Date Number Two

Date number two came along after I realized date number one wasn’t going to call me. Still feeling a bit adventurous, I gave the guy a shot. After all, “all guys” aren’t the same. If they were, our lives would be so much easier.

Date two made a few minor mistakes and one major mishap. He contacted me at the beginning of the week asking for a date that weekend. Good man. In advance always wins a guy bonus points. Then I didn’t hear from him. At all. Friday evening I received an email from him, while I was at dinner with a friend, asking if I could go out on Saturday. (He didn’t have my phone number. Not going to happen on a first date with a guy I met online.) Uh, really? Am I that pathetic that I don’t already have plans?

Since the guy was in from out of town, I figured I could rearrange my plans and give him a shot. This actually was a huge sacrifice for me. I love basketball, especially my college alma mater. The Cougars were playing #20 in the nation and Jimmer, the 2011 player-of-the-year, was playing against the Jazz. Two basketball games. On at the same time. And my date started 30 minutes after both tip-offs. Once again, I swallowed my pride and gave the guy a shot.

As I drove to the restaurant (and yes I was listening to the game on the radio), I figured out that if the date was an hour long I could still see or listen to the end of the game. Showed up at the restaurant and guess what? Restaurant was closed. No guy in sight. On a bright spot, the bar next door was broadcasting the Jazz game.

Fifteen minutes after the date was supposed to start, the guy showed up. He apologized about parking saying he didn’t realize how crowded downtown would be. I explained the dual nature of the two basketball games. His response, “Oh. Don’t really care about either.” My heart cringed. I can put up with a lot of personality differences but this one was hard to swallow. You don’t care about basketball? Any of it? I could forgive the college team because he went to a different school, but the Jazz? This guy was from Salt Lake. Didn’t care? At all?

Still hoping for something positive, we walked and found a new place to eat. The guy was interesting to talk with. However, no sparkling blue eyes. No captivating smile. And I kept wondering, “What’s the score?!” Needless to say, I wasn’t that into him.

The guy walked me to my car and said he wanted to keep in touch. He is from Virginia, a good four-hour plane flight away, so I said sure. That would be nice. He had my email and now my phone number. Though I said yes, part of me expected him to be like date number one. Talks all gallant-like but really will flake out on you as soon as he leaves the state and sees another pretty girl walk his way.

Now, I really try not to lump guys together into one stereotypical category, but I’ve discovered a pattern in my many years of dating. Men just don’t think. As one of my good guy friends pointed out to me in a gchat conversation, “Boys are stupid. We are. I am and I admit it.” This is the guy that kissed me then didn’t talk to me for a week. Yes. That stupid.

So there you have it. Date number one doesn’t realize that unless he is working on Facebook’s IPO, his excuse has to be REALLY good. Date number two doesn’t realize that even though we talked Civil War history and travels in Europe, I was thinking about the basketball game, which would have been the conversation if he hadn’t squashed it like a bug. Okay. So date number two isn’t stupid. He just didn’t know he was dashing all my hopes and dreams saying he didn’t care about basketball.

I’m taking the next week off of dating but stay tuned. I have a few more good stories just from the online profiles I’ve seen: The bodybuilder. Kenny from South Park. Parawon Prophet. ‘Nuff said.