Thursday, October 6, 2016

Bad Dates: Preppy Meets Goth

In honor of my grown up blog declaration, let's start this off right.  Let's talk love.  Or lack of love that leads to a LOT of online dating sites.  As the song goes..."it's hard out here for a pimp."

When my disastrous relationship ended, I downloaded every app I could find that same night.  Sadie was sick, I thought she was dying {she pulled through and lasted a few more months}, and I remember so clearly just sitting on the floor next to her.  I was a mess.  I was so mad at my ex for being such a horrible human towards me.  And more than that, the emotion overshadowing all things related to my ex, was concern about Sadie.  So I really only left her side when necessary.  I just sat next to her trying to sleep and downloaded dating apps to get my mind off all the ick. 

As a result, I had a lot of weird first dates.  Remember that I declared this to be my #YearOfYes and I was trying to get back on the proverbial horse.  One Friday, I actually scheduled two first dates, many hours apart, at the exact same Starbucks.  {I'm 38 people...thirty eight...I still hold out hope that I can have a family...foolishly, I know...but if that's ever going to happen, I have to bloody make it happen!}

The first date was super weird...but this is the story of the second date of the night.

My attitude towards online dating has changed over the years.  I used to spend ages talking on the website, then slowly giving in to talking on the phone, then finally nine decades later having a date.  Now I am like, let's meet!  For two reasons: first, if they refuse for any reason, take it as a sign from the universe to save yourself and move on and second, in person chemistry is so different than text chemistry.

So I "met" this person on an app.  Normal.  We chatted a bit.  Normal.  They suggested we meet right away and I picked the very generic but very easy to get to and well-lit Starbucks.  Normal.  I had a good feeling about this one.  Not a feeling that this was going to be amazing but from the photos and few convos, I felt like it was going to go just fine.  I didn't have any nervousness about the date.  

Let me tell you about my outfit.  Pink Lilly Pulitzer top, white jeans, tan Tory Burch ballet flats, big pearl necklace, monogrammed bag.  Typical KK.  I felt cute but also felt like it was an accurate representation of myself.

I got there a few minutes early and sat down at a table to wait.  While playing on my phone, I was startled when the tallest person I'd ever met was hovering over me.  My date.  This website didn't include height.  And honestly that's not something I care about as I've dated people taller and shorter than me before.  But this was not a few inches taller, this was a foot an a half taller.  It caught me off guard.  And that's when I noticed my date's outfit.

Head to toe black goth.  Black tall combat boots, tight black pants, weird black top, one of those spiky choker necklaces, and black nails.  

Um...every photo I had seen was normal and the sort of style that blends into a crowd.  Normal button downs mostly.  Nothing striking at all in those photos.  What the heck was I looking at here?  {Please note that I have nothing against this or any other personal style.  I just think that if this is part of your regular routine, you should be clear about it from the get-go.}

We walk up to get coffee and as we are waiting for our drinks, my date who shall forever be known as Goth, tells me that there is a rave tonight and that's where they're headed afterward .  It's once a month and all of their friends are part of the subculture.  The phrase subculture gets used two dozen more times to explain friends and this goth shin dig.  Subculture, subculture, subculture.  

I was already there though so I just had to find my way through this awkwardness.  We sat down.  Goth tells me about time spent in the military and what seems to be a genuinely interesting career in film now.  But also casually mentions hoping to be a NY State Trooper.  I was like, oh I have two cousins who are Troopers!  {I was so excited I had something to add to this very one sided conversation finally.} I also mentioned that one of my Trooper cousins was young.  

And that set Goth off.  Goth, who just told me about wanting to be a Trooper and just heard that I have two family members on the force, lost their every loving Goth mind at the notion that someone younger than them could get in and they didn't.  {I didn't realize until this point that Goth had even applied.}  And then I heard the longest diatribe about how bad the Trooper system is here vs other states because they do things other than just going up and down the state highways and that's not their job.  {I mean, okay but you just told me how badly you want to be one...}  Goth went on about how they also wanted to be a police officer and proceeded to list not one, not two, but THREE local departments they were rejected from and I heard all about the conspiracy theories why.  And so on and on and on it went.  I changed the subject a few times but it always came back to how terrible it was that my cousin, who didn't at all deserve it, was a Trooper.  

Other highlights, beyond the goth subculture and Trooper/police rejection, included stories of an aunt who makes dolls and interrogating me to the point that I nearly cried on who Goth is friends with in my city and why don't I know them.  Every time I tried to wrap this up, Goth circled back to the whole Bitter Betty Trooper issue.  Mind you, during this very dominating topic choice, I said little.  Mostly just oh and uh huh and I'm sorry to hear that.  Goth was just so bizarrely aggressive and I was so desperate to find some sort of silver lining in this situation.  

When we finally left, I didn't even give opportunity for a handshake.  I was polite of course, but no need to linger.  Let's not even pretend this went well.  This went weird.  Call a spade a spade...this was not a success story.  I was in full on tears before I even pulled out of the parking lot.  

Y' is hard work.  Just to get to a first date takes a heck of a lot of time, energy, and motivation.  While I was proud of myself for sticking it out and giving this very bizarre situation a fair shot, despite all the optical obstacles, I was still sad and exhausted.  It just shouldn't be this challenging.  

Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match.  Find me a find.  Catch me a catch.  Night after night I'm alone in the dark.  So make me the perfect match!

And that's the story of when Preppy met Goth for the longest, most aggressive cup of coffee...



Living Life in the Lowcountry said...

Ok, that is funny and horrifying at the same time! Yikes!

Landlocked Mermaid said...

KK this is so funny and so scary and so crazy at the same time! And I am very proud of you for sticking to your yoga mat and finding sanity there xoxoxo PS no goth for my KK xo

Flo said...

OMG, that is hilarious! As the saying goes, before you meet the handsome prince you have to kiss a lot of toads!

MCW said...

Haha! That is so good. I am with you, no need to drag it out, meet in person and see where it goes.


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