Dear Boys,

Dear Boys,

Yes.  I am an awkward date.  I think normal women would apologize, but when you ask me what I like to do in my spare time and I say, “well when it’s not shark week I’m hauling things around my farm, manning the bandsaw at work, or having dance-offs in parking garages” I think I painted a pretty clear picture of what you are getting into.  So sorry I’m not sorry…my weirdness was prefaced, and I keep things honest.


The other night I creeped on a couple in their mid twenties having what seemed to be their first date at a restaurant where obviously I was eating alone.  No shame I love food.  Anyway everything about it seemed so terrifically normal it intrigued me.  No random succession of quoting lyrics from Biz Markie, Katy Perry, and Willie Nelson.  No accidentally spitting or drooling while singing said lyrics.  No confession of actual hunger on the girls part and taking down 2 orders of chili cheese nachos.  And definitely no talk about how one develops secret racist tendencies toward European travelers in Asia.  Just civil tactful conversation between two interested parties.  The girl had her salad the guy had his chicken primavera and everything seemed right in their world.

I was there for the initial, “Are-are you Jenny?  Oh good I’m Darren”  and stayed for the, “Where did you park?  Let me walk you to your car.”  From what I could gather from my carefully honed stalking skills it was an date initiated by an online dating site with an undisclosed title.  He is an insurance agent and she a nurse.  The conversation blossomed quite naturally out of them talking of their professional and family lives and the various other hobbiest pursuits.  He windsurfs and has a pet bulldog, she kayaks watches Sleepyhollow and loves bikram yoga.  Not once did Alan Rickman’s spot on portrayal of Hans Grueber in Die Hard or how to fix your car with duct tape factor into their combined musings…what the hell is wrong with me???


It all seemed so quintessential and perfect that it made me question my ability to function in front of people in general.  As you can guess I don’t date much, and when I do it’s always worth watching (see first paragraph).  It’s pretty apparent why this gal don’t have a ring on it (again see first paragraph).  The way the world functions I take it is there can only be so many eligible individuals.  If we were all eligible, we’d all be in relationships.  I just happen to fall into one of those funky, eclectic, slightly creepy, Pheobe-from-Friends type of girls category…who like Pheobe will probably end up being a surrogate for a relative or close friend, officiate best friend’s weddings, sing to random strangers on the street, and live out her days solo but always workin it.

It makes me really worry sometimes that despite the numerous awkward happenings that go on during my “dates” (if you could call them that) that guys still call me after.  This must mean there’s something mutually wrong with the both of us right?  I guess if the end game is to get into each other’s pants that’s a pretty mutual sentiment, but I think I give off a pretty butchy vibe so…I don’t know where I was going with that.  Basically boys, no one should date me.  Let’s all be friends and dance around parking garages.  I hope all your relationships are as happy and normal as Jenny and Darren and you don’t have to deal with this hot mess over here.  The end.


I recently acquired some saffron, and subsequently have been eating tons of carbs…laced with rich saffron based recipes.  It’s been a good time going in, but…well…I’ll leave the rest of that sentence out.




3 thoughts on “Dear Boys,

  1. Didn’t Phoebe wind up with Mike? Or should I say Princess Consuela Banana Hammock and Crap Bag? I think there is a weirdo out there for every weirdo, and in time, you will find each other and your weirdness will increase, and you will have the most interesting (albeit weird) conversation over dinner and your four orders of chili cheese nachos with a hint of saffron. 😉

  2. Laughed loudly while reading this post. I always thought I was a little (*cough* hugely *cough*) too left of centre for men, and then I met a guy who had just enough in common with me to be great and not so much in common with me to be annoying – we’ve been together for nearly 7 years and now have a nutter of a toddler.

    As a quick aside, I money-back-guarantee you that both of those first daters were in PR mode and are as odd as the rest of us. As my friend says, “normal’s just a cycle on the washing machine.”

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