Searching for Ms. Short, Ugly Right

I'm completely, totally, and utterly neurotic when it comes to dating. I know this about myself. I overanalyze everything. So, I had my second date with Houston. We meet for delicious Ethiopian food. He has only eaten it twice in his life and I've eaten it quite often so we settle on a nice, quaint place near the theatre district. After dinner, we stroll to the Booth Theatre to see The Pillowman courtesy of his friend who had a role in the play. The play is really good, though it is much darker than I expected. Much darker. But, you know, that is (in part) what made it so good. Broadway has been too Leave it to Beaver for too long. Jeff Goldblum was good, Billy Crudup was great, and the guy who played the part of the brother of Crudup's character was excellent. When the play concluded, Houston alerted me that his friend put us on the back stage list. It was WONDERFUL and such a privilege. It’s not everyday that I have the opportunity to go back stage for a play that won an armful of Tony awards and meet the actors that I’ve just seen perform. (Jeff Goldblum is really, really tall by the way.) We headed to a going away party for another one of Houston’s friends. After a couple of hours spent there, I headed home. Alone, of course. “I think he's gay.” This is Me on the phone with my southern friend Anna-Scarlet the next day. “Why?” Anna-Scarlet. “Something is off. This is the second time that we’ve gone out and I got that feeling again. You know, like he’s out for the evening and I’m just tagging along.” “Why did you feel that way?” “It’s the little things. On our first date when we were cycling, he consistently cycled like 1-2 bike lengths ahead of me.” “And? ... ” “Well, last night, he walked ahead of me in the crowds at Times Square after the show and I had to like run to catch up with him.” “And? …” “And, I think he should cycle beside me and walk beside me. Not that we have to be joined at the hip, but shouldn’t he want to be next to me, talk to me, and learn more about me? I should feel like I am on a date with someone who wants to be on a date with me and I shouldn’t feel like I’m on a date with a man who is on a date with himself and I’m just along for the ride.” “Maybe he’s competitive. Did you ever think about that? Maybe he thought you were racing on the bikes and he wanted to win. Or, that you were running on foot and he wanted to outrun you. It could be anything. He could be dying of terminal cancer in a month and he's distracted. I don’t see how the gay thing comes in there.” “Well, and I leaned in to kiss him on our first date. On the second date, he kissed me for like twenty minutes … and this was only after I asked him if he felt that we were just platonic … and I just …” “Whoa, whoa, whoa … what?!?! You asked him if it was platonic and this is only the second date?!?!” “Well, let me build the context around that one. Okay, so he only gives me one awkward peck on the first date. Shows up late for the second. Doesn’t try to make any moves on me at all at any time during all of this. We go to meet his theater-friend after the play last night and he doesn’t even talk to me that whole time. He abandons me at his other friend’s party, leaving me to either sit by myself or talk to strangers. When he does kiss me … and again, this is only after I tell him that this whole thing feels really platonic … he kisses me with little pecks and without slipping me any tongue whatsoever. Twenty minutes kissing and he didn’t slip me the tongue. This doesn’t make any sense. What man doesn’t want to kiss a woman that he’s supposedly really in to? And he’s so emotionally closed. I asked him to think of one word to describe himself and you know what he said?” “What?” “Tall.” “And … ” as I prepare myself to say it, I feel the guilt creep up. “And, I found his online journal and he had a story on there about dating a woman for several months and not being able to get an erection and there was this other story about showering with this other woman but not having sex with her. And, I know that he’s been with men. At first I thought that he might be bi, but now I really think he’s just closeted.” “You know what the problem is?” I think, Uh-oh, but say, “What?” “Here’s your problem. You're controlling and you’re vain. You're judging him based on what you expect him to do. And, your other problem is that you’re too educated with too much time on your hands; that’s why you Googled the guy’s online journal." She thinks for a moment and then continues. "Maybe it's our line of work," she says. "Sociologists, Psychologists, Anthropologists. We're not normal people when we’re dating. We analyze people for a living and that's not always good.” Now, I think for a moment. “Really, is it fair to judge this man based on your own expectations?" she asks. "You say other men that you've dated are different. Look how well the others worked out. And, you're judging him by what you say other men from your past would or would not do. Is that fair?” Silence. I’m really thinking about it all. Is it possible to be too educated? Do I really have too much time on my hands? Am I being fair? Is he gay? Should I ask a male friend for advice? “Hell-loooo????” Anna-Scarlet in a sing songy southern voice. “Huh?” “I said, ‘is that fair?’” “Yeah, I’m thinking about it.” “Then I’ll answer it for you … Hell no it isn’t fair.” She’s really direct. “And,” she continues, “I saw his picture.” “Yeah?” I wonder where she is going with this. “He looks like Francois.” “Really? I think he looks like Hans.” “Stolie, Hans looks like Francois! You're dating the same damn person over and over again. You need to branch out and try something different. Date different people.” I thought that I was dating different people, but apparently I’m not. Over time, I’ve come to realize that all of my exes, in general, were very liberal, extremely attractive, slender and very in shape, curiously bi-sexual, tall men from other countries with dark hair and light eyes that were ridiculously emotionally unavailable as well as driven and self-absorbed. There are slight variations. Carlos is short; he is from Mexico. Manuel has no motivation because he smokespot all the time. Bryan is (white) American. Wilson is (black) American. Francois has brown eyes. Everyone else, however, fits the bill: hot, foreign and emotionally unavailable. “Date Different people.” Anna-Scarlet urges. “Find someone who has at least one thing in common with you, but doesn’t have any of the other characteristics that you typically go for. Do something different.” “What? Date an ugly man? I'm not going to date an ugly man.” “Then date a woman.” “I'm not going to date a woman.” “Why not?” “For the same reason that I'm not going to date an ugly man: that's just not what I'm looking for right now." “I’m just saying, go for the opposite of what you’ve typically dated.” “So, you’re saying that I should go for a fat, ugly, short, American woman?” “Yes. Why not? The worst thing that could happen is that you’ll waste two hours on the date. Or, you might enjoy it. Or, you might gain a new friend at the very least. Did you see Kissing Jessica Stein?” “Yes.” “And, what happened? That girl made a new friend.” I think about this one for a moment: but would it not be cruel to go on a date with a lesbian? ‘Uh, yeah, I’m a dick chick, but I thought I’d start dating women just to, you know, meet new people and work through a few of my issues regarding dating emotionally unavailable men. How’s your steak?’ It just doesn't seem fair. “I don’t know,” I tell Anna-Scarlet, “I just want a nice guy to like me. To really like me.” “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re dating all these crazy, really liberal, really curious men because you’re not a nice, neat package of a person yourself?” She pauses for a response, but I don’t know how to respond. “Really,“ she continues, “you’re dating men who have issues like you have issues and that just doesn‘t work. You move from city to city, person to person, and you‘re always into something different. And, that who you’re dating.” “Gee, thanks. And to think, some people have enemies to tell them things like that. I don't need enemies, I have friends.” “I'm just honest, Stolie. Loose cannons are just that, two loose cannons together. What you need is a quiet homebody who knows how to compromise.” In the last year friends have told me variations of the same thing and it all boils down to this: I’m dating the same guy over and over again and it’s not working. But, I wonder, if I don’t know how I’m gravitating to these people, I don’t know how to not gravitate toward them. And, not to mention, I can’t control what I find attractive. I'm not attracted to women the way that I'm attracted to men. I'm not attracted to really short men, or bald men, or fat men, or stupid men or a host of other men. Hmmm … this whole dating stuff can be pretty complicated ...