Today’s post has been re-written after an explosive set of responses. Have I discovered an under-discussed aspect of dating? The point of view of the man who isn’t out to wear down her resistance? I’ve chosen to represent this post as a short discussion on that very topic, taking care to stress I am NOT pointing at Estelle, rather at the entire concept of “dry dating” in general. Yes, I have plenty of experience at it.I’ve hung out in platonic friendships, the prime example would be Marion, still best buds after over thirty years. When other males claim anything similar, I smile knowing how often theirs is the result of some unsuccessful hustle. I suspect the very popularity of the topic is due to its failure as a tactic.
Main concept to get straight: I like Estelle. She is good company in a town where such company is exceedingly rare. She is [also] an exception because I like her enough to want to introduce her to my best friend. I would not otherwise date Estelle at all and that is where some of the tidbits below get their start. Let me rephrase that. I would likely not date anyone just because they like my company. Normally they have to pay their share. Few of us will repeatedly pony up a day's wage to watch somebody else having a blast.
To me, lunch or coffee not an integral part of an evolving relationship. Other things have to be happening simultaneously, or going out with me is not the signal to start packing and planning to move in for free. That’s been tried. My regular audience and I have had this conversation long ago, so it is really here for the benefit of any newcomers who think they know my life better than I do. Estelle and I get along well but we are not made for each other.
If you want me to keep coming back, dry dating cannot become a babysitting project. When you meet someone like me, liking to dance “a lot” is not the same thing as the aptitude to do a decent foxtrot. This dance takes maybe a half hour to learn, so anyone who dances with me once would wisely take it upon themselves to master a box step before the second date. I have yet to meet a woman in Florida who's figured this out.
However, this type of connection does not even enter Estelle’s thinking. Dancing is fun, why make it complicated? She likes to flop around tribal-fashion which is not a standard anywhere I am likely to pay admission. So you know, I’ve been watching for anything she enjoys that I could pick up on, but no dice. That’s what I meant when I said she can’t sing and dance. And that impressionist “dance” belongs at the burlesque theater, not in a ballroom.
So while there is no rule and probably even less advice that Estelle should reciprocate with anything except her personality, unless that is forthcoming, it sets out a severe set of restrictions on what we do in the future. As it stands, every new thing we do is at my insistence, that is, babysitting. I am the opposite because if I met a great Scottish lass, by this time tomorrow I’d have read a book on bagpipes. It isn't promising when everything I do, even a trip to the library, constitutes a major event for some women. That is far too one-sided for me.
I am not that hard to please. You meet me, you grab a guitar and start learning, or be left left behind when I get a gig. But I’m not dragging anyone along who isn’t even trying, or worse, has never needed learn to try. It has been months since Estelle has introduced a single new topic into any conversation, and she retains that habit of auto-agreeing with everything. This makes it impossible to give directions or make mutual decisions. She will always say she gets it. That means I am tasked to be the one constantly watching out for the both of us. Babysitting.
Again, I’m not singling out Estelle, rather I’m describing one date in terms of what I expect out of all dates. There’s hardly any amongst us who don't fantasize we are great dates based on personality alone. Who wouldn't love an exciting, educated, dynamic person to walk into our life and provide novelty entertainment just for being ourselves. But how well has that attitude served anyone in the past?
I purposely left [describing] our date to last. What we did is not all that important to anyone thinking ahead. To me, it was an ordinary date. We began with a stroll to the bakery for early coffee and visits. Then the beach tour bus to the mall. We window-shopped for a few hours and eventually went to the movies. Then munchies. I mistook “Zero Dark Thirty” for an action movie. It is completely fictionalized account that some CIA lady was responsible for relentlessly finding Bin Laden, which is where the “greatest manhunt” plug came from. Afterward it was gourmet hotdogs at the Five, shown with the famous fries. Wow, can I spoil ‘em, or what? (Plan ahead, guys, this “snack” at Five costs sixteen bucks.)
To me it adds up to a casual Sunday outing. Therein lies the potential problem. I need to make sure the other half isn't getting the wrong impression. Good times? I'm a willing participant, but a reluctant sole provider.
[Author’s note: There is something else I’d like to say. I am not into frilly underwear and I think that men who are have been dating women with ugly bodies. Who else wants anything covered up? I don’t even care for the type of women who date the type of men who prefer undies to nudity, they somehow ain’t right in the head. So you go right into Victoria’s Secret and I’ll wait outside on the bench. I’ve said since age 15, “Lingerie gets in my way.”]
