I had a date tonight. It was a second meeting with the same guy – “R”. He is pleasant and attractive. I met him for coffee last weekend and in the course of a rather slow conversation he asked me what restaurants I liked and when I told him I liked Thai food he suggested we go out for Thai food soon. Alrighty, then – he might be a little prosaic but he was clearly interested in me so what the heck? I was too busy to go until tonight so tonight it was.
The place he took me to was cute and the food was good. Since this was the second outing it was time to start asking some questions. “So, what do you for fun? Read? Movies?” His response – “Don’t read but I do watch movies”. My brain froze as solid as a car door lock in an ice storm. The man doesn’t read books, or magazines or the paper. Ouch. I should have steered off into a list of movies so I could get a read on him that way but frankly I got stuck at “I don’t read”. As it turns out he is lonely and bored. He doesn’t get up until 8 AM every day and when he does get up he can’t think of anything to do to fill his life. I think I’m supposed to be excited by the fact that he can afford to live that way but honestly, I can’t quite envision happily dating someone who doesn’t have more things on his wish list of “what I’d like to do” than he has time for.
I was reminded of the periodic letters to Dear Abby from “Mr. Nice Guy” who is polite and clean and nice looking and who just can’t find a girl friend. Abby never said, “hey, have you ever considered the possibility that you are about as exciting as sap running down tree bark?” because that wouldn’t be nice and how would she know? And frankly, I hate to say anything derogatory about R – he’s a nice man. There’s just no there there. No spark, no sizzle, no shine no passion. As the evening wore on I could feel little pieces of my brain burning out like red hot ashes in an updraft as I tried furiously to find something interesting to talk about. I’m sure I could find some enjoyment spending time with him walking our dogs and going skiing but I’m equally certain I would be chronically frustrated by my inability to engage him in a meaningful conversation.
Oh well. At least he didn’t lie about his age.
When I met my husband, he didn’t read. Being that I couldn’t imagine and world without literature, I was quite confused. It turns out that he didn’t read much because he was never socialized to read–his family doesn’t really read that much and he was an athlete from the time he was a very young boy so he just didn’t find time (or the support) to pick up reading for fun.After meeting me, he was forced to go to book stores (which he found he absolutely loves) and he started to find his reading niche. We now will spend weekends going to the bookstore and coming home and reading together.He also did not play the guitar when I met him, but I took care of that;)This man may be quite boring and lost in his own vapidness, but maybe he just needs a muse. I think you would make a very good muse.
Aw, MAN. What a drag. I had forgotten how much I loathed dating. “So, what do you do for fun?” “Uuuuuuh…I pick at my fingernails and chew on plastic straws…” (Seriously – I went out with a guy who took the straw out of his soda and chewed it, like it was gum. The whole straw. In his mouth. Chewing. I just kept staring at his moving jaw in horrified fascination…)But, wow. I can’t imagine not having a bunch of things on my “to do” list. Or having an SO who sat around listlessly wishing he had something – anything – to interest him today.I’m so sorry you’re going through this wasteland. But keep the faith – there is somebody out there who will spark and sizzle and otherwise ROCK. Because you deserve it. 🙂
dating??? yikes, i forgot i was supposed to be doing that, too. Except, it sounds horrid. Really, my brain would have frozen at the words I don’t read, too. Especially not newspapers??? eeeewwwww.and no long to-do list? No disrepect to SFTR, but you can’t count on changing a man.
Hang in there, 21CM, I met my husband on match.com (he has an English degree but his ex-girlfriend – my now bestfriend – rejoices in telling me about how he used the Cliff’s notes version of every book in college).