met date zero on an online dating site. why i joined-thats a WHOLE other story. but date zero really forced me to reassess the scene. let me share my date zero with you, with who we will refer to as, well, Zero. (and yes, pun intended)
long story short. email back and forth for a short while. he says that my profile actually made him laugh, which apparently never happens to him since he is sooooo intelligent and funny himself. okay, zero, thank you for the backhanded compliment. talk for a bit on the phone. he's 32 and sounds like he's 21. he only dates girls in their mid-twenties. {red flag 1. he's an ageist.} apparently, women his age want a man to take care of her and, ultimately, wants marriage. wow, zero, how dare someone want this dating bullshit to end with marriage??? how selfish! he goes on to tell me what a badass he is. {redflag 2. douche.} i would love to give ya'll his full name so you could all google him. he actually told me to google him. mainly so i could see that he was a professional paintballer who was well traveled blah blah blah. thank you, peter pan. grow the fuck up. anyhow, i digress. text back and forth. decide to meet for margaritas at Teala's.
date: i'm running late. had to pick up meds for my dad. valid excuse. he's giving me shit. i apologize. my bad. i know that. get there. he doesnt stand up. {red flag 3. no chivalry. douche.} we start talking. i, per usual, am nervous. internet dating gives me massive nerves because i always feel like i wont be physically pretty enough. no one likes to be judged. but i swallow it. and keep talking. and these are the topics we hit: sorry for being late blah blah blah. talk about some bullshit about how humid it is (its may) and how he likes houston (he's not from here.) and then the kicker. we talk about his new book. such a self-indulgent tool box. he's even started a blog to generate interest in it. the book is about how he's used this dating site and now has gone on 100+ first dates. i told him i want nothing to do with the book and that i better not show up in it. ever. after this date, i'm sure i will. motherfucker better have changed my name. assclown. anyhow. here's the jist of what he has to say:
zero: i always ask a girl why she loves me.
me: uhh...why?
z: since i've been in houston, two girls have told me that they love me in the last six months.
m: umm, thats nice? sorry, i dont even know how to respond to that.
z: well, every time a girl tells me she loves me, i ask why.
m: seriously? "why"?
z: yeah. i want to know why. the reasons. {red flag 4. he's got baggage. anyone that can't be open to love can't receive love. and that usually means something happened that they cannot get over. you shouldn't make it a mantra that you HAVE to question love. feel lucky that someone looked at you in that moment and felt something for you that they haven't felt in a while.}
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z: i think people should have sex pretty early on to know if you're sexually compatible. i wont commit to a girl until i have sex with her.
m: i dont see the problem if you're in a serious and monogamous relationship. whatever floats your boat.
z: i'm actually dating two other girls.
m: and...?
z: yeah
m: and having sex with them? do they know about each other?
z: yeah. they're cool with it. {red flag 5. refer to flag 2.}
m: wow. i'm not.
oh, and here's the best part. he starts to tell me about his failed marriage. apparently, while he was golfing the day of the wedding, he realized that he didnt love her. i asked him why in the hell he would go through with it. why string her along like that? his answer: we already paid for everything. ...... wow. there is never a good enough reason to do what he did, especially money. i told him that he could have still had a badass party, hold the wedding ceremony. how about a thank-god-i-didnt-marry-the-wrong-person party. way to go and add a carry-on to her emotional baggage.
conversation goes on. and then he tells me he makes $100,000+ a year and usually dates models. women want him for his money. especially older women. my thoughts? FUCK THIS SHIT. i almost want to scream at him: really, bud? you think a gold digger is gonna pick you? we're in houston. if she's a bonafide check-chaser, she's gonna go with the older guy who has 7 figures, not six. chill, bro, chill. dont flatter yourself.
at this point, i have officially, mentally checked out. i'm just nodding my head, being polite. but pretty soon, i stop being polite. i'm disgusted and dont care what he thinks of me. i'm picking at the holes in all his arguments and his reasoning. i've decided that i'm taking this sonofabitch down a few pegs. he requires traits in a woman that he doesnt possess. game on, asshole.
i am so done with learning about him and trying to understand him, i didnt even realize that he didnt give a shit about me. didnt show any interest in me or my views or life. ask for the check. get up and give my ticket to the valet. i'm not even trying to engage zero in conversation anymore. just short yes and no answers. my car pulls up. he actually says to me, "wow. i never would have pegged you for driving a BMW." i turn around and shoot back, "you aren't the only one banking. but i dont have to brag about that." i get in the car and drive off. (not proud of my margarita induced dig, but i just really wanted to stick it to him.)
what i learned? i do NOT have to give everyone a chance. believe people when they show you who they really are the first time. he showed me in our first phone conversation, but i thought i should give him a chance. who was he? an ageist who had a high opinion of himself and didnt realize that he has work to do on himself too. he had this unreal checklist of superficial qualities that he wanted from his girlfriend. no humility, no understanding of the word humble. i couldnt believe that i was nervous about the way i looked. if he didnt feel lucky to sit across a table from a woman that is articulate, beautiful, gracious, and funny, then he doesnt realize that what we want and what we are graced with are two different things, lists that rarely coincide.
but then i have to ask, why did i stick around? my parents conditioned me to be polite, so i was. he was so sure that he was awesome, that i was insecure of whether or not he would think i was worthy. it was like i was seeking his validation. how sad is that? i learned i should have a little more faith in myself. anyone that rattles off their resume of accomplishments and income they way he did obviously has issues with his own self worth. his confidence is misguided. and i realized that the reason i dont read my resume on my dates is because my money and my job accomplishments are such a minuscule part of who i am. i am not a sum of my promotions and 401k.
what matters to me is the person that has the humility and humbleness not to talk about money, who believes that sex shouldn't be just sex. it should be a surrender of the last frontier to someone- an ultimate sign of trust and vulnerability. when you hear "i love you," you feel joy, not doubt. those, among other things. that's the girl that sat across the table from him. if he didnt see that, fine.
biggest AHA moment. he's not a bad guy. he's just absolutely wrong for me. there is someone out there that wants the same things he does and wants the same things out of life that he does. albeit, she's probably a douchebagguette, but still. that's why he's date zero. he reset my way of seeing things. he probably thinks that i'm too emotional and not ambitious, but that's my point. everything is about perspective. i don't think i am those things, but he does. i most definitely am emotional, but my ambitions dont lie in my career, but in the quality of my life and the person i choose to be. if i leave this world having loved honestly and raised honest, empathetic, accepting children, i think i will have accomplished more than most. those are my priorities. his life made him the way he is, mine made me the way i am. we are products of our experiences and our choices. what matters to me doesn't have to matter to him and vice versa. now, i dont take it as personal when someone doesn't like me. dont get me wrong, still chips away at the ego. but still, i'm standing. i'm here. and i'm still trying.
