At the end of the last post, I was convinced that Mr. Nice Guy was one of those people that would totally use me and toss me aside, and that he had done something to that very effect. To combat the feelings of self disgust that that (irrationally) caused, I started talking to a new guy: The Investment Broker. He and I had made plans to meet on Sunday, and he’d surpassed my conversation test by keeping my attention in a phone conversation for over an hour.
But thus far it has not meant to be for me to meet him.
What’s more, I don’t feel particularly bad about it.
And to make things more interesting, I had a third date with Mr. Nice Guy.
Yeah. It turns out he really did have a work crisis that had kept him at work until the wee hours for several nights in a row. He called me because I sent him a text telling him I had a question whenever he had a moment. We talked while he was hiding in a dark room (I imagine it was some sort of closet or something) on a Sunday.
The same Sunday I was supposed to meet the Investment Broker face to face for the first time.
So what happened there?
Well… While the Investment Broker and I’d had a decent conversation, and he’d made me laugh a bit, there was no pressing desire to see him. In our conversation, I could hear him mentally ticking boxes, and it made me nervous.
If you remember, I fought hard to keep the Boy because he had met all my requirements. He ticked all the right boxes, and, even once it became super obvious that he and I weren’t compatible, I kept trying to make it work. Hell, I kept trying to make it work even after he TOLD me he didn’t really want it to work.
Because of an imaginary list of qualifications that I thought he met.
So when, at one point in our 90+ minute talk, I recognized the checklist box ticking, I was nervous. I even pointed it out to him.
And now that I think about it, I’m not sure he actually addressed the concern. That could have ended badly…
There were a few other things that he did that kind of put me off of him a little bit. But then again, I don’t know if I’ve met a guy yet who hasn’t had at least some small thing that bothers me.
Mr. Nice Guy, for instance, has small ears, I think. It’s not noticeable when we’re in the same space, but in some of the pics he’s shown me, they seem very noticeably too small for the shape of this head. And he’s almost callously abrupt. I’m not sure he thinks about anything before it comes out of his mouth. Like he commented negatively about my favorite author… right after I mentioned that I really enjoy her work!
Of course, his bluntness has it’s ups as well. The fact that he is so very blunt about things makes me believe him when he says that I look amazing. Which he said several times during our date last night. But we’ll get back to that momentarily…
The Investment Broker does things like play up a stereotype in order to make his neighbors uncomfortable and then shocks them by showing that he’s intelligent and knows about money. I even got the impression that he might use the shock value as a way to get new clients.
Kudos for working hard, and kudos for (in a roundabout way) fighting against racism, but I really don’t like stereotypes. It actually annoys me when someone chooses to act in a stereotypical manner. I don’t judge a person based on their skin tone, but I do judge a person based on how they choose to be perceived, and a person who would prefer to purposefully adopt an ignorant persona and perpetuate a racial stereotype, and then use that stereotype to get money… Well, that I have an issue with.
But even still, I wanted to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and go out with him.
His invitation for Sunday was supposed to be a casual watching of a game. In a place where he was very comfortable. One I had never been to before and was thus uncertain as to how much things would cost.
See, I have a general rule of not expecting a man to pay. I like to have some cash handy so that, on the off-chance that he decides not to pay for me, I need to have the money to cover it. Some of my guy friends would probably tell you this isn’t always true, but even if they end up paying for me, I end up feeling guilty for it. I really don’t like being a mooch, though I sometimes find myself in that role as I’m just not good with money. It’s one of those imaginary things, like time, that really messes me up intellectually. Either way, I don’t go on a date unless I have enough money to cover myself, or I’m 100% certain that the money won’t be an issue.
And Sunday was just a little too far before payday for me to be comfortable with not knowing how expensive things were going to be.
He does live in the Heights, after all…
For those of you not familiar with Houston, the Heights is the very rich, Hipster neighborhood. When I went with a friend of mine and her kids to have a picnic in the park in that area, she asked me to stash her McDonald’s in my Starbucks bag because the uppity women at the park would judge her for going to McDonald’s. And while McDonald’s isn’t exactly the healthiest or most expensive of places, it is at least a tiny bit tasty, kids LOVE it, and, frankly, it wasn’t anybody’s damned business where my very wonderful friend, who is a single mother of two very rapidly growing boys, chooses to get her food.
The Heights is where the moneyed half lives, and he invited me to a bar in that area. Three days before payday…
Yeah, I should have never agreed to the date for those reasons alone!
So I rescheduled for tonight.
And then, because things went so well with Mr. Nice Guy yesterday, I canceled tonight’s date, too.
Yeah, I know. Could have been great! But it just didn’t seem like a good idea.
For one thing I’m not (as one of my coworkers says) “feeling him.” And apparently that’s okay. While I can tick several boxes for him (he has a good job, and is obviously a provider, and he is attractive), and he was ticking some for me (can cook, decent vocab, etc.), I’m just not excited about him, and I think I should be…
For another, the date with Mr. Nice Guy went really, really well, and I actually felt a little guilty about having a date with someone else the very day after I had had tea with Mr. Nice Guy. Several cups of tea.
So, lesson learned (hopefully). I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
The Boy would love to hear that, seeing as he accuses me of that very thing when we argue. Every time we argue…
We’ll see how things go from there. So we’re back to hurry up and wait.