Ask a Guy

After the latest dating debacle, I decided to go my merry way and return to the social scene here in the mecca of NoCo and go out to my favorite tavern last night to play a few tunes and down a few beers. So imagine my surprise when I spy Mr. I Find You Unattractive lurking in the corner of the bar like a daddy-long-legs in a screen porch.

I attempted to ignore him and sat down with friends. No such luck - he is so socially inept that he comes over, thrust his hand between me and my friend and says "hi!" as he shook my hand. I said "hi" and then turned my back to him and continued my conversation. I left the bar shortly thereafter - I couldn't stand the sight of him.

When I got home I found an "Ask a Guy" forum on a dating site I frequent. I read some other posts and they were amusing so I posted my latest story and got these replies, most of whom back my friends' assertions that he is a whack job:

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He sounds like an idiot and perhaps unstable. I would let your friends know about this guy. That way if he shows up at more of your hangouts they can tactfully get you away from him or not so tactfully make it clear to him that's he's not wanted.
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You were always borderline to him. He decided to do a few dates, but after further reflection, he decided that he was not really into you. I do have to agree ... I probably would have called to break it off, but he chose to do it in person and at work; that is a little odd.
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He sounds like he's socially retarded and that was his way of telling you he lost interest. Just...avoid him.
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Possibly he is a couple croutons shy of a salad and you are better off w/o him. There are many blind leads in dating.
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Creepy, crazy, stalker! get your restraining order ready.
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I deal with retarded men daily. that is a specialty of mine. get your restraining order ready save yourself the drama. DO not take him lightly.
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guy goes to her work just to tell her he thinks she is unattractive? that's not normal behavior. that is someone who is unstable. period, he went out of his way to insult her. its not like they were sitting on the couch at home.
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I am wondering why he bothered to rush over to your work to tell you he isn't interested. It sounds like he's so afraid you'll reject him that he wants to save face by delivering the shot first.
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He probably likes you but fears he's put himself out there too far without receiving some affection in kind. Making an ass out of yourself in front of your friends requires taking potentially self-deprecating risks, and he probably thinks he's communicated his interest in you.
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this guy sounds like a socially inept fool. Erase all contact with him, and if he seems to "pop up" in some more familiar places, call the cops or something.
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The next time (if there is a next time) he approaches you with whole handshake B/S or a similar routine, you remind him that he doesn't find you attractive, and tell him that you don't find people attractive that don't find you attractive, and that come to your work to tell you that. Tell him that if he has trouble remembering that you have no desire to talk to his crazy azz again, you will be happy to help him with a kick in the nads. Well, maybe not the nads kick part, but the rest would do nicely.

Crazy....crazy I tell you.

Oh yes, and you are definitely attractive. I don't know what his problem is. If you ever find your way to Portland Oregon, look me up
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And this one from what must have been a psychologist:

What most likely happened is that he is dissatisfied with some aspect of your budding relationship, lord knows what, and is trying to break it off. This is hard to do, at least for him, and the tension and conflict (he is both drawn to and repelled from you) is crazy making (he is likely feeling clinical anxiety, as in an anxiety attack and can't think straight in those conditions). If he stays away from you and you stay away from him, he should go on with life and, then just a memory. There are all sorts of possibilities, but somehow what was happening resulted in a lot of anxiety and he's trying to defend against it, and of course, making a fool of himself. The thing about irrational behavior like that is that it is his problem; if he starts to make it yours through some delusion, then be careful. All you did was to be friendly and open.
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First of all, why did he give you his number? A real man doesn't do that. A real man asks the woman for her number. So he instantly seems like an idiot from the start.

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This is beyond egregious-bad manners, even beyond television. It doesn't sound safe, either. I hope you're able to stay out of his way.

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Then there were those that blamed me for letting him know where I work - although those that know me know that my position is rather public and not a well kept secret. I was introduced by a mutual friend who shared my job right off the bat because it is just ... so ... damn... cool. That and the radio ad I am currently broadcasting that you'd have to be brain dead to NOT recognize as my voice. I might as well have had my employer's name tattooed on my forehead.

But that being said, I should take some of the blame for inviting this guy into my work and home too quickly. "You are just too nice to everyone," one friend shared last night. To think that this is a fault in this day and age is disheartening, but I guess it is.

The Virgin Queen

I am so lucky. I have so many awesome girlfriends I can call when the latest loser shits all over me. The "I don't find you attractive" asshole seems to have rung a particularly discordant note with my network of gal pals.

George the Cat opines that he is an controlling asshole using abusive techniques to manipulate me. My turning on my heel and walking away was just the right thing to do. Good for me! I feel better now. I never thought of it that way!

My sister suggested I immediately go back online to find someone else. "I don't mean to sound like Ma," (she said, sounding exactly like Ma), "But you are NOT getting any younger. Time is of the essence!" She has been married 3 times so she knows about this. I am concerned.

Gal Pal Kate says he pre-emptively dumped me anticipating my dumping HIM. Another controlling technique. OK!

Michelle can't believe the assholes that are out there. I agree - it's stunning!

I am exporting the contents of my blog now in an attempt to edit them down to submit them to a publisher. It comes to 98 single-spaced pages. I took an hour to go through, in reverse chronological order. I only made it back to April 2009! I am exhausted just going back one season. To think it's been 4 years since I told my ex. I wanted a divorce.

Last Friday I invited Corrine the tarot card reader over for dinner (see previous post). I can listen to her Hollywood stories for hours. Honestly, she is the most interesting person I have ever met. She told me about dating Steve Guttenberg and Bob Guccioni Jr., and her appearances on All of My Children and Night Court. She currently enjoys wearing flannel and my kitchen counter is as far as she will venture.

"Did you watch the films about Queen Elizabeth?" she asked over a glass of wine Friday, after I told her of my latest dating abuses. I had. I am a big history buff. "After her lover betrayed her and tried to overthrow her court, she painted her face white and returned to court announcing she was now the Virgin Queen. That is where I am in my life now. I'm OK with it."

After being married FIVE times (not a typo) she is taking a break. This is inspirational.

I spent today alone. I mean, ALONE - no plans with anyone. It was hard and wonderful at the same time. I got up early, went on a 10 mile bike ride, washed my car, finished a novel while at the beach, then read magazines by my swimming pool all afternoon. No kids, no friends, no man - and I am working hard on this being OK.

Maybe the problem isn't the lack of companionship - maybe it's the need for it at all.

Lost in Translation Again

After yet another stunning misread on my part, I have come to the conclusion I am retarded when it comes to men. I should not be allowed to venture outside alone. If I were in grade school, the little bus would be picking me up and I would have a full time teaching assistant sitting next to me in class, interpreting what the teacher is saying and what all the other kids understand without help.

The only guys that are interested in me are the other retards - the ones kept after class, riding the little bus alongside me, wiping their nose on their sleeve and telling each other about the latest Pokemon cartoon. The ugly, the fat, the misbegotten, and new for this month, the old and the married - are lined up and can't wait to see me again. The even marginally qualified? No thank you.

This latest missive after I mistook these actions from a gentlemen I met at a 4th of July party. Please follow along and tell me where I got lost in translation:

- met him at a party - he approached me before I left the party, shoved his name and phone number on a slip of paper into my paper and asked me to call him. This after making it clear he was single and had heard I was single.

- last Friday, asked me to meet him at the beach at sunset, then went back to his house and stayed up talking for hours around an open fire. He ended the night by playing me a love song on his guitar, telling me "I don't play love songs for just anyone. You inspire me." (EXACT QUOTE)

- called me Wednesday and asked to come over with his son, and the four of us hung out and had what I thought was a good time. No, I take that back. It was a great time.

- when he left that night, he hugged me and said "please call me" OK, follow me? Would you think that this was someone who was at least MARGINALLY interested in me? (Programming note - no, I didn't sleep with him.)

So imagine my surprise when he came to a large concert event I was working last night, pulled me aside, and said "I'm not attracted to you. Sorry!" I said, "Oh, wow. Yeah, I guess it's better to just get that over with. We can be friends, right? Can't have too many friends. OK, I have to get back to work now! Bye!"

So there I am, pulling together the single largest event of my career, surrounded by literally thousands of people and all my co-workers, having to put on my happy face and get back to work. He did not have the decency to leave and instead skulked around the rest of the evening asking if I needed help with the event. I declined and silently prayed he would vaporize.

It was a warm summer night. Everyone in town was outside at the concert. I ran into my vet at the show - a lovely woman my age who recently split from her husband. There she is - with a new guy! They are holding hands and clearly digging each other. How did she do that? Then I run into PAL and his girlfriend. They sit side by side, enjoying the show, leaning over to enjoy a kiss and hug occasionally. Salt! Wound! Arggh!

Don't get me wrong. I know I am lucky. I have a great job, financial security, a beautiful home, a lovely daughter and good health. How many people would be happy enough with that.

When I got home from work last night, I called faithful friend Tammy. "What an asshole," she said. "He came to your WORK to tell you that?"

As I type this, I am finishing up my 3rd cup of coffee. I need to run - the little bus will be picking me up soon and I need to pack my book bag.

Just a Note Before I Go

It would be hard to beat my last vacation, jetting off from Louis Armstrong International Airport after dumping the Postman at Jazz Fest. But as I prepare to leave for a week of camping on the sodden Maine coastline, in what weathermen are calling the coldest, wettest June in 100 years of record keeping, I am thinking of giving up vacation permanently and saving myself the money and frustration.

 

That being said, my Subaru is packed and I've bought new rain coats for me and my daughter. I also bought a portable DVD player, cards, dice and copious amounts of alcohol. I'm ready!

 

But before I go, an update on the dating scene. Alas, Lawrence of Acadia was a bust, just like you all warned me he would be. Why oh why do I fall for someone with great language skills again and again?

 

Speaking of which, here are recent photos of Machine Gun Man, who is currently working in San Francisco. He has brought his Craigslist tactics with him to the West Coast. "Women keep thanking me for not being gay," he tells me. He doesn't look bad, except for the speedo. If only he could keep his mouth shut.

 

But back to Lawrence. Nice guy, actually a great day together, but he is 3 inches shorter and much balder than advertised. Staring down at the top of his shiny pate most of the day, I realized that height is definitely a deal breaker for me. We went on a 15 mile bike ride along the Maine coast. Fortunately I am very fit and was able to keep up but I kept thinking that he did not really vette this point with me much. I am imagining a less rugged date staggering back to the parking lot in kitten heels after just 2 or 3 miles. Not me! 

 

It wasn't just the physical appearance that did him in. He told me about his job aspirations. It is to become a permanent substitute teacher at a local school. How's that for climbing the corporate ladder. What, was the temp agency out of gigs? When we pedaled by a strawberry field being picked by itinerant workers, he said, "I've done that!" He just got his own apartment 3 weeks ago. Prior to that, he was "in a house with other people." I didn't ask what that meant - just pedaled faster to get back to my car.

 

Meanwhile, the Kavorka is strong with me. When breaking down my PA system after a gig last weekend, the cook at the restaurant carried out my equipment to my car for me then asked for my number. I was as surprised as he was when I gave it to him, "REALLY? Wow!" he said, as he dialed my number from his cell to make sure it was real. I will need to find a way out of this one as I am back playing at this tavern next month.

 

So off for a week without a computer and little cell phone reception. That should keep me out of trouble.

change to our regularly scheduled programming

The problem with having multiple personality disorder is that you sometimes get confused. So I'd like to apologize to those of you who, logging in to read about my latest dating disasters, instead read my work-related blog.

I got a call from a co-worker and loyal reader of this blog asking if I had truly given up on dating and was reverting this blog into a mouth piece for work.

I almost dropped the phone in my hurry to log on to make sure that I hadn't inadvertently posted my personal life on my company website and Facebook page.

Thankfully that wasn't the case. I actually had posted the story to BOTH personal and professional blog, but had only linked up the professional one. Thank GOD.

And while the tubing park going in at my place of employment will be a slippery slope, it isn't nearly as slippery as the foibles of dating after 40.

Nicotine

I was just checking my email when I noticed this message from a dating site I no longer frequent. I couldn't help myself. I checked him out. This is not quite as good as Machine Gun Man's profile and emails but he is a close second. Below is his email to me. I just shot him a note back so we'll see what happens. Don't worry, I won't cancel the wine dinner no matter what happens. :)

 

This is bachelor #2. Etc., etc.

I know it can be a long way from the booming metropolis AND cultural mecca of Bangor to northern NH- in fact one could almost say you can't get theuh from heuh. But I'm a thoroughly desperate man! Just kidding. Sort of.

My profile photo stinks, and I apologize for that. Ihave lost 15 pounds since then, but I didn't really climb Katahdin - I had my head photoshopped onto a photo of Dick Cheney on top of Katahdin. But other than that my profile is almost entirely honest.

I'm trying to get a better photo on to my profile, but my technological capabilities are roughly the equal of those of your average neolithic man. I figure the less time I spend on computers the better off I'll be.

In any event, you said you love the outdoors, and few things give me as much pleasure as hiking, backpacking and camping...once the black flies have all died and gone to hell where they belong.

I love hiking on the AT, and one of these days, maybe this summer, I'm going to finally get off my lazy white butt and do the 100-mile wilderness right here in the great state of Maine. I know a place here in Maine - Caratunk, to be precise - where one can hike to one's heart's content, get a pint of good beer and sit in a big outdoor hot tub. That, in October, is sheer heaven.

But that's enough for now. I hope this message finds you in good health and good spirits, and if I don't hear from you I wish you the best of luck with your search.

Take care, Lawrence (of Acadia)

Here is my member profile:

Wicked Cunnin' Mainuh

Greetings! It is sunny and 70 degrees here in Bangor, Maine, and I am absolutely dying to get outside and enjoy this fabulous weather, so this might be a little briefer and less witty than it might normally be. I recently moved to Bangor, and I offer no excuses for what might seem to some an act of sheer lunacy. Hey, if it's good enough for Paul Bunyan and a blue ox, it's good enough for me!

I like to hike; camp; swim; travel; read; ski; snorkel; talk politics, sports and history; write; and speak foreign languages. I enjoy going to movies; eating out; eating in; watching (a moderate amount of) sports; and drinking (a moderate amount of) beer. I like to play with kids, especially my own (he's nine years old and lives with his mom in Montville, Maine), and I like to play with and walk dogs.

I am fairly political, and I'm a lefty, so it probably wouldn't work with a conservative, a reactionary, a neofascist, or even a good, old-fashioned fascist.

I've traveled a fair amount in these here United States - 47 of them - and in Canada, Latin America, Europe and Africa; and I've lived in Latin America and Europe.

I love kids, and animals, so if you have any, that would be no problem. If you write I will write back - how's that for a deal? My father and I have been corresponding weekly for 33 years, so I am capable of writing!

In any event, I wish you luck with your search.

Sideways

I think with the departure of The Postman, including the self-immolation of my vacation and the resultant $235 charge from JetBlue for exiting stage left, I am officially Burnt Out on Dating. I know, I know, I have said it before. But this time, I mean it. I don't even crave it. The thought of going on one more bad date exhausts me. I tried it one last time about a week ago. Much like a life-long smoker might take a puff on a discarded butt months after quitting, I went out with a not-very-promising suspect for dinner.

He looked like he was once a good looking man. But at whatever his age is now, clearly not the age he claimed to be, he was at best worn around the edges. The discussion over dinner about his not one but two forms of Hepatitis did not help. I am not judgemental about people. This alone would not rule him out. But he kept saying over dinner, "I wish I could have a drink but my liver couldn't take it!" Yeah, I am way too much at the top of my game to go down this road.

So instead I sent the email excerpted below to a select group of gal pals (sorry Levent). I can only hope the bottle of wine will act like the uncorking of a genie from the bottle. As it says in The Secret, "Your Wish is My Command."

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When I got divorced 4+ years ago, I treated myself to a trip to Italy. It was truly the most fantastic vacation of my life. Part of my trip included a tour of a vineyard and winery where I bought some of the most incredible Italian wine I have ever enjoyed.

I saved one bottle - possibly the most expensive bottle of wine I have ever bought. It was about 70 Euros 4 years ago so you do the math. I vowed to save that bottle to share with the perfect man who undoubtedly would come into my life in short order. After all, this whole divorce thing is going to be FUN! It's going to be like going to DISNEY WORLD! Why, it should have only been a matter of weeks before someone rode in on that white horse, corkscrew in hand, to uncork both the wine and my happy ending.

As I recently eyed the dusty bottle in the sideboard of my dining room, I sighed and wondered if I would have a chance to enjoy this wine before it turned to vinegar. How long can you keep a bottle of wine like that, anyway?

Then, a thought occurred to me. There is not much point in waiting for some stupid guy to come along to bring me happiness. One of the unintended happy outcomes of my dating disasters and delights of the last few years has been the support, laughter and shared stories with you all. So fuck it, I said to myself. I'm going to host a dinner party for the girl friends who have been so supportive.

And we're going to open that bottle of wine and toast to what really matters - friendship through thick and thin.

And this is just for you. No stupid men allowed. :)

And for those of you who will hem and haw and wonder what family, work or significant-other commitments you might have on tap preventing you from coming, I would challenge you to ditch them because this is going to be a good one.

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So far there are 5 of us attending. Two regrets who are ironically enough going to WEDDINGS the date of the dinner. And one who is going to her husband's father's early father's day fete (hello - did you read the part about ditching your husband this once?). Have fun with the in-laws!

This blog photo is of me and my girlfriends from Italy. We drank Limoncello in the wood-fire hot tub outside our villa. I can only hope the dinner party in Madison is half as much fun.