Plenty of Fish

Feeling lonely? What is it that everyone tells you? There are plenty of fish in the sea. Sure, if you want to spread out a wide net and then you want to haul them in and sort through them. Does anyone of us really have time for that? About 100 years ago, people rarely left the vicinity that they were raised in. Now we move at the drop of a hat, and frequent so many different places that the wading pool has turned into an ocean. How, in an OCEAN, can you find someone? Internet dating seems to be the answer. Social Networking. All these venues of semi-anonymous, no commitment visual aids to entice one fish away from the school. Does it really work? The endless quizzes and personality assessments? The self promotion and photoshop wizardry that sets ourselves up for an epic fail.

First problem is that people don't look like their pictures. Girls, I thought, were the main ones guilty for this, but I have ran across many a photo that upon closer examination was doctored. I recently joined a dating site recommended by a friend. I had originally thought it as research here and there to see responses- which I still intend to write about those ironies. However, I found the odd thing that there were so many overwhelmingly attractive men on this particular site. After dozens of messages and profile looksies, I honed in on one that I could say got my panties wet. After several messages back and forth, we exchanged numbers and began a dialogue over the phone. It seemed promising, and we met for a "drink" at a local pub near me. Let me just premise the rest of this story with the fact that he was from New York, and had driven across country to make a fresh start. His picture portrayed a strong Italian look with tan skin, square jaw, think UFC fighter muscles, etc.

As I was standing waiting for him to come walking towards the pub, he calls me and says look over here, which I then scan the street and spy that he has pulled in beside the curb. Nice, he drove a sweet little Mercedes. He leans over and asks me where to park. I am thinking in my head, you just passed two parking lots and about 50 parking meters. I responded, "Anywhere". He looks around and says, "Where?" I decided to hop in the car and show this poor fool where to go. Already he's losing points with me. Turning onto the next street, I say, "here's a meter right here". He winces and looks around, "Do you think its safe?" Major cool points are falling fast. I say," sure; the random homeless are not going to mess with your car, just lock it, and there are security guards on each corner, it will be fine." He reluctantly parks and triple checks the locks on his car, then starts to get antsy as a passerby starts to admire his car. The man looks at me and says "mmm" that is a sweet machine, and I verbally concur with him, to the dismay of my new companion. I continue walking back towards the pub whilst my new friend glances back over and over again at his car.
"You like living down here?" I proudly shake my head and say "I love it" Did I mention that I live in Downtown LA? He's from New York for christ's sake. I would have been positive that he had seen worse areas than this. We continued on to the pub and sat down. I ordered the Pinot and he ordered a black and tan. They brought him a Guinness Stout. Instead of asking the waiter to bring him the correct order, he decided that complaining about it for 10 minutes was the better action. Bored me to tears, I say. Then he lied about his age. He said he was 28 but in reality is 34. While I admit he looked younger than both those ages, the fact that a man would lie about his age was astonishing, and somewhat... vain. I felt no need to lie about my age, which is something that women are known for.

As the idle chit-chat continued, he didn't say much, so I chose to fill in the blanks. Not more than a few minutes into some space filling prattle, I notice that he has been staring off towards the front,passed my shoulder mind you, and when questioned - come to find out that he's staring at some old guy who was acting oddly. Great, I am glad that I didn't waste gas to meet this person.
As he kept glancing at his watch, I asked him if he had somewhere to be. "I have work in the morning." He explained. "Don't we all?" I replied.

Leaving the pub, he seemed wary at walking back to his car. It was literally, less than a block away. Sensing his apprehension, I asked him if he remembered where his car was, he said yes but didn't know how to get back to the freeway. So I began to point out the direction to which he should go, and in the midst of my direction giving; a homeless man approached and attempted to aide in my direction giving, I smiled and thanked him, and said "I got this." No harm, no foul. Yet, this guy was freaking out, trying to pull me away from this harmless person. Then my date asked me to walk him back to his car... wait- isn't he supposed to walk me to my door? So I walk him halfway and as I am heading back to my building, the very same homeless man that had tried to help with directions, was standing on the corner watching. As I came closer to him, just before I crossed the street, he looked at me and shook his head. With a questioning look on my face, he smiled and said "that ain't the man for you". I shook my head in agreement.