Dont Mince Words

I didn’t realize it, but apparently gay Target in West Hollywood can be a pickup joint. Instead of winking at me over the salad sneeze guard, he caught me in the facial care aisle while I was thinking about squeezing zits.

I’m not sure if it is stress or the desire to be a teenager again, but I’ve had a pimple breakout of colossal proportions. I went to Target today to buy some Oxy10 or to figure out what the kids are using now. There are so many solutions including three different versions of “just like Proactive.” While I was comparing and contrasting, there was a middle-aged guy eyeballing me and the Clean & Clear.

“Excuse me. Do you know which one of these are good?” he asked. Obviously, with my zits, I probably looked like an authority on benzoyl peroxide and salicylic acid.

“You know, I’m sure they all have some form of alcohol in there, it just depends on what you want to accomplish. Normally, I don’t bother, I make my own astringent out of water and apple cider vinegar,” I admitted.

“Wow, cool, you are into homemade solutions. My name is Tom. What do you do for a living?” he asked in that very LA way.

“Marna. I got laid off in August, so technically I don’t do anything right now,” I said.

Get this. He fist bumped me and gave me a “right on.” He got laid off last month too.

Looks like bad skin might be a side effect of unemployment. I smiled and walked away to get my other items. At checkout, I decided to pickup some candy corn. That’s not bad for your skin, is it?

I know I’ve spent the past six years bemoaning the labor of dating in Los Angeles. I’ve felt like I’ve been one part relationship anthropologist, one part therapist, and an off-and-on investigative journalist. But I know my observations and experiences aren’t far-fetched because I run into men and women everywhere that have similar stories.

I recently connected with an acquaintance from home, also in her mid-40’s, who has lived out here four years. Over lunch we compared and contrasted our dating stories.

“What happened to the old ritual of courting?” she asked. “I feel like I have one or two dates with a guy, then everything after that is a hang-out. They don’t want to do stuff or bother to get to know me.”

I followed that with my thoughts that there are not a lot of masculine men in this town. That theory was confirmed early on by Dr. Pat Allen who said a town with creative men is a town filed with effeminate men who don’t play the male role. They want to be chased… like women. That doesn’t leave us a lot left to date.

My friend also made a comment about conversation. “I learned very quickly to dial it down. I think I offended people because I would not hesitate to offer my opinion.” That made me laugh hysterically because that was one of my first lessons in a corporate environment. “God help you if you have an opinion. You have to keep everything neutral so as to not shock sensitive people,” I added. But a lot of that has to do with the fact we grew up in D.C. Everyone is smart and reads and has opinions about everything. Out here, there are a lot of people who don’t have degrees, let alone advanced degrees. So, girls like us have to dumb it down.

I proceeded to tell her that I had hit the jackpot dating and I felt like all my bad date payforwards were redeemed.

“Get this – I’m dating a guy that has had the same job for 10 years, earned a MBA, owns two cars and some property, is NOT a California native, and is divorced with a wife and kid living across the country. He plans three or four dates a week, picks me up, and doesn’t hesitate to pay,” I told her with great sarcasm.

She was amazed. “So, you have real conversations and real dates.”

Dating is a numbers game, no matter where you live. You just need to know what you want and be patient until you find it. My new friend just left for an internship back in D.C. at the Library of Congress. She’s working on her second master’s degree. She says she’s happy not dating in Los Angeles. “As long as there is good weather, that’s my company.”

I’ve revised the Kubler-Ross grief cycle to consider the emotional states of dating in Los Angeles.

Shock stage – initial paralysis after a few bad first dates and remembering someone telling you you’d have to “import” your men if you lived in Los Angeles.

Denial stage – continuing to date because you can’t believe it is really that bad out there.

Anger stage – frustrated and mad, you now date as if it is a revenge fuck. Each date gives you more writing material and you just get angrier.

Bargaining stage – seeking in vain for a way out of dating. You volunteer more and do anything for distraction.

Depression stage – dating in Los Angeles is not going to change.

Acceptance stage – moving forward by adopting a dog and revising your vibrator collection.

Last night I came to the realization that I may never get laid again. Tex and I watched “Beverly Hills Chihuahua” in bed. With each bark, he’d cock his head and stare at my 20-inch monitor while I giggled. I can’t remember the last time I laughed in bed. At this point, I’m not sure Tex would give up his spot on the queen-sized for a man. Well, maybe for a remastered version of Lady & The Tramp.