suddenlysinglesuzie-blog

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The First Date

We’ll call him Mike, mostly because that’s what he called himself before I discovered otherwise. Turns out, he was middle-eastern, and had a name that went with it. I couldn’t care less, but why fib about your name?  He identified himself as “divorced” for over a year, and aged 49 and 6’1”.  He was sweet, mostly patient with the fact that I was very nervous about dating again, and definitely eager to make a date.  

We set the first date to go dancing on a Saturday night.  Personally, this seems like a bad idea for a 1st date, but I hadn’t been dancing for a long time, so I accepted.  Here’s the problem. This is 2016, and I’m not into the bar scene so this was someone I met on a dating website.  As a woman, there are certain things we need to do to protect ourselves and find our own comfort level.  I arranged a brief meet and greet ahead of the Saturday night date.  This created more questions than answers.

First, I stand 5’8” barefoot, so if a guy fibs about his height, it is going to be immediately obvious. True to form, he was trying to make himself appear taller, and blaming my shoes for how tall I was. (I was wearing a pair of Sketchers joggers, so um…no.) Second, he really appeared a little older that he claimed, so this is a bit off.  Finally, I’m getting a “trying too hard” vibe, which can be either really sweet, or really creepy.  I hadn’t quite figured out which. But…I didn’t call off the date, and we met up at an 80s dance club the following night.

The venue itself was okay, not the best area, but not the end of the world either. I arranged to meet him there as I wasn’t comfortable enough for him to know where I live just yet. 

Note to self: do not allow a 1st date to happen alone at a dance club.  

While he was totally game to dance all night, and an acceptable dancer. (As long as you don’t mind the white guy boogie.)  Frankly, any guy who WILL dance, gets major brownie points from me.  Anyway, the problem with trying to have that “getting to know you” conversation with someone in a loud and crowded dance club.  This guy was a bit pushy with, basically asking me to tell him just how attractive he was.  Honestly, while he works out, and that is fantastic, if you can’t hold a conversation, you could be built like a greek god, and I will get bored.  Plus, he kept asking for kisses. Now I’m no prude, but read the room mister. As the night went on, he started getting really handsy on the dance floor. You know…trying to turn uptempo songs into slow songs and pulling me close.  Plus, since he clearly wasn’t as tall as he claimed, and I am 5’8”, mostly legs, and was rocking a pair of 3” heels, there is a physical complication when trying to dance slow and close, like my knee to his man parts.  Definitely not first-date friendly.

After several hours of dancing, and fighting off aggressive octopus hands for more than an hour, I decided to call it a night. We had the awkward walk to the car and an unwelcome kiss goodnight.  I believed I was very clear in leaving that this was a failed experiment, and tried to let him down gently. He didn’t take the hint.  Then he got frustrated because I wasn’t happy to receive his daily, “here’s me at the gym”, and “here’s me in my underwear” photos and I told him so.  Then he flung a few insults when I refused to reciprocate with intimate photos of myself. Um…No… So, I told him in as plain of terms as possible that I wasn’t interested in dating him. More than a month later, he is still texting me at least once per week, I’ve stopped responding and will eventually block his number.

For the record, I did my research after the first date, there is no record of a divorce filing, and he was mis-stating his age by 7 years.

Lesson learned for me: Trust your gut.  Don’t go if things don’t feel right.  If you feel like going dancing, just go by yourself, its okay, and nobody is going to get all octopus hands on you.

Lesson for the guys: Don’t lie, we will figure it out and lose respect. 2016-1957 = 57, not 50. Read the room.  It doesn’t matter how “polite” we are being, if we aren’t sending you signals that its okay to make your move, don’t.  If you can’t tell, ask.  Just as its your responsibility to obtain consent, its our responsibility to deny consent if we don’t want your advances.

***Update: This clueless Clark actually reached out to me over this past weekend (well over a month after our first date) and insisted he was “ready for my apology.” He actually had the nerve to suggest that by turning down invitations for a second date I was creating “drama.” I really prefer polite discord, but apparently this doesn’t work for some. Painfully blunt reality check delivered, and phone number blocked.   

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[suddenlysinglesuzie-blog]

Diary of a Single 40-Something Woman

Hi there, and thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings.  Before we get too far into this, I’d like to tell you about me.  I’m in my mid-forties, and find myself in a position I never would have imagined.  I’m single and dating again. Frankly, dating is an entirely foreign concept to me.  I was married to my ex-husband and father to my 3 adult sons at the age of 18, and divorced at 32.  I dated briefly following the end of my marriage; apparently, I give off the “relationship vibe” and I quickly settled into a relationship with a man who was in the same situation as I was (separated and working through details of our respective divorces.) For the record, neither of us had anything to do with the demise of our first marriages.

After well over than a decade,  I discovered the man I had been sharing my life with was cheating on me…with a married woman, no less.  This was the catalyst I needed to finally get out of what had been a very unhealthy and emotionally abusive relationship.  There is a lot more to it than this, but nothing that is relevant to the topics I plan to write about here.

Here’s the deal, the vast majority of my friends are married or otherwise attached, so I have no point of reference to understand what it’s like to date as a woman in my forties.  I know I’m not alone, so…I’m sharing my experiences. Perhaps you’ll get a giggle out of my musings, perhaps you’ll be horrified, perhaps you’ll even learn a little something.  One thing I will promise those who follow me on my journey, I won’t be pulling any punches.  I will call out the men, and I will call out myself for being rude, inappropriate, or just plain awful.  At least for now, I’ll leave real names out of it.  As of this writing, I’ve been dating for a little over a month, so I’ve got a little bit to do to bring you up to speed.

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