Dont Mince Words

Tonight I had a date with a PhD-holding Angeleno who was in town for interivews.  It was an exciting time because I haven’t had a date with a smart person my age in a very, very long time.  As expected, the conversation flowed.  The beer didn’t.

He requested that we meet at a pub, so I recommended a local microbrewery near his hotel.  Imagine my horror when I walked up and he was drinking Budweiser.  WTF.  You are smart.  Surely you can pick a fine local draft with better flavor.  We continued to chatter and when he finished his first, the waitress asked if he’d like another.  “No, I have to leave at 5,” he replied.  Of course, I ordered a second brown ale and calimari because I’m a whore for draft beer and good bar food.  And I thought, you know, this was a date.

At 4:55 p.m., he tossed a 20 dollar bill on the table and got up, hugged me, and said he had to get going to prep for his interviews.  I thanked him and told him I was going to stay to finish my beer.  I did that, checked my email, checked-in to Foursquare, and made sure the waitress was tipped.  I then walked home in the other direction so I could walk by a few shops on State Street before closing.

Imagine my surprise when Mr. Interview Prep walked up behind me and passed me.  No hi, no nothing.  He had a fast stride and was walking like he was late.  I followed him until he turned in to another bar.  I’m all about maximizing time and speed dating, but if it had been me, I would of scheduled the dates farther apart and certainly found bars closer together.

Not so smart after all. But the Bud was the giveaway.

I know I’ve threatened, after sampling the lack-luster Santa Barbara dating pool, to go back to Los Angeles to date.  I finally did and I can safely say I’m so happy I adopted a dog for companionship.

My new target market is old guys – or men who have kids that are off to college and they are safely divorced and possibly ready for another long-term relationship.  This means 50+.  Past mid-life and dating bimbos.  This guy seemed like a catch right down to the fact he was from New England.

We met in Santa Monica and I was sure I’d recognize him because he had a Ned Flanders (Simpsons) mustache.  But to be on the safe side, because you never know with pictures, I told him to look for the tall redhead.  I know I shouldn’t be ageist, but I really wish I could be a cougar again.  And I know I’m older and I have no room to talk.  But Ned, 56,  wore a washed out yellow polo, super light blue jeans, and bright white sneakers.  My favorite accessory was a knee brace which he chose to wear on the outside of his jeans.

I tried to let all that slide.  I ordered a spinach omelette.  He had a club which he ate while he talked about himself.  I smiled and nodded secretly thankful that Dixie was in the car waiting to bail me out.  I hugged and cheek kissed him goodbye 90 minutes after our brunch and dove into my car.

Three hours and 90 miles later, Dixie and I were home.  “We’re never doing that again,” I told the dog as we settled on the couch to spend the evening watching Netflix.

Dating overlap

When I was growing up, dangerous behavior was having unprotected sex.  Now it’s going on an Internet date without seeing a picture first.  I’m bored and living dangerously in Santa Barbara.

I subscribe to the girl’s-gotta-drink rule, so meeting for a coffee is the easiest date out there.  Barney was too late to buy my $3 herbal tea, but we did enjoy 70 minutes of good conversation with overlapping interests.  We walked to our cars, kissed on the cheeks, hugged out, booked another date soon, and waved goodbye.

By the time I got home, a coworker texted to see how ugly he was.  I told her it was a good time and he looked like Alan Arkin with cool glasses.  “Is his name Barney?” she asked.

Welcome to Santa Barbara dating overlap which I expect happens to the two dozen straight single people 40+ that live here.  What is funnier is my friend has been divorced for 60 days and just started dating again.  But I guess we shouldn’t feel bad, a 32 year-old male coworker told me he now dates in Los Angeles for the same reasons.

Time to put the Honda in for a tune-up and go back to what I know:  the wide variety of fruits, nuts, and flakes that is the City of Angels.