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Eating Out
Jul. 4th, 2012 10:06 amI eat alone.
Maybe it's the place where I live. It could be something in the water, some parasite that gets into people's heads and warps their minds - but when I ask someone if they'd like to eat out with me some time, they assume I'm asking them out on a date, with all the expectations of what follows next.
Women whom I ask out go all "shields up" on me - they have a boyfriend, they are washing their hair, whatever their excuses. And if it's a guy, even if I'm only interested in talking about the possibility of a job or something mundane like that ... oy.
I think people have expectations. If I won a fortune on the lotto tonight, I'd always wonder whether any new-found success in dating was due to people suddenly opening their eyes and realising what they are missing, or whether they were suddenly interested only in the big stack of money following me around everywhere.
I suspect the latter.
You know the worst kinds of date? The ones that suddenly stop you, in the middle of a conversation, and turn to you and say "Never mind all of that. What about sex?" It has happened to me once or twice. I ask the women who are reading this: do you get as knotted inside with revulsion as I do when that happens? When someone you thought was a good date turns around and ruins it all by revealing his or her true colours as an utter vulgarian - and an impatient one, at that?
So these days, I eat alone. I get on the last regular daytime bus and heading for home before the evening bus services start. I don't go out unless I absolutely have to; perhaps I might have some event to attend, a private viewing, a lecture at Glyndwr Uni. Once, I even might have gone to attend a performance of selected arias from an opera.
But I go to these events alone; without expectation. Easier to avoid the entanglements of having to deal with dates who turn out to be douchebags.
Maybe it's the place where I live. It could be something in the water, some parasite that gets into people's heads and warps their minds - but when I ask someone if they'd like to eat out with me some time, they assume I'm asking them out on a date, with all the expectations of what follows next.
Women whom I ask out go all "shields up" on me - they have a boyfriend, they are washing their hair, whatever their excuses. And if it's a guy, even if I'm only interested in talking about the possibility of a job or something mundane like that ... oy.
I think people have expectations. If I won a fortune on the lotto tonight, I'd always wonder whether any new-found success in dating was due to people suddenly opening their eyes and realising what they are missing, or whether they were suddenly interested only in the big stack of money following me around everywhere.
I suspect the latter.
You know the worst kinds of date? The ones that suddenly stop you, in the middle of a conversation, and turn to you and say "Never mind all of that. What about sex?" It has happened to me once or twice. I ask the women who are reading this: do you get as knotted inside with revulsion as I do when that happens? When someone you thought was a good date turns around and ruins it all by revealing his or her true colours as an utter vulgarian - and an impatient one, at that?
So these days, I eat alone. I get on the last regular daytime bus and heading for home before the evening bus services start. I don't go out unless I absolutely have to; perhaps I might have some event to attend, a private viewing, a lecture at Glyndwr Uni. Once, I even might have gone to attend a performance of selected arias from an opera.
But I go to these events alone; without expectation. Easier to avoid the entanglements of having to deal with dates who turn out to be douchebags.
