The Life Of A Serial Dater

ROCKIN’ THE BOAT

shesucksatfishing — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 23:58:41 +0000

Friday during the day, I got a call from Pilot boy – not a text message, a phone call. There should be a sequel to the book Flirtexting called “How To Not Sound Like An Idiot When He Actually Picks Up The Phone And Calls.”

He told me that he came up with the idea to go on a dinner cruise boat called the “Jungle Queen” Sunday evening. My first Sunday date, how exciting. The Jungle Queen is an evening dinner cruise where you set sail on Fort Lauderdale’s intercostal. You view the “famous” and “not so famous” but extremely wealthy real-estate of Florida’s residents living along the coast.

I was so thrilled! How great did that sound? So far pilot boy had done everything right; he called when he said he would, and even made the plans for the second date. This obviously gave me enough time to buy an adorable dress so that my outfit could match somewhat of a “boating” theme. Hey, I’m a girl. I said no judgment zone.

He told me the time and the place I had to meet him on Sunday. I received a text from him Saturday telling me how he was looking forward to seeing me the next day, how charming!

I got all-done-up and was ready for my Sunday evening date. My nautical looking dress with my nude wedges, soft makeup, hair down, small purse, light sweater. Done.

We had to meet at the dock because he had some prior obligations (whatever that meant) so he said he would meet me there. Well, I showed up 20 minutes early. That is a miracle in itself.

When I said “dinner cruise” I am sure what popped in your head was a big, white yacht with gleaming lights on the side glistening down on the water, tinted black windows and a butler standing on the ledge holding champagne in one hand and a cheese platter in the other waiting for me to board.

Wrong.

The Jungle Queen is a large, double-decker wooden boat with wooden stools for seating; which was built in 1971. I am the go-with-the flow girl remember? I waited on the dock for about 20 minutes while everyone boarded. He called me and said he was running late, that he was really sorry but he was going to be there as soon as he could. Great, everyone is going to be mad at us because we are the late comers. ( -5 points )

We almost missed the boat. I was that girl sitting on the dock waiting, while everyone was watching. She is definitely getting stood up. He made it just in the nick of time.

He was even more handsome in person then he was in his pictures. Or it was just my one contact in my eye blurry vision from the first date; he was a cutie-pie.

The boat ride was great. The Captain gives entertaining commentary as he takes you past the exclusive neighborhoods and yachts. After an hour boat ride you get dropped off at what they called the “Indian Village Island,” not so much my kind of “Island.” Pina Colada anyone?

When you arrive at the “Indian Village Island,” which is really just a lot in a subdivision, filled with lots of trees to block out the surrounding homes, you’re “herded” into what I would call a “mess hall.” It reminded me of those childhood summers I spent at sleep away camp. They sat you in long rows of tables that have bench style seating. They cram as many people at each table as they possibly can.

The picnic table style seating got people talking to their neighbors right away; hey we were all in this together. We sat next to a couple around the same age as us and we really hit it off. They were there on their 2^nd anniversary date and we were there on our 2^nd date; seems legit.

Once everyone was seated the madness began. Waitresses were running everywhere! Ready, set…EAT!

The tables were piled high with platters of baked beans and coleslaw. They bring out big pans of ribs, then chicken, then shrimp. The process repeats several times, until you’ve eaten “All you care to eat.”

Am I supposed to dig in here or am I supposed to act like a lady?

I waited for him to pick up the first piece of rib with his hands to make sure that this was the direction we were taking. Yup, dig in.

I am not sure if he did a lot of research on this dinner cruise but if you are looking for a romantic dinner, this is not it. Any hint of romance between you and your significant other will surely be interrupted by “Will you pass the beans?”

After everyone finished stuffing their faces with BBQ goodness and cleaning up with 15 wet-naps, there came a voice over the loud speaker; “Everyone please exit to the back for this evenings show performance.”

Show? Let’s go!

Some of you may not think this – but I love to be up close and personal when it comes to things like this. Front row it is.

Now this is no ordinary show – it’s a magic, dancing and singing show. Performed special for you by the locals of “Indian Village Island” AKA, the guy they found on craigslist the night before.

The magic show was good – I could have made that coin disappear too. Dancing had some great moves and then came the singing. Audience participation needed.

Now, I thought to myself, I BETTER not get picked for this; but the host on the stage was calling for a “boy band” group. He jumped right off the stage and looked at pilot boy, pilot boy looked at me, and I looked at the host. He was the chosen one, and up he went. Pilot boy was joined with 4 other men to sing the Macarena.

The poor boy was on stage, spot lights beaming and sweating bullets. I don’t think my video recording was making him feel any better. He sure was a trooper. After the show it was time to get back on the boat.

At this point my face was hurting from smiling so much. He knew exactly what to say, he was outgoing, he was smart, he was funny, and his ridiculous good looks were just a bonus; all in all, he was great. The ride back was nice, a little more romantic with a night breeze, and some soft background music. Let’s not forget the soothing sounds of the crying baby that sat directly behind my left ear. We got back to the dock around 9PM. It’s a school night people!

Before we got off the dock he said, “I don’t want you to go home yet.”

I said –”OK,” what do you have in mind? He said, “let’s go to the beach.”

I just looked at him and thought, how do I say no to a face like that? We got into his car and drove down the street to the beach. He said “let’s stop off and get some wine.” It’s 9PM on a Sunday night, where are we getting wine? Gas station, keeping it real classy.

We parked the car and walked onto the beach. Obviously it was pitch black and the only light was from the moon, which lit up the sand for us to see. It was starting to feel like something that would only happen in a movie, but I was going along for the ride. He asked me if I mind if we sat on the sand.

Not at all! Let me just sit right down in this damp sand in my brand new $60 dress. There must have been a shooting star up above because as we walked closer to the beach there was a random beach chair in the middle of the sand. Someone must have had one too many and forgot their chair that day; finally I’m having a little bit of luck!

We sat on the beach chair, looked up at the stars, and drank our mini Pinot Grigio 4 pack.

SO ROMANTIC.

On my drive home all I could think was… “ball gown with a fitted bodice. No…strapless, definitely strapless.”

LOVE is blind…or is it just me?

shesucksatfishing — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 07:22:01 +0000

The past few months of being a one-date -wonder I thought were never going to end. At this point I had imagined myself going on a weekend cruise to the Bahamas with my Match.com or JDate boyfriend. Again, we all have dreams.

I spent a week or two away from the computer and my dating profile. Everyone needs a breather once in a while. I knew there needed to be some changes on either the filtering of my search results online or my dating tactics.

I guess you can say I am a bit picky, but what girl isn’t; we want what we want. So, it was time to change the dating tactics. My night stand table was piling up with “how to” dating books.

My new Bible AKA

Flirtexting: How to text your way into his heart by Olivia Baniuszewics and Deborah Goldstein

Since I was cruising on the road of the next generation of love, online dating, I needed to master the communication of text. We all are well aware that no boy these days is good with F2F (face to face). The rules are simple; they are spelled out clearly, fearlessly and with a hint of “tude”; my kind of book.

Dating in the digital age is a whole new world. You can try to get advice from your mom but if you ask her all she will say over and over again is, “well back in my day, Johnny called and asked me out; he came to my door, introduced himself to my parents, picked me up in his white Camaro with red seats and took me to a drive-in-movie.”

WAIT. A guy ACTUALLY called you and asked you out? We don’t even know what that is anymore, how ancient.

The questions you have to ask yourself can make your head spin. How long do I wait before I respond to his text? What does it mean when he doesn’t respond to my text right away? How do I reply to “how is your day?”

I learned how to create the BPT (best possible text).

I learned that you don’t send TUI’s ( text’s under the influence )

I learned just when to reply.

I learned, never be JANE.

When answering a text message you have to decide, do you want to be the flirty girl, the sassy girl, the LOL girl, the straight to the point girl, or JANE? Each girl has their own unique way of answering text messages back to their PBF ( Potential Boy Friend)

To sum up the book in one sentence : You never want to be Jane

Jane is the eager dater. She jumps at the first text she receives from a guy telling him she is not busy, she wants to hang out, and asks what time should she be ready.

TEXT FROM BOY: “HI?”

You can only imagine, the pink and yellow sticky notes coming out of all ends in this book. This page is perfect. This is a text I need to send.

There is only one thing you must have to be successful after reading this book.

A cell phone.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wink Alert

Match.com

He just winked at you

Email him now –>

PILOT BOY

I passed right over his catchy headliner and went straight to the profile picture. Soft brown hair swooped to the side, ray bans on, beaming smile, sailing in the ocean. Oh, please take me with you!

I winked back and sent an email. We exchanged phone numbers and texted back and forth. I was golden now with the text messaging – I’m not usually a rule follower but this one was working.

I found out that he was from Miami. Oh great, another Miami Boy? I figured I have nothing to lose I was going to give it a try.

Where do you think I suggested to meet up? You guessed right, YOLO.

Maybe I should have been a little more creative, but he asked me to pick the place and I am a creature of habit. I received the text message “What time would be best to meet for dinner?” We were already off to a better start then the original “Miami boy”.

We decided to meet on a Thursday night; I don’t discriminate to only weekend dates. I know it may be a school night for some, but I’m on the search for love people. To me, any day that ends in “Y” can be a date day.

It can’t be this easy can it? Nope. I am about to meet up with a handsome man who flies planes, has a college education, a smile that could light up any room, and adorable family portrait on his profile that I can just insert myself right into the corner for next year’s Christmas card.

By now you know a little bit of how I operate; the outfit was chosen two nights prior to the date. Thursday morning came and I woke up to get ready for work.

I told you I don’t sing, so I wrote you all a poem.

IM ABOUT TO CRY

IM MEETING THIS GUY

WHY OH WHY

IS THERE A STY ON MY EYE

SIGH

I thought to myself “This was not happening!”But it was. If I was not as blind as a bat, this would be no problem; but I couldn’t NOT wear my contacts! There was no way I was showing up on this date wearing my “Glee” inspired, Mark Salling, dorky, run into CVS incognito, thick-black-framed glasses.

One contact? OK!

I drove to Ft. Lauderdale wearing only one contact. I can’t stay that this situation was one of my best judgment moments but good thing that this is a no judgment zone. Blurry vision wasn’t going to stop this girl.

I got to the restaurant and he was waiting at the hostess stand for me. He looked exactly like his pictures, that is, from what I could actually see. Sport coat with a button down on, jeans and dress shoes. He had made a reservation. Clean up on isle 5 we have a melted heart.

What a wonderful date. A full 3 hours where the conversation, and the drinks flowed. Chemistry and sparks were flying in the air. I played off the one contact condition quite well, smiled, laughed and enjoyed every moment on the date.

He told me that his schedule the following week was extremely busy so he wanted to make plans for that upcoming Saturday. He told me he would call me and let me know what the plans were and he was going to surprise me. You had me at surprise. I mean, you had me at hello.

On the one contact in my eye drive home, I had already decided.

Red velvet cake at the reception with a butter cream frosting.

(KIDDING GUYS!)

Just say “No!” to Rugs, Plugs & Comb-overs

shesucksatfishing — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 18:34:19 +0000

BALD BOY

I should have been featured on Jay-Z’s hit song “On to the next one” We move, we groove, can’t stop won’t stop. Get it get it.

On to the next.

Two dates in a row we have name changes for the boys. Bald boy was first called Lawyer boy. Two lawyers in a row, winning streak or losing streak, you decide.

His profile looked great; a tall, young, Jewish, lawyer living in Boca Raton. Should we just yell B-11 now? BINGO!

We spoke for a few days and decided to meet for dinner. He asked me if I wanted to go anywhere in particular. I figured I wouldn’t see break-a-date boy again so I suggested we go to the Yard House. (In the top 10 remember?) The hair and makeup was to perfection. We met on a Friday night, I was prepared and dressed to impress!

He texted me before I got there telling me where he was sitting. How nice was that, I wasn’t going to have to do that creepy cat and mouse search when I got there. I parked my car and walked into the Yard House like I owned the place. Normally in the life of Lindsay, I would have tripped over something trying to make a grand entrance and make a fool of myself; but I was in the clear.

I spotted the table from a-far where he told me he was sitting. Ready for my word bubble?

Talk about complete falsification of profile pictures. The tall, young, Jewish, lawyer living in Boca Raton was BALD!

I’m not talking Mr. Clean bald, I’m talking, no hair from the top of his head to the middle of the back and then a full head of hair from the middle to the neck.

WILL MY CHEERLEADERS PLEASE STAND UP

(U-G-L-Y you ain’t got no alibi, you ugly, yeah yeah, you ugly)

When it comes to my stance on “baldness” it’s either all or nothing, don’t save what little you have left. I have nothing against bald guys, I would take home Howie Mandel any day of the week.

Some girls may not want to continue on with the date, but I would never be rude and leave, that’s just not my style; plus, I was hungry.

I sat down at the table and we introduced ourselves, with the usual “it’s so nice to meet you” chit chat. The waiter came up to the table, “Can I get you two anything to start with?” I said “A DRINK!”

What I really wanted was a bottle of wine, but that probably wouldn’t have ended well. I thought to myself, I had the rule of not meeting anyone for just a drink so this was the 1 hr out of my life that I could take to get to know someone. Wrong, try 2½ hours, I should have went for the bottle.

We were still in the blonde month and the first thing that he said to me was “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to have blonde hair, you don’t look like you could be a blonde in your pictures.” What I should have said was, “Oh, well I was expecting HAIR, because in your profile pictures you actually had some”. What I really said was, “Well, I like to change things up sometimes.”

At this point I knew the man across the table from me was not the one I had totally envisioned in the peanut butter isle at the grocery store, but I was going to make the best of it.

First he said he wanted to share an appetizer. He asked me to pick and I said spinach artichoke dip. I didn’t care about spinach getting stuck in my teeth what-so-ever. It was a pretty busy night and the appetizer alone took about 45 minutes. He didn’t ask me one question, he talked all about his family, his sister who was still in law school, and his life growing up as a true “Floridian”. Every time I tried to mention something about my family he would turn the conversation always back to him, self-centered much? After 30 minutes I made my first bathroom escape. I didn’t even have to go to the bathroom, I just stood in there. SOMEBODY.PLEASE.SAVE.ME.

He talked most of the time which allowed me just to nod my head, take sips of my wine and get that cheesy goodness onto some crusty bread. Pretty sure I made a mess all over my lap, you can’t take me anywhere.

Then, he said he wanted to order dinner, sounds good to me. I open the menu again. Truffle Mac & Cheese, score. There was going to be no sharing here; I didn’t even offer before we ordered. Another 40 minutes passed by, and I had to listen to him talk about the questions on the BAR exam, his daily routine, and his weekly work schedule. This was the longest date of my life. Another bathroom escape, I wondered if he noticed. This time I texted every single person on my favorite list and told them I was in agony on this date.

The dinner finally came and I thought he was going to slow down on the talking but that didn’t stop him. 20 minutes later, I looked down and my entire bowl of Mac & Cheese was gone; I ate it like I was going to go to jail the next day.

I was ready to get out of there. He said “let’s get dessert.”

Now listen guys, dessert is one of my favorite words in the English dictionary, but he was mind-numbing, I was full and this date needed to be over.

I politely said no thank you, I had to get going. I was leaving for Miami the next day to visit my cousin but I told him I was going to leave that night instead.

He insisted on walking me to my car, and held my hand the entire way. The guy just did buy me a really nice meal so the least I could do was hold his hand.

Maybe match.com wasn’t the right dating site for him, I should have suggested www.datingbaldmen.com