give me "updates" for the next 10 minutes, until he finally went MIA
.I remember that night. I looked nice. Really nice. Instead of getting off the train and going home, I took BART to 16th and Mission. I walked in to Bar Tartine without a reservation and sat at the bar. I ordered every single thing I wanted, including two glasses of wine, and I paid for it with my own money. Overall, it was not a bad night.
For wine:
Open bottle.