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Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas

It’s time for two Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas. More and more, I am asked questions about Internet dating. In the grocery store, when I’m picking up my dry cleaning, at my aerobics class, by email, on Facebook, Twitter, and even at my daughter’s middle school. I guess once you’ve been on over 250 online first dates, you get to be known as something of an expert.

I am happy to help. For one thing, I don’t think anyone should have to go through what I did. Dating stalkers and lawyers is not a great deal of fun. Secondly, if vicariously we can learn through the mistakes of others who are experts, then isn’t that better? I mean, the self-help book industry is making millions off of it for a reason.

So here are two Happy Hour Dating Dilemmas (they are two-for-ones), and I plan to feature two more every couple of weeks. Of course the names and identifying details are changed to protect the innocent and, sometimes, the very very guilty.

Dear Tiia,

I have been corresponding with a girl from one of the online dating services. We seem to have quite a bit in common, so we set up a time to meet. Then, out of nowhere, in an email she asked me, “Do you think you’ll like me? What happens if you don’t like me? What do you see happening at our first date?” Her picture seems fine (though that’s not the most important thing to me), and she has many good qualities like a sense of humor and intelligence, but this put me off. I’m not sure how to respond. Do you think she’s looking for a one-night stand?

Signed,

Worried William

Double W,

She sounds really insecure more than anything. I doubt that she’s looking for a one-night stand. I DO think that it’s really bad Internet dating etiquette, however, on her part for exactly the reasons you’ve described. It makes her seem desperate which is never attractive and is confusing. You have two choices: try to reassure her and go ahead with the date or back out now and consider this a red flag. I know which one I’d pick. But then, I’ve seen a lot of flags.

Tiia

Dear Tiia,

I really would like to start online dating. I have been divorced for over three years, and I’m a single mom. I’m attractive and well-educated. But I don’t know how to write the profile and I’m scared of getting rejected. Help!

Nurse Nightengale

Night,

For one thing, in the US today as many marriages are begun on the Internet as in church (one-fifth). What are you waiting for? What is the worst thing that can happen? You don’t meet someone? Well, you already AREN’T meeting someone! So…duh, this is a no-brainer.

Believe me, there are so many men out there who want to meet you or someone like you. It takes courage and determination, but so does raising kids on your own and you’re doing that. So either watch another episode of “iCarly” and feel sorry for yourself, or start writing that profile.

As for that profile, remember my adage, “Online dating is a lot like a job interview and should be treated as such.” The dating profile is similar to the job application. You want to present yourself in as positive a light as possible without lying. Save the reptile collection and acid reflux for later…much later. You are marketing a product--yourself. In that respect, you are writing advertising copy for a very desirable person so your profile copy should be catchy, funny, intelligent, and warm. Above all, it should NOT have spelling or grammar errors. For more on profile writing check out the relevant article on the Discussion tab of my Facebook Page or email me. Good luck and happy dating!

Tiia

And now, the results of the latest blog survey. The question was, “As a single parent, how do you approach dating someone with/without children,” and the results surprised me.

• 42.9%  don’t screen potential dates based on whether or not they have kids but on other factors
• 28.6% prefer potential mates who have kids but if other factors are great they’d consider dating them
• 28.6% also said that they prefer daters who do not have kids but if other factors are great they’d give it a try
• 28.6% (a three-way tie) said that it really just depends on the individual person.
• 14.3% reported that they only date people who have children.
• 0% said they only date men/women who do not have children

A new survey starts this week, and the topic is: First Date Pet Peeves! Please make sure to register your vote.

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

Nurse picture courtesy of gryphonscry.wordpress.com

Dating Raj (Guest Post)

Today we have a special guest post from fellow single mom and author Swati Bharteey. Swati is working on a book that shares real-life stories about all sorts of single moms from all over the US. I so enjoy her writing and you can see some of of the warm, entertaining, and sensitive snapshots into single mom life on her blog. She is writing today about a dating experience, and I so appreciate her taking the time out of her day to share a story I think every single mom dater can relate to. It’s a bit long, but well worth the read!

I am so honored to be featured on Tiia’s blog today! I’m a 42 year-old single mom with an eight year old daughter (that’s code for chatty, bossy , little mini-me who believes she’s the Lion King)…anywhatever, she’s grown on me so I am keepin’ her! I thought it may be fun to share a dating tale with you today. This particular crooked turn took place in my life just after my divorce, when my daughter was just 3. I hope you enjoy the read - and thanks again Tiia for having me at your blog!

Swati

I had just moved into a new apartment building with my three-year-old daughter a few weeks ago when we received a little flyer saying that the building was hosting a social hour for all residents. I decided we should go down and be neighborly – why not start my single mom life with some new people in my life? We got some munchies and then my daughter and I settled down at a table. A few people came by to chat and it was nice to socialize without any pressure.

Soon a guy sat down at our table and introduced himself. His name was Raj (thirty-three, never married, nice looking, great physique) and he was a surgeon. Raj was very friendly and he had moved into the building a few months before us. We chatted casually for a bit but after about fifteen minutes, I started to get up, explaining that I needed to get my daughter to bed. Surprising me, Raj quickly invited my daughter and me to dinner the next evening. I said yes and realized how nice it was to feel welcomed on our new turf.

My daughter an I headed into our nighttime routine - which consisted of me trying to connect with my pillow as soon as possible while my daughter tried to keep making cutie pie faces at me so she could stay up later. He sure was brave, I thought, to invite both of us over even though he didn’t know us too well. However, I couldn’t tell if he was being neighborly and nice or if he was interested in me in some way. Either way, I knew I was looking forward to it. But it would be nice to meet someone you really liked in your own building, wouldn’t it? Especially within a couple of weeks of moving in? That would be a great story to tell my grandkids someday. I would smile and say that my daughter and I had gone down to the social casually, and then Raj sat down, and then we sparked, and then we bought a house, and then…

The next day, I bolted out of work at 5:00pm sharp, battled the hurricane that is downtown Chicago traffic, picked up my little angel from school, and quickly stopped to get a box of chocolates for Raj. We got home, I threw on some jeans, freshened my makeup, and we headed up the elevator to Raj’s place. I still hadn’t figured out if he was really interested in me or not; and though I had no new data from which to make any conclusions, I kept wondering about it, because why would I let the absence of facts stop me? The magic of a potential crush had tickled the inside of my stomach all day.

We got to Raj’s door; he opened it and immediately reached over and literally gave my daughter’s head a few awkward puppy-like-pats. Three-year-olds don’t care for this very much and my daughter glared up at him (actually I don’t think any human cares for this much). Raj didn’t notice and asked us in. Ok, we were off to a…start.

Though his apartment was just 900 square feet, Raj spoke on turbo volume when he addressed my not-at-all-hearing-impaired child (she didn’t care for that either). And when he did it, I kept jumping a little because it was so startling. I realized that Raj had absolutely no idea how to speak or interact with kids. I was tempted to tell him that he could speak to her normally, not right in her little face, not on EXTRA LOUD, not through me, just normally. But it felt a little rude. Alright, I’m sure he’ll talk in a normal voice very, very soon, I thought kindly, generously, magnanimously. He probably isn’t around kids much and he’s probably a bit nervous. Maybe I’ll ask him about something in his comfort zone, like his work. That should put him at ease.

Me: “So, Raj, what kind of surgeon are you?”

Raj: “I’m a pediatric surgeon. I specialize in cleft palettes.”

A pediatric surgeon who didn’t know how to talk to or be around kids? What strange worm hole had I entered? Clearly the anesthesiologists did their work before Raj ever saw the children! Thankfully, my little miss seemed engrossed in the crayons and coloring book I had brought along.

The meal itself went fine; he was a pretty good cook and both my daughter and I enjoyed to food. But, now that I had opened the spigot, Raj couldn’t stop talking about how successful he was and how mature he was for his age. I asked about travel, books he had read, hobbies. I got a question back about every 25 minutes or so. Raj was clearly adept at continuously weaving one of his stories into the next like an endless piece of yarn. My mind began to wander back to getting my daughter to bed and how many work emails I could get done that night if we left soon.

No butterflies fluttered in my tummy; even they were tired of hearing Raj talk about Raj.

I told Raj I had a conference call that night (such a lie) and we left. The next day, as I contemplated what time I should call to thank him so we wouldn’t have to talk, (I still had manners), my phone rang. It was Raj and he told me in one long sentence that he had a great time last night and he would love to have me over again alone on Friday night. I was so surprised - hadn’t he noticed I wasn’t paying attention to him last night? Couldn’t he tell he was boring people with his live self-indulgent dissertations? Wow. That was amazing.

But not as amazing as my response – because before I could think, I said yes! Hearing my own response made me shiver a little. What was wrong with me? We hung up and I thought, well, anyone can have a bad first date; and in fairness, we hadn’t been alone. Maybe he was just jittery? I think I heard my gut groan a little.

So, Friday came and I found myself kind of looking forward to it as the memory of our first dinner had faded a bit, allowing me to sprinkle fairy dust on it. It was nice to have someone make dinner for me, twice in one week at that; and he was nice looking and smart. Maybe that first night was nerves; after all, I reasoned, people talk a lot when they are nervous. Plus it made me a little giddy to get some male attention. I came home from work, did the super-mom-can-get-ready-in-15-minutes-flat beautification routine, and headed up to Raj’s’s place.

When I got there, I found that he had set up dinner for us on his balcony - candles, music, everything. Ok, he was definitely interested. And I found it very romantic. This evening was starting out much better. I smiled.

His volume dial was on “normal” so I didn’t jump when he spoke. And he asked me a few more questions – though he was still intrigued with himself. I knew it wasn’t a match, but the evening and the sunset were lovely - and I was relaxed. Soon afterwards, we finished eating and Raj offered to massage my shoulders. Hmmm…an opportunity was presenting itself to have a great make-out session – which I hadn’t had in a long time. I thought, why not? I wasn’t falling for him, and he was falling for himself (again). Raj was completely taken with flexing his wares for me – and he was a busy, busy, very important, specialist in his field, so this couldn’t go anywhere, right? Lighten up, I thought, and have fun. You don’t want to see him again – so you won’t. What’s a little kissing?

Regrettably, Raj was better at flexing his muscles than knowing how to use them. Ahem. All I want to say is that a kiss can be very, very sensual, unless you stick your tongue in and out of a girl’s mouth repeatedly, as stiff as a board. Bend. Flex. Be a little loose! And, while I walked away thinking “Ok, that so didn’t scratch the itch,” Raj, it turns out, fell for me. I felt terrible and guilty (sometimes I hate being a girl). I couldn’t say “please don’t call” because it felt mean. Like any mature independent woman, I chose instead to avoid his calls and chatter through any shared elevator rides so he couldn’t speak much. His calls stopped after I moved out. Five months later. Not my best idea.

Venn Diagram of Online Daters

Odds of meeting one of the guys in the middle = very small. And still, throw salt over your shoulder for me and be on the look-out for lucky pennies. I’m going in.

The Teacher Fantasy or Use What You Got

It has come to my attention that all men have a teacher fantasy. Most of the men I have dated have confessed that the fact that I’m a teacher is a turn-on to them. I don’t know why this is really. Maybe it’s a little like my weird fascination with lawyers or when I was young I used to think I wanted to marry a manager of McDonald’s—but I grew out of that, thank goodness.

At any rate, the hot for teacher thing is strange but pervasive. Van Halen made a killing off the idea. It is possible that, when boys are young and impressionable, that first attractive female who has power over them in the classroom becomes some sort of symbol of female sexuality—even though she has done nothing overtly to invite this sort of attention.

It may be politically incorrect to say this, but early in my Internet dating years I decided to use this power for good not evil. I mean, I’m not blessed with the body of Beyonce so no one’s marrying me for my booty, and I’m not as rich as Paris Hilton so nobody’s going to marry me for that booty either. Furthermore, while I’m intelligent and sometimes witty, there is really nothing that stands out about me in a crowd. I am pretty, in a teacher kind of way.

But…there is that teacher thing. And I’m all about using what you got. Is this sexist or wrong? Maybe, but then the fact that teachers have to deal with fifty-seven emails from the same parent asking why little Johnny’s getting a “C” when her baby has never gotten a “C” is also wrong and we have to do that all the time.

We also have to do things like monitor bathroom breaks, serve breakfast (I went to college all those years to say do you want another biscuit?), and listen to accounts of parents getting arrested, grandmothers taking their teeth out, and students’ gender identity crises. All of which end in, “now go sit down.”

It ain't all crepe paper and scissors. It’s a hard job.

Don’t get me wrong. Next to my daughter and family, I love my job best. Even the worst day teaching is better than my best day doing any other job.

But I’m not above using what I’ve got if it helps me to land that fabulous combination of Vin Diesel, Will Smith, Gerald Butler, and Ronald Reagan, then so be it. I’ll whore myself out make sacrifices if necessary for the cause.

At least I don’t do what this German teacher did—and she didn’t even get fired! I warn you, the linked video is a bit racy. You know those teachers…

Why I Don't Date Men Without Children

I am very honored today to be featured as a guest blogger on the very talented Swati Bharteey’s wonderful blog The Single Mother's Chronicles with a story called The Incident of the Wagon or Why I Don’t Date Men Without Children.

I’ve enjoyed Swati’s Blog very much as it features a variety of articles, both about her life and about the lives of other single moms. I especially like how she frequently gives you a snapshot about a poignant moment in a single mother’s life. Take a look—you won’t be sorry you did. There is also a link to her blog on my home page (in addition to the link above).

So when she asked me to give her a guest post, I decided to tell a story of my own. It involves a childless lawyer, a red wagon, a broken arm, and a ravine. Please check it out and let me know your thoughts.

 http://tiny.cc/2yrcr

Thanks Swati for the invitation.

All I Really Need to Know

One of my favorite essays is from a book by Robert Fulghum. The book and the essay are called "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" and it contains many important nuggets of wisdom like put things back where you found them, take a nap every afternoon, and everything dies someday. It’s served me well.

However, I’d have to say that in dating, all I really need to know I did NOT learn in Kindergarten, but in Middle School. Since my daughter Leah is currently in Middle School, it gives me time to reflect on this important process. Watching her go through the difficult and sometimes painful lessons—without being able to lend the wisdom of my years—makes me realize that the way we relate to the opposite sex and how we think about them was not learned in our families or in grade school, but during the awkward period of adolescence. When we are covered with acne and the girls are taller than the boys, when a wayward glance can ruin our entire life let alone day, that is where we glean our meager knowledge of love.

Here is what I’ve learned (with help from my beautiful assistant Leah).

All I Really Need to Know (about dating) I Learned in Middle School:

• Boys (or girls, depending) will come and go, but your friends and family will not. Stay loyal to them.
• Opposites do NOT attract.
• No matter what they might say, most boys are not [completely] liberated. They don’t like pushy girls.
• Breaking up is, in fact, very hard to do. It is also very necessary. Doing it compassionately (not by email or text and by being as honest as possible) is a skill, no less than kissing or texting while walking.
• That sweet, nerdy guy might grow up to be a CEO of a company and friend you on Facebook someday. It pays to be nice to everyone.
• Bad guys are very sexy—this is true when you are 13, 23, and 33. I don’t know about 43 yet, but I’ll let you know.
• Kind of like algebra, a lot of attraction doesn’t really make sense. But if you don’t feel "that thing" within the first three hours of a date, you’ll never feel it so move on.
• Girls and boys are usually speaking two different languages. It’s like one is taking Spanish and one is taking French. Or Klingon. (Please Trekkies I’m begging you to watch this short video for me!)
• Stalker = Not Sexy
• You can’t change someone by dating them. Like Popeye used to say, “I am what I am.” Being with them won’t change you either so don’t look for a rescuer.
• Like Middle School, dating is an opportunity to experience many different people and events. You aren’t locked into any of them any more than you have to become a carpenter because you took shop. Try it out! Enjoy the ride.
• Other kids/adults can be very mean. There are girl and boy bullies alike, and they will use opportunities to exploit your weaknesses. Don’t let them.
• Finally, remember the most important rule of Middle School and of a date—it’s only temporary.

The New New Family Feud

I had family visiting last week and we were watching the New Family Feud which reminded me that my sisters and I used to love that show years ago. We would watch it every day and try to figure out the answers; we dreamt of the day that our family would go on the show for “big money.” In reality, it probably would have been an experience more like that of the family’s below:

Name a three letter animal: alligator

Taking ten diverse family members sightseeing for a week inspired my idea for an all-new, New Family Feud show that would be far more challenging than the original. Sort of a cross between Survivor and Family Feud. It would go something like this:

Take ten family members, at least one of whom must be a teenager, and at least two of whom must be over the age of 65, and take them to various sightseeing destinations in a city.

Your budget will be low, and everyone will be concerned about how much money is being spent which makes the stakes of the game higher.

At least one person will have to go to the bathroom at all times.

One person’s plane will be early and two people will miss their connecting flights which will completely ruin the intricate logistical schedule that has been emailed ahead of time, but which no one bothered to read.

No matter what you decide to do, two people will say that, “they don’t care for it.”

At least one person will be hungry at all times. Two family members are vegetarians, one is lactose-intolerant, and one only eats organic.

All members of the family have their own digital cameras and/or cell phone cameras with which they will want to record every memorable event. It will be impossible to get every person looking in the correct direction because there are so many lenses.

When trying to decide what to do next, there will be no consensus due to the varied opinions of the group. Every decision will take a polling of the group, a T-Chart of the pros and cons, and a complex statistical sampling of three guidebooks.

There will be one family member waxing philosophic about politics at inappropriate times…loudly. This adds an element of suspense and possible drama to the game.

The teenager will be texting while walking which may cause potential traffic and/or other accidents. If confronted, she will roll her eyes repeatedly and text how mean u r 2 her bffs.

No less than three comments must be made about embarrassing things each person did in their youth. Bonus points are given for naked stories or stories involving transvestites or midgets.

To keep things fair, the older members of the group can and should form coalitions against the younger members. In this way, they can form a more powerful voting block when confronted with new-fangled technologies such as GPS, Facebook, texting, Twitter, and Foursquare. 

Two family members will receive traffic violations during the course of the week because of their haste to perform so well at the game.

Hotel rooms will never have key cards that are activated. The elevators may or may not work and this will create anxiety and plot tension. Hotel management will be less than responsive, and will definitely never have soy milk or whole-wheat bagels.

Lack of sleep from playing the game will make all family members somewhat grumpy which will reduce their overall effectiveness.

At the end of the week, if you all make it through alive and you still like each other, you win a fabulous prize. We did, and the survey says…I love my family!

 

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

Booty Call Man--Strings Attached

PROFILE    Denny1968 Enjoying all that life has to offer! Active within 2 days  30-year-old-man Colorado Springs, CO United States Seeking women 25-35 Within 30 miles of Albuquerque, NM, United States Relationships: Divorced Have Kids: No Want Kids: Not sure Ethnicity: Caucasian Body type: About average  Height: 6’0” Hair Color: Light brown  Eye Color: Blue Smoke: No way Drink: Regularly Education Level:  High School My Job: Labor/construction Interests: Music & concerts, , fishing and hunting, reading, watching sports, camping, hiking, woodcarving, travel (US)

My friend Wombat at Kiss & Blog recently posted on the idea that women sometimes have difficulty allowing themselves pleasure because they tend to self-flagellate and there are double standards. It sparked off an interesting discussion from both men and women about how differently the two genders perceive sexual encounters. That got me to thinking about booty calls.

A word on booty calls. There is nothing wrong with booty calls. Casual sex for the sake of casual sex has its time and place. In fact, I am all for it if done safely and sanely and, preferably, somewhat soberly. The problem with booty calls is that from a woman’s perspective, it is frequently difficult to limit the sex to its impersonal nature. I don’t know if this is because society dictates that women are not allowed to have booty calls or if we as women begin to project some deeper emotion than is warranted by the detached nature of the dirty deed.

But I decided to find myself a booty call man. Call it comfort food. I deserve it, I told myself. Leah’s anxiety had become so bad that I couldn’t even leave her in the nursery while I worked out at the gym; they’d come and find me because she was hyperventilating. On the other hand, when we would pray together at night before bed, she’d say, “Dear Jesus, please send me a new Daddy so I won’t be scared anymore.” I’d stand in the doorway of her room so she wouldn’t see me crying. I wanted to produce one. If only it were that easy.

But I found myself wanting something totally different. I wanted someone I could have sex with for a couple of hours and never see again. I found a guy whose picture looked really good, but his narrative revealed that he was none too intelligent. He met very few of my rules, and we had almost nothing in common (I mean, camping, woodcarving, labor/construction?). He was perfect! I shipped Leah off to the babysitter’s house—and I was ready for action.

My first major mistake in this booty call catastrophe was that I had him come to my house. This goes against every rule of safe Internet dating that I now know and that is available for anyone who has a computer. Those guidelines simply did not exist then. Actually, now that I think about it, it doesn’t even make good common sense so I must have really wanted to get laid.

As I was waiting for him to arrive, I was trying to concentrate on the book I was reading while at the same time maintaining a seductive pose lying on the couch (think Cleopatra). Finally, I could see car lights approaching the back gate of my townhouse and I glanced up to see a camper trailer parking in the free visitor space. Now this was an interesting development. I didn’t really anticipate the hot booty call guy would be driving a camper trailer, but what was I to do now?

He parked and knocked at the back door and I let him in. We wasted little time on small talk and informalities, but got right down to business. I guess when you email someone to come over to your house at 9:00 on a Friday night they know what you are interested in. The casual sex was, well, casual. It was quick and expedient and less than satisfying. Kind of like those Slimfast shakes you’re supposed to drink to replace meals.

Then either society or my sensitive woman side kicked in and I wanted it to be more than it was. “Can’t you stay the night,” I said and I wasn’t even sure if I could believe the words were coming out of my own mouth. Did I remember this guy drove a camper trailer which he very likely lived in?

He looked at me steadily as he pulled on his Levi’s. “I don’t think so. I have to get back to the campground or I’ll lose my spot.”

I knew it! What the hell was I thinking? My head had no control over my mouth at this point. “Well can we see each other again?” and even I could hear a bit of a plaintive whine creeping into my voice.

“I thought this was just sex,” he said and now he looked away as he buttoned his shirt.

Yeah me too buddy but apparently my mouth didn’t get the message. “Yeah OK,” I said. It sounded flat, however, and he looked at me with the slightest tinge of sympathy before giving me a quick hug.

As he drove away, I silently prayed to the gods of dating that he would forget where I lived and never, ever tell anyone what had transpired here tonight.

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones