Romancing A Stoner

I’m dating again. Partially out of boredom but also out of broke-dom. I can’t afford to hang out unless the other person is buying at least one of the rounds. I have attempted to hang out and not buy anything but that doesn’t cure the bore part of my doms. Unless the person I meet is super interesting. That’s not often the case.  Sometime this summer I forgot how to be alone in public.  Starting this project I knew the cost.  Solitude is easier some days than others.  Meeting new companions who show genuine interest only makes the disparity of loneliness even more stark.  Fortunately, the asshat dates make up for that with consistent moments of gratitude for my independent lifestyle. 

I had a recent lunch date with my parents.  They flew all to way to Seattle from Memphis so they could visit…  Canada.  The obvious reason to come here first is to see me except they never said that.  Repeated requests to see them “if I can” emphasize how little they are here for me.  At the same time, a trip to this part of the world seems awfully random.  I’m not sure what to make of the whole thing.  Leading up to now my feelings were mixed.  I don’t want my parents to see how I am living right now.  I’m not ashamed but I also know they won’t approve.  Conversely, it’s nice physically interacting with humans that know what I looked like before this year.

Another date I went on lasted until 7am.  Because I started walking home at 5am, but still.  A very confident boy invited me to visit him at the bar where he works.  I, personally, never give away such a vulnerable location on the first date.  What if I’m a crazy stalker-chick that becomes obsessed?  He’d have to quit his job to get rid of me.  Not an issue with me specifically but I should remember to warn him.  When I got to the bar he turned down my payment and strategically seated me between two of his friends.  The guy on my right was quiet and polite.  He clearly likes the bartender and only wishes good things for his friend.  The guy on my left has a 4-month old mastiff puppy at a bar.  That should tell you everything you need to know about him.

My most recent date was with someone I’ve chatted with via text for a few weeks.  A nice guy with nice pictures.  In person downgraded the experience.  Not because of anything except my own misguided expectations.  I can’t explain it scientifically but sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there.  This man is pretty and kind and yet I didn’t feel any compulsion to mash my body against his.  It’s disappointing to put effort into communication and have it fall flat.  If he wants to hang out again I’d be game but my nervousness about whether we’ll “click” is resolved.  Ironically, that could be his in.  I’m capricious like that.

One thing is for certain.  I’m not in danger of a relationship.  For all the tangling together of limbs and schedules, none of the people in my life are tempting me out of the single life I scraped together here in Seattle.  The urge to curl up as a little spoon and let someone take care of me is overwhelming at times.  I miss feeling safe.  I crave a deep connection with someone that makes us think fondly of each other when we’re not there.  Any semblance of that I might have had in Memphis burned down with the rest of my emotional bridges.  I haven’t been in Seattle long enough to really find anything new.  I believe I will – mainly because the other option is to become cold and bitter.  I’m too sweet to be bitter.

 

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