Bitter: Party of One

In an effort to put myself out there and increase the possibility of having an actual relationship in my life in the near future, I gave my phone number to a waiter.

I was “that girl”. Not sure if anything would come of it, pretty sure nothing at all, it felt like a triumph just to have done it.

My girlfriends and I were dining at Acme on Great Jones street before seeing Derrick’s band debut at the music venue downstairs. Even saying any of this sounds foreign…we don’t generally dine before viewing bands or hang out on Great Jones street. But this is all part of expanding horizons. As much as I would love to meet a guy in Phillip and Mariands living room playing bananagrams in my pajamas…it just doesn’t seem as likely.

As soon as we walked in, I thought Anthony was attractive and then he ended up being funny and really good at his job. Bonus points. He named me Stacie (because of my hair, he explained) and then chose the name Rebecca for Mariand. Which is just strange….because that is her alter ego’s name. We all got goospebumps and I believe it was at that point that he sealed the deal with me.

We continued to flirt throughout the soul food meal- and he made fun of me when I ordered the side dish platter with two orders of zucchini and one order of fries.

Gathering strength I told Mariand I was going to leave my number, and she stared at me blankly.

Me: So, I am thinking about leaving my number for the waiter.

Mariand: Blank stare.

Me: This is not the appropriate response of a best friend when I am trying to put myself out there.

Mariand: Sorry. I just got drunk…right…now. Let’s have a do over.

I gathered up the courage and left my number, even without moral support…and was pleasantly surprised when Anthony texted me two days later.

So begins our back and forth of he is seeing a play, I am seeing a movie, he is downtown, I am uptown, there is a blizzard, blah, blah, blah. Fast forward to me turning him down twice and then deciding to put myself out there and let him know I really was interested…but the scheduling wasn’t working out- so I say:

Me: What are you up to tomorrow?

Anthony: Play.Closing/holiday party. It’s cool. Nevermind. My fiancé will back tomorrow anyway.

WWWWWWHHHHHHHHAAAAAATTTTT?

It seems that even screening processes have somehow gotten their wires quite crossed. I figured when I left my number that he wouldn’t get in touch with me if he was in a relationship or homosexual. Cause that’s where we are at folks. I am open to dating you if you are single and straight. It’s that easy.

But apparently I should take out an ad on Pandora that says “if you are emotionally unavailable, in love with your ex girlfriend, engaged, or homosexual- please ask me on a date. That would be fantastic. I thoroughly enjoy spending time, money, and energy on people who have no intention of following through on what they so wish they could.”

After this text interaction I am at a loss for words. This place of being at a loss for words is getting more and more familiar to me. There is another place that Lilli and I have coined “The Diner”. Which is where you go when douchebags are having their internal douchebag struggles and you are anxiously awaiting their decisions. This past year I spent more time in the diner than I would have liked. I had unwittingly become a “regular” with a preferred table and sauce on the side.

Sometimes Lilli was there to provide me company, sometimes Adam will zip through the diner and pick up something to go. But I was a beginning to fear I would become a staple at the “Diner a la Douche”.

I am beginning to wonder if the “Lost for Words Coffee Shop” isn’t right around the corner from the “Douchebag Diner.” It seems that as soon as I give up my booth seat with a view, I am heading right back to the same street for a cup of are you serious coffee or a sensible did that just happen banana loaf. I guess the real question is, am I moving further towards or from what it is I am looking for?

After calling Kaitlin, Lilli, Mariand, and Adam to tell the harrowing tale- Anthony lets “Stacie” know he was kidding and will be in touch.

Does this make it better? I don’t know what worse- texting with a guy about meeting up who then tells you he has a fiance, or texting with a guy about meeting up who thinks its funny to pretend he has a fiancé?

These are my options. At least at the diner I can get a meal and leave feeling somewhat satisfied.

Like I said, it’s a harrowing tale.