So I am going on my first face-to-face date with bachelor #1 this Saturday. The photos the matchmaker sent me along with his profile are nice enough. And while I feel he isn't really my type (read: broke and jackass-ish) I figure I will step out of my box and see what happens. He has been very nice when we have talked over the phone, if not a bit direct. Side note: I have noticed there is a distinct difference between conversations you hold with someone you met on the street and are trying to see where things go, and someone you met through a matchmaker and know exactly the expectations of each interaction. It's a bit odd...
Anyway, back to the story at hand. So we have been exchanging emails back and forth and today is the second time he has mentioned that he still needs to secure a place to stay in town (he is coming from out of state). The first time I passed it off as information sharing, but now that he has mentioned it a second time I am beginning to think he is a bit of a dog. Mention it once, that is information sharing, mention it twice and your are bordering on flat out asking if you're getting lucky after the date. Unfortunately for him, needy/assuming pressuring has never been the way to go with me. So, I changed our dinner date to a lunch date so that he will have time to travel back home that same day and not need to secure a hotel.
I don't think that was the response he was expecting, but he accepted it. Of course, there wasn't a much more he could do. Moral of the story- don't be a dog, it might bite you in the ass.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Want An Ego Boost? Find A Matchmaker...And Then, Call A Shrink!
So the very first entry of this lovely blog illustrated my amazingly exciting love life... you know the one where I live in my parent's basement and haven't really dated in over 2 years...remember, that one? Yeah, so there appears to be a turn of events. My phone, which has seen about as much action as I have, is suddenly getting calls from men the matchmaker has set me up with (with my approval of course :-). My once empty email box is filling up with men asking if I am available this weekend (heck no, make them work for it!) and if they can fly out to see me or buy me a plane ticket to come meet them (most are out of state).
Wow, where did this come from? How did I go from dateless girl to girl wonder? I am not going to play shy and humble, I am aware I am attractive. I come from attractive stock. Yay me. But to go from catching a few eyes as I walk down the street, to setting up dates with multi-millionaires (yes, some of these guys are very affluent) seems to be a crazy turn of events. And it begs the question, why do I need a professional matchmaker to get a date with someone who isn't a complete loser?
I guess I should admit it right now, I am a sucker for the blue collar worker. If there is a starving artist, penniless grad student, or broke construction worker within a 40 mile radius I am inevitably attracted to them. They generally can't pay for a meal much less make rent on time, but for some reason, that is my type. But now, I find myself talking with men who know who the GOP candidates are and that The Economist is a magazine, not just some guy who knows about money. They know how to use a knife and a fork simultaneously rather than just hacking away at their meal with the side of a fork until it resembles ground beef. They speak 3 languages fluently and travel to Europe several times a year. Perhaps they even own a home over there.
So here I am, talking with these amazingly worldly men (who are looking to get married!) and all I can think about is how they wouldn't know how to change a flat tire. What the hell is wrong with me?! Who cares if they know how to change a tire, they can hire someone to do that! Hell they could buy their own Les Schwab and have one of the roadside trucks follow them around for the rest of eternity! How can I actually think that staying at home with the starving artist, or more accurately, going out with the starving artist and paying for both our meals, is more appealing than flying first class to Spain of an all expenses paid vacation? I think I need psychological help. Someone quick, call me a doctor!
Wow, where did this come from? How did I go from dateless girl to girl wonder? I am not going to play shy and humble, I am aware I am attractive. I come from attractive stock. Yay me. But to go from catching a few eyes as I walk down the street, to setting up dates with multi-millionaires (yes, some of these guys are very affluent) seems to be a crazy turn of events. And it begs the question, why do I need a professional matchmaker to get a date with someone who isn't a complete loser?
I guess I should admit it right now, I am a sucker for the blue collar worker. If there is a starving artist, penniless grad student, or broke construction worker within a 40 mile radius I am inevitably attracted to them. They generally can't pay for a meal much less make rent on time, but for some reason, that is my type. But now, I find myself talking with men who know who the GOP candidates are and that The Economist is a magazine, not just some guy who knows about money. They know how to use a knife and a fork simultaneously rather than just hacking away at their meal with the side of a fork until it resembles ground beef. They speak 3 languages fluently and travel to Europe several times a year. Perhaps they even own a home over there.
So here I am, talking with these amazingly worldly men (who are looking to get married!) and all I can think about is how they wouldn't know how to change a flat tire. What the hell is wrong with me?! Who cares if they know how to change a tire, they can hire someone to do that! Hell they could buy their own Les Schwab and have one of the roadside trucks follow them around for the rest of eternity! How can I actually think that staying at home with the starving artist, or more accurately, going out with the starving artist and paying for both our meals, is more appealing than flying first class to Spain of an all expenses paid vacation? I think I need psychological help. Someone quick, call me a doctor!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Matchmaker, Matchmaker...wait- what did you just ask me?!
What would you do if you were shopping one day and a woman came up and asked you, "How old are you?" Let me tell you, you probably wont end up reacting the way you'd imagine. I would know, it just happened to me.
I, being the quick to annoyance person that I am, would have figured I'd come back with a facial expression that displayed my evaluation of her sanity and a retort that turned her face red. But surprisingly, in the moment, all I could say was, "Uhhh-um- 25?"
After being peppered with questions regarding my relationship status (single), my lifestyle (non-smoker, no kids, living with a beagle and a cat), and my family ties (I am close to my family) the woman introduced herself as a matchmaker. She is a headhunter for clients paying upwards of $25,000 for her to find them their next great love...or at least someone who isn't a total gold digger. In a span of mere moments I went from thinking she was hitting on me to thinking she was a pimp.
She asked me if I were interested in meeting a client of hers who was a vineyard owner. She tells me he has a great personality and a 10-year-old son who doesn't live with him. Oh yeah, and he is 51.
I politely schooled my face and let her know that while I enjoy the company of men older than myself, I prefer them not to be old enough to be my father/grandfather/great-grandfather. She merely shrugged and told me I would be a great fit for the type of men she works with and asked for my contact info. Still a bit stunned at the surreal-ness of it all, I handed it over to her. She gave me her business card and encouraged me to go onto her website and create a profile so she can keep me in mind for other clients. I smiled and said I will check it out and with that, she was gone.
Dazed and confused I googled her business when I got home. Sure enough, she was legit. Independent reviews from various websites rave about her services. I toy with the idea of filling out a profile, it feels too much like online dating for my taste. Something I never really wanted to try, but I figured, at the very least it can be my one new thing for the week. So, who knows perhaps one day I will be writing to you about a terrific date I just went on with Bill Gates' business partner... or more likely, I will write about how I was on a date with grandpa and constantly looking to find out if he was wearing the "help I've fallen and I can't get up" alert system.
I, being the quick to annoyance person that I am, would have figured I'd come back with a facial expression that displayed my evaluation of her sanity and a retort that turned her face red. But surprisingly, in the moment, all I could say was, "Uhhh-um- 25?"
After being peppered with questions regarding my relationship status (single), my lifestyle (non-smoker, no kids, living with a beagle and a cat), and my family ties (I am close to my family) the woman introduced herself as a matchmaker. She is a headhunter for clients paying upwards of $25,000 for her to find them their next great love...or at least someone who isn't a total gold digger. In a span of mere moments I went from thinking she was hitting on me to thinking she was a pimp.
She asked me if I were interested in meeting a client of hers who was a vineyard owner. She tells me he has a great personality and a 10-year-old son who doesn't live with him. Oh yeah, and he is 51.
I politely schooled my face and let her know that while I enjoy the company of men older than myself, I prefer them not to be old enough to be my father/grandfather/great-grandfather. She merely shrugged and told me I would be a great fit for the type of men she works with and asked for my contact info. Still a bit stunned at the surreal-ness of it all, I handed it over to her. She gave me her business card and encouraged me to go onto her website and create a profile so she can keep me in mind for other clients. I smiled and said I will check it out and with that, she was gone.
Dazed and confused I googled her business when I got home. Sure enough, she was legit. Independent reviews from various websites rave about her services. I toy with the idea of filling out a profile, it feels too much like online dating for my taste. Something I never really wanted to try, but I figured, at the very least it can be my one new thing for the week. So, who knows perhaps one day I will be writing to you about a terrific date I just went on with Bill Gates' business partner... or more likely, I will write about how I was on a date with grandpa and constantly looking to find out if he was wearing the "help I've fallen and I can't get up" alert system.
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