13 going on 30
That's 13 dates going on 30 years old.
Yes, it's true, I went on 13 first dates. In two weeks. About a couple of months before I turned 30. I decided that, at last, I was ready to really try and do this. I signed up for a couple of sites/apps and quickly came to the conclusion that this was a second job and therefore, I needed to get organized - with spreadsheets, screenshots, and some serious filters of my own... because the basic ones provided were not going to cut it, and this was my playground, not theirs.
---
You're a match!
When we "matched" and I read his bio, I assessed if...
He passed 6th grade English.
His bio included words that formed complete sentences. That is plural - sentences - with an "s". The words were spelled correctly. The sentences were informative and endearing.
He had nothing to hide.
The first photo did not feature him in a hat and/or sunglasses. Wearing these in other photos was fine, but not the first one. Any photos with unexplained women were also cause for concern unless the women were very obviously family members.
He was into more than tacos and the outdoors (and wanted children, and had a good job, and...).
Because all the men apparently loved tacos and the outdoors. I like these things too, but... dig deeper, gentlemen. Dig deeper. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.
---
The first message. Because, you only get one first impression.
When I received a first message from him, I evaluated whether...
He passed 6th grade English.
I really needed this one twice. He spelled my name correctly. He spelled everything correctly. He said more than "hey". It came to my attention that "hey" was a controversial opening. Some think this is A-OK. I felt it was A++ wrong. I demanded more.
He read my profile.
He showed he read ANYTHING in my profile in his message. I worked really hard on it and I carefully evaluated his. Also, he didn't immediately ask for my number or do any of the following:
No. YOU are going to plan the first date. The second date. And at least five dates thereafter.
*chomp* Bye.
Parlo italiano e hai dimenticato l'apostrofo in "whats". Allora....
*flies away*
First, you don't get to call me "babe". Second, you can take your cocky ass to the bar for your fling.
It's "you're". OKAY!?!?!
---
The conversation that follows.
After we messaged back and forth for a few days, I wanted to make sure that...
He wasn't inappropriate.
One man explained to me that he had a medical condition where he needed to inject himself once a week with a spring-loaded needle. I felt sorry until this so called "gentleman" said something along the lines of "Maybe if we end up dating long term, you could twerk to distract me while I inject myself." The only twerking I am doing is at Kazaxe on Saturday morning, and you are not invited.
He wasn't clingy.
Another man repeatedly messaged me during the middle of the Stanley Cup finals and then called me afterward. First, don't do that. And second, don't do that. No, I don't want to talk to you on the phone before I've even met you. No, I don't care if you think that's off-putting. Arrivederci ed in bocca al lupo!
He didn't put me on the back burner.
Several men would message me frequently and then disappear for a while. And then message me again out of the blue, but never actually ask me out on a date. Let's just be clear, I am not a back burner babe.
---
THE DATE
After picking out the perfect outfit, and doing my hair just so, and calling my mom, I went on the date and made careful note that...
He didn't show up hungover. Or late. Or looking like a slob.
He couldn't possibly be in his thirties and think any of these was appropriate. Oh, but he did.
He didn't lie.
About his height. His age. Or anything else. At 5'8" plus 3" inch heels, I knew immediately if he was really 6' or not.
He walked me to my car and texted to ask if I got home safely.
I may be an independent woman, but there is something to be said for being a gentleman. He didn't have to kiss me, but he damn well better have texted me and made sure I got home safely.
He didn't ghost.
Ghosting, fading, whatever. I don't even care what the lingo is, because it's all unacceptable and immature. If he couldn't even tell me over a text message that he just wasn't that into me... well, bless his heart. I mustered up the courage to gently tell any man I wasn't interested in seeing again as such.
---
In a way, I had my own little Bachelorette show going, except I didn't have to keep around any drama queens for the sake of entertainment. I had to get really good, really fast, at defining and communicating what I was looking for and what I was definitely not looking for. It wasn't that I didn't know what I wanted, but that I had to actually take what I've learned about myself and relationships and put it out there into the very new, sometimes hard and confusing, but usually fun and exciting world of dating. That's what we call being "vulnerable".
We all know these things - being vulnerable and communicating clearly - (among many others) are required of you in a relationship in order for it to stand. And we talk a lot about how to do these things - we have books, reality TV shows, and mimosa brunches with our girlfriends - but, putting these into practice is really tough.
To the 13 men who took me out on 13 first dates, thank you. Thank you for taking me out on real, legitimate dates and giving me a chance to let you into my world, and me into yours.
zigazig ah.
with love,
KB
Yes, it's true, I went on 13 first dates. In two weeks. About a couple of months before I turned 30. I decided that, at last, I was ready to really try and do this. I signed up for a couple of sites/apps and quickly came to the conclusion that this was a second job and therefore, I needed to get organized - with spreadsheets, screenshots, and some serious filters of my own... because the basic ones provided were not going to cut it, and this was my playground, not theirs.
---
You're a match!
When we "matched" and I read his bio, I assessed if...
He passed 6th grade English.
His bio included words that formed complete sentences. That is plural - sentences - with an "s". The words were spelled correctly. The sentences were informative and endearing.
He had nothing to hide.
The first photo did not feature him in a hat and/or sunglasses. Wearing these in other photos was fine, but not the first one. Any photos with unexplained women were also cause for concern unless the women were very obviously family members.
He was into more than tacos and the outdoors (and wanted children, and had a good job, and...).
Because all the men apparently loved tacos and the outdoors. I like these things too, but... dig deeper, gentlemen. Dig deeper. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want.
---
The first message. Because, you only get one first impression.
When I received a first message from him, I evaluated whether...
He passed 6th grade English.
I really needed this one twice. He spelled my name correctly. He spelled everything correctly. He said more than "hey". It came to my attention that "hey" was a controversial opening. Some think this is A-OK. I felt it was A++ wrong. I demanded more.
He read my profile.
He showed he read ANYTHING in my profile in his message. I worked really hard on it and I carefully evaluated his. Also, he didn't immediately ask for my number or do any of the following:
No. YOU are going to plan the first date. The second date. And at least five dates thereafter.
*chomp* Bye.
Parlo italiano e hai dimenticato l'apostrofo in "whats". Allora....
First, you don't get to call me "babe". Second, you can take your cocky ass to the bar for your fling.
It's "you're". OKAY!?!?!
---
The conversation that follows.
After we messaged back and forth for a few days, I wanted to make sure that...
He wasn't inappropriate.
One man explained to me that he had a medical condition where he needed to inject himself once a week with a spring-loaded needle. I felt sorry until this so called "gentleman" said something along the lines of "Maybe if we end up dating long term, you could twerk to distract me while I inject myself." The only twerking I am doing is at Kazaxe on Saturday morning, and you are not invited.
He wasn't clingy.
Another man repeatedly messaged me during the middle of the Stanley Cup finals and then called me afterward. First, don't do that. And second, don't do that. No, I don't want to talk to you on the phone before I've even met you. No, I don't care if you think that's off-putting. Arrivederci ed in bocca al lupo!
He didn't put me on the back burner.
Several men would message me frequently and then disappear for a while. And then message me again out of the blue, but never actually ask me out on a date. Let's just be clear, I am not a back burner babe.
---
THE DATE
After picking out the perfect outfit, and doing my hair just so, and calling my mom, I went on the date and made careful note that...
He didn't show up hungover. Or late. Or looking like a slob.
He couldn't possibly be in his thirties and think any of these was appropriate. Oh, but he did.
He didn't lie.
About his height. His age. Or anything else. At 5'8" plus 3" inch heels, I knew immediately if he was really 6' or not.
He walked me to my car and texted to ask if I got home safely.
I may be an independent woman, but there is something to be said for being a gentleman. He didn't have to kiss me, but he damn well better have texted me and made sure I got home safely.
He didn't ghost.
Ghosting, fading, whatever. I don't even care what the lingo is, because it's all unacceptable and immature. If he couldn't even tell me over a text message that he just wasn't that into me... well, bless his heart. I mustered up the courage to gently tell any man I wasn't interested in seeing again as such.
---
In a way, I had my own little Bachelorette show going, except I didn't have to keep around any drama queens for the sake of entertainment. I had to get really good, really fast, at defining and communicating what I was looking for and what I was definitely not looking for. It wasn't that I didn't know what I wanted, but that I had to actually take what I've learned about myself and relationships and put it out there into the very new, sometimes hard and confusing, but usually fun and exciting world of dating. That's what we call being "vulnerable".
We all know these things - being vulnerable and communicating clearly - (among many others) are required of you in a relationship in order for it to stand. And we talk a lot about how to do these things - we have books, reality TV shows, and mimosa brunches with our girlfriends - but, putting these into practice is really tough.
To the 13 men who took me out on 13 first dates, thank you. Thank you for taking me out on real, legitimate dates and giving me a chance to let you into my world, and me into yours.
zigazig ah.
with love,
KB
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