Good on paper guy

Though the "perfect man" in my eyes doesn't exist, I feel the man for me does. The past summer of 2013 I wouldn't necessarily say I was “looking” for love, but I wasn't opposed to getting a taste of some either. I went out with two guys, two TOTALLY different personalities and vendettas. I knew very early on that things wouldn't play out with either of them. My heart just, knew. Both men troubled and bugged men in various ways and I wasn't really intrigued. I didn't feel that oomph or those butterflies characters talk about in movies. No za-za-zu! Though I will say “The Brit” was very much good...on paper. But that was as far as it went.

The “Good on paper guy” is a fine recipe of a man that has the many ingredients and sentiments most women are looking for. He looks, or appears to look like this: He has a great job, reeling in money, not a player, loves his parents, educated and basically has much of his life planned out until he retires. Sound like a catch? Umm, yeah of course. But I kept waiting for more of “The Brit's” special qualities leap from the paper and into my heart.

This is what “The Brit” turned out to be, or at least this was all he allowed me to discover. Upon him messaging me on Match.com some time in March of 2013 I was excited after reading his profile. I had joined the site with the hopes of finding a “match” or something close to it. “The Brit” and I soon began to exchange text messages and a few phone calls here and there, leading me to believe he had something to offer. But you see he was very dry and too serious in our conversations, it was like he was too afraid or uptight to let loose and have fun. In some ways we shared that approach however I can let my hair down, and I can be a great person to be around. I am no party pooper. I can be quiet and laid-back but not boring. “The Brit” BORED me. I would crack a joke, and nothing from him. No “ba-da-ba” from my imaginary drummer like the ones you might see at a comedy show. I'm not saying I am comedy queen or can tell a good joke at a cocktail party, but I'd like to think of myself as being able to make others laugh. I wanted things to move forward with him but I also didn't want to force it.

After a few attempts to finally meet face to face since the beginning of our virtual tryst in March, we finally met in August. His job required him to travel often and every few weeks he'd disappear then contact me and say, “Oh I was in London visiting family,” or “I'm in North Carolina for a conference.” That part excited me, I love traveling and I thought that made a “match” I was willing to pursue. But he wasn't as thrilled about the traveling. He saw his job travels as business and hardly any pleasure. I could see how that might be, always on the go, different hotels and airports. It was like he wouldn't let people in.

When we met at 30^th street station he was coming from New York where he lives. He couldn't stay long because he had to catch a bus later that day to D.C. In our short time spent together he solidified lots for me. It was his comment about valuing his dad's opinion of his relationships with women so much that if his dad didn't like a woman then more than likely she wasn't the best pick for him. I inquired about this further asking him, “What if you really like someone but your father doesn't, would you just move on to the next person?” I remember him saying, “Not necessarily,” (in a very not so convincing voice). He added that he really valued what his father thinks. I had to let that statement marinate in my brain a bit.

It's not like my parents aren't the same in a sense, wanting the best for me, but I don't think they'd every try to control who I dated or loved. Of course if they felt iffy about someone I would listen and consider their concern. “The Brit” made it seem like his father's word was the end of it.

This reveal from him didn't make me think RUN, but it did make me wonder if “The Brit” could fall in love without his father's approval. It was another conversation on our “simu-date” that bugged me. I say “simu-date” because it really wasn't a full on date. I mean we met at a train station where thousands of people are traveling and roaming about. We had ice-cream at Ben & Jerry's, he bought me my favorite cookies 'n cream and he opted for orange juice. He coyly told me in his lightly British/African accent that he, “had a big breakfast.” Now, my thing was he was the one that said we could grab lunch when he arrived but it turned into a “big breakfast.”

In my summery floral shirt and my hair up high in a braided bun I felt breezy and cute. In time that sunshine on that day turned into an overcast. At first he didn't really care to sit down anywhere but if I wanted to we could. Ok, one slight check mark for letting me choose. And I definitely wasn't about to let him get off scot-free without him buying me something. HELLO it was a “simu-date,” that requires a purchase to be made on his behalf. Hehe, I'm crazy I know. He may not have received the memo. So I settled on us sitting down at Ben & Jerry's.

While at the counter I reached for my purse as if to pull out my wallet. Though on a “simu-date” ladies, never expect them to pay. “The Brit” said something like, “No worries, I got it.” I thought the gesture was nice but I also thought, “Damn, am I a cheap date?!” Granted he would only be in the city for a few hours but I half expected him to at least be somewhat hungry so that I wasn't the only one stuffing my face. As I spooned a nice chunk of my ice-cream “The Brit” told me about his last girlfriend's charade upon meeting his parents.

Though it didn't sound like a charade to me, more like a “I know that's right!” kind of moment. I hid my emotions inside after his story. He said that he suggested to his then girlfriend to wear something “modest.” I guess she thought how dare he tell/suggest what she should wear number one, and number two was she even the type to dress risqué? I had asked him the second question and he said no. He said that he wanted her to look good in front of his folks. Ok, cool but not?

So per “The Brit” his then girlfriend trotted down the stairs at his place wearing a revealing dress while I guess he and the parents looked on in disbelief. Makes for a good movie scene, right? Haha, anywho his father did not approve. He said they argued about what she had done and he faulted her for the little stunt. “The Brit” claimed to me that he just wanted her to dress the part just the one time and that her little outfit should be “reserved” for him only. Hmm.

The icing on the already melted cake plus my ice-cream that I damn near forced myself to finish he says, “I don't like when women are too independent.” (Insert his ba-da-ba drum joke), which never happened. As I explained my offense to his remark as an independent woman he didn't understand my bulging eyes or objection.

The “simu-date” ended with a “never again” hug and he went about to catch his bus. It was a combo of things irked me about “The Brit.” His lack of enthusiasm about parties, taking the wallflower bit too far, him not understanding why I thought he'd be a cool friend, the questions of me visiting him in Brooklyn when I told him I'd consider, his final text message which told me “I was right,” and no true interest that I could see in trying to lighten up.

He didn't seem like a dreadful or horrible guy to be friends with, but I saw no connection romantically. I had to follow my gut for once. I guess he didn't want to try out being friends. He knew what he wanted and so did I. But he didn't fight hard for me either. I never said don't contact me again but he soon faded into the land of potentially almost dating. Welp, can't help I want more than a guy that's good on paper. I need a guy that's good on making my heart swoon.

*Lish, The BCB

Summertime Non-negotiables and Monogamy

Summer in Philly this year, rainfall, scorching temperatures and dating droughts. Or is it just me thinking this way? I've spent this past summer learning to balance many aspects of my life but allowing myself to let my hair down, be spontaneous and not care. When the days got longer and more questions lingered I found ways to kick back and create a smile. The summertime can be an atmosphere of finding some lovin', being comfortable and content with the love you've found or being just as fine with not expecting much. I had no plans of how my summer land of dating would commence, and that probably was a good thing.

The first week of August 2013 prompted a few odd events to occur, odd for me anyway. All in a matter of a few days two guys were pursuing me and seemed to have a high interest in asking me out. Baffled at having much male attention let alone TWO people I was taken aback by all of it. How it began was with a friend request on Facebook, a guy whom I'll dub as Mr. Cocky, found me after years of not seeing each other. We passed by one another in the high school hallways casually saying "Hey" and "What's up" on occasion. I never saw much in him other than he was a bit of a freak and always seemed to have a pantie snatcher look in his eyes. He got them, though not mine. Mr. Cocky was cool peoples and that's all that I knew. High school was a strange enough place for me I hardly had the balls I mean gall to ask anyone out (though I did for prom), plus I wasn't interested in him anyway.

The friend request surprised me but I didn't think much on it other than, "Oh cool, I remember him." We had actually crossed paths while I was in college, he didn't attend my school but he worked in the dining hall for about a year. We continued the hello/goodbye treatment as we did in high school. He did on one occasion ask if he could visit me in my apartment at the time, I refused. He was an employee there and I wasn't about to get caught up with whatever his intentions were. Though his recent Facebook message to me to "hit him up" prompted me to see what the deal was, but not before days of thinking, "What do you want!" ran through my brain. I had almost said forget it and wasn't intending to contact him until a visit to my doctor encouraged me to do otherwise. She asked me what was I afraid of and exclaimed, "What's the worse that could happen?" Upon telling my mom she echoed the same words and added in her usual fashion, "Go ahead, get a drink out of him!"

During the session with my doctor she gave me a homework assignment to reach out to both Mr. Cocky and The Brit, who out of nowhere resurfaced just days before. As soon as I left the office I completed my homework, sent a text message to both guys. To my surprise (and a bit weirded out) BOTH responded within minutes. The Brit from Match.com and I have already surpassed the introductory questions so I didn't expect many inquiries from him. He elected (again) to come to visit me from Brooklyn, after two failed attempts to meet me in person. I said, "Ok" without getting too excited. His request for me to send him a recent picture of myself led me to despise technology for a second. After having my sister and friend assist me in the dual texting I had been engaged in with two different men led me to think about non-negotiables and monogamy. What are the deal breakers?

The Brit found it suitable to send me a photo of him and a little girl who appeared to be about three or four. The "WTF" look creeped on my face when my sister who was managing my phone at the moment handed me the foolery. His text with the photo, "I don't have a recent pic, but here's one with my niece." Yeah, exactly. I can only assume that him having the ability to even send me a picture message should also mean that he has a camera within his phone, no? I let that mishap go and didn't inquire further, le sigh. So I focused more of my attention on Mr. Cocky who began to ask me too many personal questions, things that I felt were none of his business. Like, "What's the freakiest thing I've ever done, how many people have I been with, do I like kissing?", and just randomness. Beyond his freakdom which felt very reminiscent of high school I agreed to go out on a date with him. My immediate thought: Research!

I sort of had a feeling that my attraction to him would be minimal and that I would treat the date as an experiment and nothing more. On a Friday evening I put on my best face, dressed in a floral-flirty ensemble that wasn't too busy or sexy. I just felt I wanted to be comfortable, more so in my regular attire. Mr. Cocky and I met up at Landmark, a bar/restaurant that was familiar to me and near my home, on purpose. I saw him in the distance outside of the place in a blue Polo short-sleeved shirt with denim jeans, nothing un-ordinary. I pretended to not see him and called him on my phone like I couldn't find him, cute and coy like I had planned. His departure from the train station reminded me of his reveal earlier that day on the phone that he didn't have a car nor a license and that he had no intentions of buying one at this time. We approached one another and shared a light hug. The date began on an awkward yet chill evening.

Our dinner conversation shifted between talking and "watching" the Eagles pre-season game on the flat screen television. I mostly initiated the convo, feeling icky about a too silent night. After too many mentions of his exes and frequent generalizations that "women are sneaky creatures" not only forced me to 'check-out' of the chat but also defend my gender and proclaim that I am NOT like the girls/chicks/bitches/hoes (his words not mine) that he has dealt with. I proceeded to caution him of grouping all women together and that it isn't fair. Mr. Cocky, who rightfully so deserves that name tried to sugar coat his meaning and that he wasn't meaning me but that it is the truth. We could not agree to disagree on those remarks so it was left alone, stale and un-tasteful. From his (in my eyes) trick questions of if I am materialistic, and if I would date someone who worked at McDonald's, led me to pull back and watch the Eagles lose instead. He and I shared a few laughs here and there, mostly me laughing at his ridiculous comments and trying to "help me" see what a good man is.

I was just about forced to gulp down my too minty mojito and somewhat enjoy my cheeseburger and garlic-parm french fries, I had to take in what he was dishing. The waitress and her eyes led me to believe that she knew that this was a first (maybe only) date. I tried to explain to Mr. Cocky my story of lacking trust in men and various fears that I had. I did my best as my friend insisted that I not reveal too much of myself, keep him guessing. Randomly during the night I got a phone call from, we'll call him "Rated R." It was so sudden for me, I almost didn't remember who he was. Here a guy I met this summer at a camp where I was a counelor was calling me to see if I wanted to grab a drink! I told him that I was currently out already but appreciated the offer. Rated R seemed to have a slight interest in me while at the camp but I brushed it off. I mean he is younger than me, college aged younger. But that's for another post! Check me out, three guys pursuing me, in one day, ha!

While on the date Mr. Cocky assured me that his past patterned ways of cheating on his exes (except the last one) was over and done with. I appreciated is candidness and his compliment of taking notice of me in high school and not conforming to the pressures of trying to fit in with certain crowds. Though his constant references of deeming me a "good girl" and "innocent" didn't sit well with me. Upon him paying for our bill and me leaving the tip (my decision), we left Landmark.

We chatted outside for a bit and I gave him a hug that wasn't attached or sensual at all. His response of my "fake hug" and patting him on the back was not a true hug. He tried to "show me" how to hug the right way but I refused as I saw where his hands were headed. I agreed to sit inside of my car and talk some more. We did just that, but he wanted more. After a few yawns on my part and ready to hit the sheets (my own) he was just about to get out, until he asked me for a kiss. I drew back at the request and frowned and shouted a big, NO! His rejected eyes prompted him to say, "Come on, we're grown." I explained to him a big duh, and that I knew that, but to me a kiss wasn't a first date move I wanted to make. I offered him a kiss on my cheek but he sucked his teeth in more rejection. I informed him that I had partially kissed or almost kissed a few frogs and that I wasn't much good at it. He insisted again to help "show me" how. I told him that I like tradition and he insisted that I realize this isn't "Dawson's Creek," and that he was much more like Pacey anyway. I was shocked that he watched the show as I did while a teenager. Like Pacey, he had bad boy tendencies.

In the name of research, wanting him out of my car and thinking why not kiss one more frog, I said fine! "A bad kisser is a non-negotiable" said by Samantha in Season 3, episode 5 rang out in my ears as we tried twice to make a lip to lip connection. Didn't happen. As Mr. Cocky gnawed at face, darting his tongue strangely, I had enough. Informing him again that kissing didn't seem right, when it wasn't right. I don't know that he was a giant BAD KISSER, but I do know the kiss was not good. Probably because the romance wasn't shared and I didn't want to kiss him anyway. In the name of research for this post I said, "What the hell!" We said our adieus for the night. As he exited my car so did my earlier thoughts of giving him another shot.

I just didn't feel a genuine attraction and I wanted more, more of something else. A goal-oriented man who isn't just content with the way things are. Mr. Cocky isn't a horrible person, he actually is a nice guy. Just not the guy for me. Who knows what The Brit might bring to the table, I'm not pressed. Til then I'll just try on a few more potentials and await the (hoping soon) arrival of my prince. Full of charm and enough stamina and charisma that sweeps me clear off of my summer sandal wearing feet. I believe in monogamy and having someone stand firmly beside me.

*Lish, The BCB

Matchmakers and Man-friends

But you've gotta find the match first!

Ok, so I am officially off of Match.com. The shorter end of the really not so long story is that I couldn't afford it. After three months of half hunting and not feeling the "matches" I could not afford the new monthly payment and I could not afford the shear dimness of the men presented to me. It was like trying to find a really cute blouse you bought long ago in your closet, you know it's there but you can't seem to locate it. My blouse or really cute potential mate was no where to be found.

When I called the customer service number for Match the representative hit me with a ton of questions as to why I was essentially backing out from finding love. Contrary to his assumptions I had good reason why I had to cancel my membership. "I am so sorry you haven't been satisfied with our service mam," the young sounding rep told me. I informed him I wasn't so much unsatisfied with the service as I was with the daily match emails that showed me no one that even halfway interested me. I mean the emails were displaying men way out in the backwoods of Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Not that I have anything against those places, but I thought the men would be more local to where I am. And the real kicker, when I would venture to the "matches" profiles as I scrolled to see what sort of woman interested them I'd mostly see: "White/Caucasian." Now, when I completed my profile I entered that my interests were in a variety of men but the daily matches emails kept showing me White males as potential matches, matches that had no interest in dating Black women. ?? Exactly.

What I think happened with those selections of men were the similarities of our interests. I noticed with some of the men presented to me are dog lovers like myself, or love sports, or that we shared the same astrological sign. But for the most part these men wanted women from other ethnicity's, and that's fine. But I wasn't paying to play a guessing game with Match.com or "wink" at someone or email a guy with no response. It was just a blah process for me. Though maybe I didn't put too much effort into it. I was however looking forward to the "stir events" that happen every so often in the city. The mingle events weren't so much like speed dating but more like a mixer and just chit chat. One event I wanted to go to was cancelled, then by the next go round I had to cancel my membership. And the stir events aren't free, so that made my eyes bulge a bit but I was willing to pay $15-$35 (depending on the event) to see what's up.

I managed to start up a small, and I mean small exchange with a British/African guy living in Brooklyn, NY. Yeah, quite a combination, and that interested me! But things with "The Brit" whom I began a very stiff and mild flirtation with via Match to texting, to an occasional phone call went nowhere. After one attempt of trying to meet, the chemistry did not improve. I felt he was boring and he couldn't get past asking me a million times through texting what I was doing on any given day, or inquiring when I was coming to Brooklyn, where he lives. I told him I would not be trekking to BK alone to meet him, he'd have to come to my city. He at first was cool with it but his conversation continued to be dry. I'd make a joke, nada. I kinda wanted to just hurry up and meet him in person just to see how our chemistry would be, but if the small talk was dryer than day old bread on the phone, what would it be like in person?

At this point, I don't know. I will say that The Brit seemed more lively on the phone than as a texter. And not everybody is a texting aficionado like myself! I was willing to look past that. He informed me during one phone call that he hadn't been having much luck with women. He said that he has been on a few dates lately but I guess there was a two date minimum because per his disclosure, it never went beyond that. I made a cute joke saying, "What's WRONG with you? Do you have a third eye or something!?" Insert laughter. That didn't happen. The Brit also disclosed that his sisters have been trying to set him up and that he needs to find someone, soon. We were on the same page as far as knowing many friends and people that are getting married. I guess it's the thing in my generation nowadays. Big whoop! (Secretly wanting to be in their shoes). But I haven't found him yet. Whoever and where ever he is. I felt that The Brit and I had a slight potential chance to hang out and see where any chemistry would go. Though the matchmaker gods did not see it that way.

A clear answer for me, his text one day, "Do you just want to be friends? I guess if I don't contact you, you won't reach out to me." Welp. In my mind I'm thinking whoa buddy, chill. But as I informed him, I haven't been quite accustomed to flirting and calling men, twirling my hair around my fingers and making my eyes twinkle. So I asked that he kinda work with me as I muster up more courage to put myself out there. It's been almost a week and I haven't heard anything else from him. Another clear answer.

Would it be too much to ask to meet a guy the old fashioned way? Whatever that is. Or at least get set up by friends, meet him at the post office or something, I don't know! But I don't get a good feeling that online dating is for me. So how do you meet the guys then girl? Right, how? I'd like to hit the town this weekend, get dolled up and crash a party or something. Not something that would actually happen of course. I'm not that brazen and who's party would I be crashing? Again, exactly. Silly me. BUT something has GOT to give soon. I'm 26, available, very available and I'm just ready to have fun, date, get a number, throw a drink in a guy's face, date again, get more numbers, meet a guy, gossip to friends about him, do it all over again. Whatever I have to do to find him and just be, happy.

At the end of yet another failed quest for love, I have to wonder, when is it gonna be my time?

-Lish, the BCB

Dating in the City

Here-I-go. I've told myself time after time, "Get out there, put yourself on the market." Trouble is, I'm not sure how and how I should present myself in order to be noticed and not shelved like usual. Dating isn't the hardest thing to do but it isn't the easiest. 

Operation "Find Me A Man" has been in effect for awhile now. Somebody's always asking but nobody's really offering. Friends don't hook me up and I've run out of long lost loves to locate. Nowadays young people in my generation are getting married and settling down with babies upon babies. But I'm not there yet. Not because I'm an odd ball that men shy away from, but because I've had a hard time learning to be the seeker. Some say "don't look or wait on him" because it won't happen. Confusing. Well guess what I'm looking but I'm not a damsel that's distressed and desperate. I'm just ready.

But yesterday a strange tide turned. A guy I began a mild flirtation with back in March via Match.com has reappeared, texting me out of the blue. I hadn't expected that. I'd just about forgotten him. A British-African man living in Brooklyn whom I'll call "Sir London Bridge" has re-discovered me and seems to have an interest in getting to know me. He explained his month long absence as a busy work schedule and traveling to London to see his family. His job requires a lot of travel so it seems he's often on the road somewhere. 

I'll admit he did send me a text back in April and I purposely ignored it. So him vanishing for a month probably had a little to do with my lack of interest at the time. I was just really in a weird place when we began chatting, Daddy issues, still not trusting men, I didn't know how to react to his continued pursuit toward me.

And today, as I yearn to be filled up with love, meeting someone new and seeing where it goes, I have to wonder. What's the harm in trying?

-Lish the BCB