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Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
"No, really!"

My Favorite Bit of Paper Cup Philosophy

The Way I See It #76

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

You Didn't Pass the Audition

You know, at the first, he had me. Yes, I was on his side, even though - on paper - this wasn't an ideal match. I'd now had a little dating experience. I wasn't precisely jaded or cynical, but the words "almost spent" come to mind. And while I'd had a few snickers, maybe one or two actual guffaws, never once had I had even a hint of that slight lift of heart and mood that comes when . . . well, I know it comes sometimes. It's happened to me.

He was responsive to e-mails, something to which I attribute perhaps too much merit. He was literate in those e-mails, something of importance to me. On the other hand, he showed no symptoms of the great sense of humor I value. His look wasn't dead-on, and may I elaborate on that, please? In all my life I've never weighed going out with a man based on his extreme good looks. No male models needed here. I have written about being blown away at age 15 when I met a young man who turned out to be gorgeous. I'd never considered that possibility, but only wanted to get to know him whom I'd met and so enjoyed in conversation on the telephone. "Gorgeous" was an unexpected delight. Following my long and bitter divorce, someone important in my life referred to Ex as an "ugly fuck" and I went off! Oh, yes, an alcoholic who ruined his health and was not an ideal spouse to me - guilty. Ugly? Maybe to you, but not to me. So, while there are some deal-breakers, such as the man who looked identical to Stepfather in his latest years, mostly I accept people as they look, within wide reason. Bald? Not a problem. Large nose? Likely OK. Physique imperfect? Let's talk about that, because I am an imperfect person, too. Generally, if I reject a possibility based on looks, it relates more to attitude projected by the look than actual physical traits.

So, he suggested a coffee house that was located 2 blocks from my office and I thought, "Well, that's pretty easy. I drink coffee, anyway." He looked average in his photos: height, weight, hair, coloring. He was age appropriate and able to converse about a variety of topics. He worked in an industry I knew nothing about and I was going to mark that down as a plus - I could learn something new. He owned a car and had that job (so he said), putting him miles ahead of some Las Vegans who put themselves on the open market. The car claim might be put to partial proof when I arrived at Starbucks, providing he hadn't borrowed one. Yes, I would meet for coffee.

When I pulled into the parking lot and left my car, I glanced around, tidied my shirt and slacks and immediately received a text message. "I'm already inside. Your coffee awaits you." Oh. All right. That's nice, though I felt just a touch odd being watched through the window. But that's what one might get when meeting in public places. As I walked in and aimed for the table, he stood up to greet me - nice. Lots of men don't do that any longer. He'd got my coffee correctly and I sat down to a nice conversation. I knew quickly that there weren't going to be any fireworks on my side, and I didn't know him well enough to know if he would experience any. I hoped not, since I couldn't be reciprocal. But we talked congenially about things the other knew nothing about, each seeming to be interested in what the other had to say. I'm not sure we could have been much less likely matched, but that was OK. If I was west, he was east, I read, he watched TV, etc. We agreed to a second cup of coffee, neither with a gun held to our head.

Over the second cup, he told me something that many people would not easily share, at least not in a first meeting. He suffered from an acute case of genital herpes of longstanding, resistant to drugs and spread beyond the area one might expect. This did not make me run away or start eyeballing the door. You see, just as I don't judge first on any person's appearance, I do not attach stigma to anyone who has an illness or who has suffered some attack or wrong by another person. There are certain medical descriptions that may ultimately cause me some distress, but I knew a little about this condition and it wasn't harrowing for me to hear. I also knew I wasn't ever going to engage in any activity that would put me in harm's way in that respect. It was safe discussion and I rather credited the man with being straightforward about something many sufferers hide from their associates until it is too late for them to make informed decisions. Besides, maybe it helped him to speak openly about a problem and not be censured. This cost me nothing except the price of the second round of coffee. No, I'm not patting myself on the back for my humanity. I'm suggesting that it costs little to be nonjudgmental.

The second coffee was getting low and I was about to say, "Well, thanks, it was really pleasant to meet you." I wouldn't mislead with any complicated comments. Besides, if he was drooling over me, he hid it well. Agreement is a good way to end a meeting, right? And then he said it. I looked up quickly to make eye contact so I could laugh along with him, though he'd made not one original humorous remark the entire time. "You didn't pass the audition. I'd never go with you. Would you like me to tell you the reasons?" Genuinely floored, I began to sputter, "No, oh no, thanks, but no . . .". Not to be rebuffed, Mr. Herpes told me I was a reject because I was well-traveled (true), well-educated (not as true) and had a job I loved (yes, very true). Though I am rarely at a loss for words, I couldn't think of any response, whether appropriate or idiotic. I began to gather my jacket and purse, not kicking over tables, chairs and cups, but decidedly ready to take my leave. Not really as hip, slick and cool as I'd like to be, as I got into my car, I thought, "Damn me for listening to my mother and Granny again! I thought those were the things I was supposed to reveal."

I regret to say it bothered me. I'm a little sensitive. I work rather hard to be well-liked and admired, though I will not be false. Over time, when I have felt myself in a situation safe enough, I've mentioned this put-down episode to friends. I have trouble saying "arrogant idiot" and stomping off. No, I have to analyze it. "What's wrong with me?" Though Mr. Herpes had left little doubt of what was wrong with me, unless he had more on his list that he didn't spew before I got up to leave. I've landed somewhere pretty solid. Likely his take on me was that I was independent and didn't need him (or anyone else) to fulfill me. That threatens some people or turns them off. They feel  extraneous. But wasn't he taught to keep his mouth shut and simply move on? I guess not. Like I was trying out for the lead in the school play!

Every now and then Facebook lands in my Yahoo mailbox attempting to woo me into their evil game. (I don't and, so far, won't Facebook, for reasons that are my own.) In their offering is a yoo-hoo from seemingly everyone I've ever e-mailed with. "Let's be friends!" Yeah. Uh-huh. Mr. Herpes is invariably in the mix, with a new photo since I met him. His face shows no evidence of having recently been smacked by some angry woman. I'm pleased to see his health is holding out. No, really.

18 comments:

  1. Makes you wonder what it was he was looking for. Those hardly sound like negatives but a bald faced rejection is rather arrogant none-the-less.
    Enjoying your raw anectdotes non-the-less as well. Somehow I think I'm over-hyphenating non-the-less. You are not the lesser for it, simply the Les!
    (...you may notice a wee bit of over-caffein-ation in my comment too)
    xoxo Kim

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  2. @ NuminosityBeads ~ Had a cup of coffee or ten, did you, Kim? ;~} "Arrogant" is the perfect word. Like he wasn't ABOUT to let me escape that Starbucks without him telling me precisely why I was too objectionable for him to go with. Though I have limited information, I'm guessing (based on his list of my defects) he was looking for an ignorant, unemployed gal who had never been off the farm. I am so far removed from that, and I am so straightforward when I talk/write to people that I wonder what he was thinking during our e-mail correspondence. Maybe that I WAS the girl of his dreams but that someone was ghost-writing for me for some reason I cannot fathom? (Said purely tongue-in-cheek.) You're so right-on ~ I can only be the Les. I've sat on these dating stories a long time. Most of them have made me feel "what's wrong with ME?" It feels good to both offload and laugh.

    I love your hyphenation ~ it's all good here, dear.

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  3. Its always best to be open and friendly but something wasn't right about Mr. Herpes.

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  4. @ Beach Bum ~ AH, Sir, you said in one sentence what it took me a complete post to express. Good on you!

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  5. Even the way he said it, "you didn't pass the audition", is arrogant and offensive. Really? Were you supposed to have a skit prepared? What a douche. As if his offering to tell you why would help you in some future way. All it did to help you is to make it that much easier to walk away from his viral ass. Not to be harsh...

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  6. @ CramCake ~ I thank you and the (so far) others so much. Really. I haven't squeaked this tale out to very many people because I have felt like it reveals something bad about me. What, like nobody knows I've been rejected once or twice? Anyway, yet another lesson learned. Not only were my instincts similar to those anyone else would feel, I didn't do anything wrong here or do anything to invite his smarm. I like your phrasing. It must be insider medical talk. "His viral ass . . " I'll use that again.

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  7. No, I take that back.

    What an asshole.

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  8. @ Kirk ~ I thank you for defending my honor, friend. Looking at the time stamps on your comments, it looks like you sat a minute doing the slow burn on my behalf. I love having a team of like minded individuals. ;~}

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  9. I realized that what he probably meant to say was, "you're too good for me".

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  10. @ CramCake ~ You know, there probably IS an element of that in this story, even though I don't think I'm too good for him. We just weren't a match. That doesn't make anyone either a winner or a loser. When I have felt not up-to-speed with someone (we have all experienced that, I am sure), I've tried to make things as short and simple as possible. It's the aggressive quality of this that was the hardest thing for me to process, not that I expect anyone else to have reacted in the same way. But he seemed to feel some aggressive need to point out my shortcomings (as perceived by him, thank you very much) before allowing me to walk those 13 or so steps to the door. I didn't care for it. In the hour we knew each other, I treated him well and he treated me badly.

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  11. What an ass. Not only arrogant, but maliciously so. Pompus.

    "I'm sorry, you aren't ignorant enough for me, you've blown your chances." Sounds like he wasn't looking for any chance of conversation, just fishing for someone who wasn't disgusted by herpes, and wasn't smarter than he was.

    Men like that are why so many women make broad-statement "Men suck" comments, causing me to wonder if I'm the exception... ;)

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  12. Perhaps referring to something that is said specifically by women as a "broad-statement" was a poor choice of words... that was unintentional. I meant wide brush stroke statements.

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  13. @ Matt ~ First, I know enough about your sensibilities to know that "broad-statement" meant "wide brush stroke". No harm done.

    You know, I'm sure there are million righteous men who have been badly treated by women. "Gold digger" and "manipulator" are common descriptions I have heard. But I can only tell my story from my own perspective and experiences. I have not, so far, been known to say "Men suck."

    The other night I was dining with a man and I said I was learning more and more about his species. I pointed to my few posts on the subject of dating. "Run, Les," he said. "They're all bad." I grinned. "Present company excepted?" Very seriously, he said, "I surely hope so." OK. Nice man. Good man. He likes that I'm smarter than a box of rocks. I can tell that. And so it goes . . .

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  14. COMMENT FROM BLOG FRIEND DOOZYANNER WHO STILL HAS BLOGGER ISSUES:

    "you win the prize hands down for meeting The Biggest Loser from a dating site. You didn't pass??? WTF??? And he just shared that he has herpes???"

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  15. @ Doozyanner ~ A man among men, Girlfriend. Makes me feel less self-conscious about that little patch of psoriasis and that toenail infection I've been fighting.

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  16. Les, I am so sorry but reading, as I do, from most recent post to later, I find the smack in the face surprise of this post howl out funny after the smack in the teeth shock of the first post.


    If you write a novel, let this post be its opener - the most perfect surprise ever! I would never have seen that coming - and Mr Herpes - did he even have herpes, or was that part of his test? If you'd set off sprinting you were worth chasing, presumably?


    Unfathomable! And yet, I want to and have the urge to fathom all....

    Brings a whole new bent on the term "sharing"....

    I'd have stretched to a third round of coffee - for the pleasure of soaking him with it...who knows, maybe coffee is a hither-to-as-yet unknown cure for the genital woe...

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  17. @ Rachel ~ I LOVE that everyone finds him as objectionable as I do. I really and truly thought there was something inherently wrong with ME in this escapade. And you make a good point. How do we know he even had herpes? I certainly wasn't going to ask him to prove it. Maybe it was all a part of his diabolical scheme. I get it about wanting to fathom all. Me, too. I want to know all I can know about a situation. Until it is time for me to leave because I suddenly know more than I can cope with. Sadly, if the same thing happened today, I don't know that I'd handle it any better. :~{ When I get kicked in the gut, I stop and say "Ugh!"

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