First date apologies

I'm stunned, I tell you... stunned. I received an instant message from Irish, the very interesting author who I had an e-crush on several months back. Our first conversation lasted about five hours or so, and our texts was flirtatious and left me giddy.

And then we met and I was less than impressed. His photos were cuter, but that's something I can generally ignore if the personality is on. And his,most definitely, was NOT on... he was crazy late, then mild-to-moderately argumentative the entire time. We met at Chuy's for dinner and drinks... he then proceeded to order water and a small appetizer, so I felt the fool actually getting a real meal and a drink. The height of stupidity came when we argued about Anthony Bourdain vs. Andrew Zimmern; I was making the point that there seemed a proliferation of such shows, and I thought the latter was a cheap knock-off. He seriously argued to the death that I didn't know what I was talking about... that they did TOTALLY different things.

Oh, wait. And he also felt compelled to disagree with my stance on Oprah. And you knows thems fightin' words.

Anyway, we met about two and a half months ago (according to him), after a couple of weeks of talking and being flirty and all the what not. And then I was totally confused by his being a bit douchey, so I didn't call him back and that was that. Until tonight. Below is a transcript of our IM (inked_alice being my online moniker for dating endeavors). I'm a bit... perplexed. He seems genuine, but since the implosion of 2007, I absolutely do not trust my instincts.

Plus, I'm still on the fence about him having jowels.


[9:56:55 pm]thecolin1000: hey- it's Colin who met you a while back at Chuy's and never did apologise for being a bit of an ass at dinner

[9:56:55 pm]thecolin1000: so just saw that you were on and wanted you to know that I am sorry for not being better company that time- and that it was lovely to meet you

[9:56:56 pm]Inked_Alice: I remember you, Colin. Hi there.

[9:57:04 pm]thecolin1000:hi

[9:57:18 pm]thecolin1000: I felt bad about that, as I really did like talking with you-

[9:57:42 pm]Inked_Alice: I appreciate that, even if it's surprising.

[9:57:44 pm]thecolin1000: I was just in a bleh mood and didn't really listen to anything you said, AFTER making you wait as well

[9:58:21 pm]thecolin1000:well, you deserved better than a guy to just argue with you and not really listen or enjoy your company

[9:59:16 pm]Inked_Alice:I thank you for that.

[9:59:26 pm]thecolin1000:Fully welcome

blah, blah, blah, we make small talk about what we've been up to. Then,

[10:03:50 pm]thecolin1000: I miss talking with you- felt like I had a chance getting to know you and then for some unknown reason, just acted like a jackass when we met

[10:04:03 pm]thecolin1000: and you were every bit as good looking as your pics, btw

[10:05:17 pm]Inked_Alice: heh, thank you. this is all a little out of the blue. I'm not quite sure how to respond, in all honesty.

[10:05:29 pm]thecolin1000: I can understand that-

[10:05:38 pm]thecolin1000: just wanted to let you know when I saw you on

[10:06:11 pm]thecolin1000: I hope all is going well for you except for the possible need to buy a new vehicle which is always fun

[10:06:30 pm]Inked_Alice: may I ask what will likely seem a weird question?

[10:06:36 pm]thecolin1000: certainly

[10:07:59 pm]Inked_Alice:was this an after-the-fact revelation... or did you know at the time that you weren't being... hmm,particularly easy to talk to?

[10:08:22 pm]thecolin1000:No

[10:08:58 pm]thecolin1000: I was tired, annoyed, had other things on my mind at the time and just shouldn't have gone out to meet anyone let alone someone who I actually like and wanted to get to know better

[10:09:22 pm]thecolin1000: I felt bad about it afterwards but was almost too embarrassed to contact you and say so

[10:09:45 pm]thecolin1000: I just felt, well, if I were her I wouldn't want to hear from me again after that

[10:09:59 pm]thecolin1000: and an explanation might just come across as a pathetic cover-up

[10:10:46 pm]thecolin1000:so yes I knew, and was just in one of those ugh moods where I was not going to play nice with anyone else- a bit of a little kid moment- not my usual self, I should point out

We're still talking now... though I don't, obviously, feel those butterflies like I did. And I don't know that I will again. Nevertheless, I do appreciate and recognize his realization and feel some credit is due, as men don't tend to acknowledge when they've been jackasses... especially in situations like this. Our paths haven't crossed, and wouldn't have; he could've gone the rest of his life without apologizing and it would have been fine.

So here I sit, surprised and a bit perplexed.

Do you hear yourself?

So, as everyone, their dog, their auntie and their barber know, I do online dating. Scratch that: I do online dating to death. It's not even funny how many ads I've saved, posted, replied to and passed around to a gaggle of friends for review. I'm like the fat girl who says, "But I've tried every diet out there and I'm still fat!"

I've done the respectable ones:
Match - check.
Yahoo! - check.
eHarmony - check.

I've done the niche ones:
Datingcurves - check.
Black & White Singles - check.
Houston Connect - check.

At this point, I'm down to the free shiz because I refuse to pay for rejection; that isn't meant to sound bitter, it's just good fiscal policy. Between the free sites, social networking, friends, family, work colleagues and my own desire to spend as little time as possible watching my mother's new puppy cop a squat on her $300 rug, I get out. You can't tell me I don't, so the idea of paying for the potential to meet...what? Five more guys, perhaps?... it just isn't worth it.

But I'm ranting. Point is, I replied the other week to a cat on Craig's List, who stated a clear preference for curvy girls. I don't know what it is, really, about this last year, but I've become far more cognizant of my weight, for better or worse. After breaking up with Andy (jorts and a ponytail -- sigh, why, Lord, why?) and struggling to find a new job, I packed on probably 10-15 lbs., and I wasn't happy. And I could take the route so many others choose to and blame it on myriad things, but the plain and simple truth is this: I got sad, then self-destructive, apathetic and then lazy.

One of those isn't good, and all of them together is toxic.

Since then, however, I've been more attuned to -- ugh, and kill me for using this phrase -- men who slug their ads with 'BBW.' Would I ever use that phrase? Of course not; it's ridiculous, and whoever created it needs a swift kick in his or her BBW. It's ascinine, mildly offensive (though I can't quite put my finger on how) and serves only to further distance one person from the other. Like we as a country need more labels? It's fucking stupid.

Again, however, I'm digressing. While I hate it, I fully get that some dudes don't like heavier women, and that's quite alright with me. Everyone isn't attracted to everyone - why is that offensive? Women act like men would be doing us a favor to look on the inside and ignore physical attraction; I don't know about anyone else, but I'd prefer to be with a dude who actually wants to spend his time getting it on, not discussing poetry at the coffee shop. Anyone crying foul because someone isn't attracted to them needs a dose of self-esteem. Is this culture biased against bigger people? Probably so -- we're also biased against shorter people, taller people, lighter people, darker people, foreign-born and the uneducated. It's called life, jerk. Man up.

But back to the story -- I replied to this guy on CL who said he was down with the curve. So yay, right? He replies saying I'm funny (of course I am), blah, blah, blah. As the correspondence continues, I'm growing annoyed with each email from him, mostly because they are one-liners. He throws in something about a dead grandmother and I've pretty much had it. Two days go by and he asks if I have photos -- I'm in a rut and do shiz for the story value (as many people well know), so I said sure. I send one and ask if he's got one to share. And nothing.

I assume what is most plausible in situations like these -- he was astonished and disappointed that I'm black. Funny thing, being black. A whole bunch of people say they're cool with dating whomever, but when it gets down to brass tacks, it's not so much the case. And again, I'm fine with that -- go right ahead and deprieve yourself of an entire group of people based on what Disney has told you is the only way to proceed. I have always held the attention of white men over black men (blog on that later) so dating interracially has never even been a conscious decision. It just was.

Growing up in north Austin kind of does that. It's not a thing, it just is. I'm far more concerned about whether or not you're a fool than if you're white or black.

White guys, however, seem oftentimes scared by the prospect of actually engaging what is normally considered a neat little thing to do while spring break. You hook up with black girls... but date them? That's just wacky and weird, man! What if she wants to cook for you? What if, you know, she has her period? What's that like with a black girl? what if she takes her earrings off? Ohhh nooooooessss, we're too different!

Morons.

So I send him my photo, and I don't hear back from him until today... about 10 days later. And ignoring the fact that he sends yet another tired one-liner, his question was completely ascinine: "Do you like white guys?"

This amuses me for a variety of different reasons, not least of which is this: do you think I have a choice? White guys are *everywhere*, man. Even if I had a bias, do you actually think I could live a life in this state - in this city! - without daily contact? There are a lot of types you might have wiggle room with, in terms of friendly dealings, but guess what, hoss -- white men are not them. (and yes, I just called him hoss.) I need them to buy a car and rent an apartment from, just like they need me to safely gain suburban street cred. In case you didn't know, I'm one of those safe kinds of black girls; I can look the part but won't actually get you shot, and I'm as much perplexed by the concept of a ride-or-die chick as you are.

Ride or die, for reals? So let me get this straight: I ride with you, hold you stash, get shot up and go to jail? For YOU? Umm, yeah. I'll be on the bus, brah. For real.

Anyway, I replied and schooled him a bit, which undoubtedly left him butthurt and clueless. Perhaps one day he'll figure it out, but I think I'm really past the point of wanting to teach him... or anyone, for that matter. If you don't get it, I'm not the broad to ask. Not anymore. If you can't see me for me then why in hell should I bother updating your prescription?