So, last week, I found myself hitting up Match pretty hard. Normally, I find very little on there which rouses even a smidgen of interest from me; but somehow I wound up talking to several men simultaneously. But, of course, as these things usually go, one by one they all showed their colors pretty fast, and weeded themselves out.
The first described himself (via his Match and Yahoo nicknames) as a “sexy and tall CPA”. (He also happened to be black, which isn’t a mark against him at all, as I acquired “the fever” a couple years ago, and my temperature has yet to recede.)
We chatted a little on IM, and agreed to meet last Thursday night at a local sports bar near my home, at about 6:45 that evening.
I already knew from our conversation that he managed a large accounting department, and they were in the middle of month end close; as someone who spent nearly twenty years in the accounting field, I had a certain amount of sympathy for how much month end sucks. So, I wasn’t terribly surprised when he needed to push off our meeting until 8:15 instead. I simply hit up Eathan to come up there with me earlier, for food and talk, while I waited for the CPA to arrive.
At a few minutes before 8, he texted that he was still about another 30 minutes away, and then called me before I could respond to the text to apologize for the delay. I told him no problem, I was visiting with Eathan and having fun, so all was good.
He finally arrived at, ahem, maybe 8:50. He was definitely tall – upwards of 6’5″ – but I’m not all that sure about the sexy. Once he sat down, I was immediately assaulted by his overpowering cologne, which might have been tolerable had it been a more pleasant scent rather than one which literally caused me to start coughing every time I inhaled. Because of this, I could hardly look directly at him to talk, which I’m sure made me appear to be avoiding eye contact with him.
Eathan had quickly excused himself to go home. I was drinking a vodka and cranberry; CPA ordered a soda. Then, he posed a few follow-up questions to me on a topic we’d touched on earlier (interracial dating, what did we like most and least about it). He asked me where I liked to go dance, then when I mentioned one club I frequent, he wanted to know if it was a black club.
I found the question somewhat amusing. First, because even though the person asking me the question was himself black, I just didn’t think it mattered. Second, because it’s the type of club which identifies itself not by race, but by a particular lifestyle.
I guess he didn’t like me laughing at the question, or maybe he thought I was laughing at him. But shortly after that, he suddenly let out this big sigh, hit the table with his hand, and said, “I’m beat, I need to get my tab,” and then asked where the restroom was (though he claimed to have been there before, and they were right in his line of sight a few feet away).
I sat there in a slight amount of shock – did this guy really just tell me that he was already done with our conversation after barely fifteen minutes, when he’d made me wait most of the evening for him?
He came out, went over to get his tab, came back to tell me he’d taken care of mine too – um, okay, but I’d already paid my tab before he arrived, so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness over him thinking I expected him to pay for the food I’d had earlier. I’m pretty sure my eyebrows went up and I gave him a look of “oh really?”
I walked quickly to my car, pointing out where my Mustang was parked, him trailing behind and mentioning something about where he’d parked his Mercedes. (That felt like an attempt to impress me at first, but later I realized it was probably more about him being too impressed with himself.)
Still saying “WTF?” to myself, I drove home and knocked on Eathan’s door, knowing he’d be way surprised to see me, and he was. I think we both agreed that you don’t make a woman you’re meeting for the very first time wait half an hour only to spend a mere fifteen minutes with her. (And really, since we were originally supposed to meet at 6:45, it’s two hours!)
Eathan also pointed out that, in my case, it really took much more of my time and effort, because I work from home, and one of the big benefits I take advantage of with that is not doing the whole hair and makeup drill every single day. So, when I agree to meet someone, I’m not just swinging by after work like they probably are, already spit-shined up, I have to carve time out of my regular routine just to get presentable.
Now, of course, this isn’t the man’s fault that it takes so much extra effort for me when I decide to meet him. But nevertheless, my time deserves just as much respect as his.
(And, hearing someone else put it this way made me realize that I’d never really done a good job of explaining to the last guy I was seeing why I got so frustrated by his last minute bids for my time, when I’d prefer to have some advance notice so I could look my best for him. In fact, I did a quite terrible job of it, and ended up taking that frustration out on him in a very inappropriate manner. But how I made amends over that situation is a story for another day.)
Another thing that Eathan opined is that sometimes, when certain black men become successful, they develop an attitude of such self-importance that they expect to be overly accommodated. Hmmmmmm. Interesting theory.
Anyway, to wrap up a story that’s gone too long: shockingly (*snark*), I’ve not heard a word out of the CPA since Thursday night – which is actually okay with me, because I also sometimes suck at telling people I’m not interested in them (yes, really, although I know that might sound strange to those who’ve observed my ability at ripping the occasional new asshole for those who deserve it).
There was one positive thing to come out of this: I’ve decided that, on at least a couple of days each week, I’ll take the extra time to get glammed up, regardless of whether or not there’s some man sniffing around. It’s something to do to feel better about myself, and it will also seem like less of an out-of-ordinary event for me when I have to do it for an actual date.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
You didn’t do anything wrong. Brush him off. He wanted someone that was 1/2 up his ass…and was super impressed by him. Stay true to yourself .. that’s the key.
Yeah, not sure how any woman could be half up his ass, when his own head is already occupying the space. ;-)
i thought it was really classy of you to not mention that you already paid your bill. lol…he doesnt sound like he woulda been worth the time and effort it takes to make yourself presentable.