Bars are the new online dating

Last night my company softball team played in one of the final games of the season.  We’re pretty terrible (we’re reliably bad in the 6^th and 7^th innings, and we only play 7 innings), so it’s highly unlikely that we’ll be making the playoffs this year.

Before the game got started, we were watching our opponents hold some batting practice.  And DAMN, they were good.  We stood on the baseline waiting and I was basically like, “well, it’s been fun guys, but we’re going to lose. Could someone grab me another beer?”

But you know what, internet? WE WON. 11-8. It was an awesome game, everyone played well, and for once we drank all the beer we brought to the game.

After every game, the whole league goes to The Blackthorn bar in Southie for drinks, and the bar (thanking us for our drunken weeknight patronage) buys pizzas for all the teams. When we got to the bar, most of the other team was there too, drinking and having an awesome time.  As it’s a beer league, most of the teams are really great sportsmen and there is love, not hatred, even after losing a game.  My friend Cara (who is a lesbian) was on the other team and when she gets drunk she tends to hit on me, which is always a nice confidence booster (note: she knows I’m straight).  I like her personality a lot, but we really only see each other at softball games, so we were chatting and catching up. Later in the evening she said, “ok, pretend you’re dancing with me, I have to tell you something.” She then tells me how her male teammate behind her (who was pretty cute) had wanted her to tell me that he wanted to sleep with me.

Oh wow, what was that? Oh I see; that’s my self-confidence, FLYING HIGH.

Of course at this point it was late (about 10:45pm) and a school night; we were about to leave. Cara and I talked about him a little, I laughed a lot, and then I told her that I thought he was cute, but it was lame that he sent her over to talk to me like we were in 7^th grade. As my team was heading to the door, I said my goodbyes and told her he could have my number if he would man up and talk to me himself.

And THEN, in the most shining moment of my life to date —  this guy (whose name I don’t even know) was on the sidewalk outside of the bar talking to one of his teammates.  As I walked by, I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “you get some balls, and then we can talk.  But don’t send your girl out to do your work.”

(crowd cheering, thunderous applause)

Then I walked away.

Of course, now I’m like, “WE HAVE TO MAKE THE PLAYOFFS SO I CAN SEE THIS GUY AGAIN.” But really, even if I never see/talk to him, I am so proud of myself for this behavior. I’m glad I was drunk enough to even do it.  Normally I would have just ignored him because I’m shy and timid. But the game win + Clara hitting on me + his request = … man, it was a good night.

Today’s hangover is totally worth it.

In other news, date #2 with Brad tonight, because I’m a sucker and I think he needs friends. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I want you, I need you. Oh baby. Oh baby.

I know you’re all sitting on the edges of your desk chairs and couches wondering, “what’s going on with Lizzie and Scott-Bell-in-Hand?!”  Well, I’m here to tell you:

I have no effing idea.

We’ve texted back and forth for weeks now, but I don’t seem to have any really motivator to make me care about him.  About a week ago he texted and I shared that I had made myself a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast for dinner, and we discussed the possibility of getting breakfast for dinner together.  While I LOVE the idea of breakfast for dinner (I mean, who doesn’t?), somehow I just can’t embrace the idea of going with him.

Which is sad, really.  What’s wrong with me that I don’t want to go out with this guy now? Has anything changed since we last agreed to go out? The only thing I can think is that I’m now subconsciously afraid that he will cancel on me again.  Which, judging by his texting habits, is not really something I should be worried about.

I think my real issue is deeper than a casual worry of being stood-up.  I think my mind (although it was drunk at the time) knows that I’m not really attracted to him.  Lately I’ve been thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve been passionate about anyone.  I can’t even say that I was passionate about my last serious boyfriend.  With him, it was an intense friendship, but nothing stronger. Maybe missing that spark back then is finally starting to catch up with me now?

What I miss is that uncontrollable urge.  That, “I need you, I want you, RIGHT NOW” kind of feeling. Now, (of course) the times I can remember having that feeling, it was for men who were not at all good for me.  I had it for my asshole-college boyfriend like crazy.  The guy who broke up with me, broke my heart, and all my friends said to me, “thank god, I hated him.” ISN’T THAT TYPICAL.

Do you think that’s it’s possible that the person that makes your heart flutter can also treat you like a decent human being? Is it possible that you can have a healthy relationship with someone who gets so far inside your head?  Or am I just day dreaming?

Maybe the romance of the Hollywood movie industry has just gotten to me.

Should I give Scott-Bell-in-Hand a text? Is it worth going on one date, or is that even wasting my time? Is it worthwhile to hold out for something that may or may not even exist?

Wow, that’s a lot of uncertainly.  WAY TO GO LIZZIE.

You can be pissy. We can drink tonight if you want

Scott-Bell-in-Hand and I were supposed to go out to dinner tonight to Frank’s Steakhouse outside of Davis Square.  I just got a text from him:

So this sucks but I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight cause I’m sick, it started yesturday and only got worse.  Hope we might be able to reschedule though.

First things first.  That is not a typo, that’s how he spelled YESTERDAY.  But I will deal with that in a moment. Let me being by sharing my thoughts about this development.

We’ve been texting back and forth all week — he’s a pretty heavy texter as I mentioned.  As of late, I’ve noticed that most of his texts are rather boring.  While I take this to mean that he’s just a boring person, my roommate has urged me to be optimistic and said, “maybe he’s just a boring texter! It’s possible!” Either way, as nice as it was to be going on a date, I was a little reluctant (ok, am I ever not?). Plus, as I may or may not have expressed, going on a first date is really hard.  You have to psych yourself up for it, get your mind ready, get your heart ready, prep your face and your mind to be engaging and clever …  and this week I’m not  sure I held the energy for all that. It’s even harder when you’re not really sure that you’re attracted to the guy (or remember what he looks like).  I found myself having a hard time getting excited about the evening.

The one thing I did get excited about was the dinner itself, and I think the saddest part of the cancellation is not going to Frank’s.  I’ve been looking at the menu all morning, and had decided on the petite filet.  I mentioned at lunch today that I was going on a date, and when I told a coworker where we would be dining he got really excited and said, “Ooooh! I’ve always wanted to go there! Take notes and let me know how it is.”  A few others in the group agreed with him. I suppose this just means that I will have to drag a friend there ASAP.

Still, having someone break a date is such difficult thing – no matter what their reasoning or how you feel about them.  It kind of sucks: no matter how un-excited you are, it still feels like rejection (even if he’s claiming illness).  And then it’s hard to tell if they genuine, especially through a text. Are they lying? Is he really sick or did he just not want to go out with me? And then there is the anger.  “Wait, why is HE rejecting ME?! I’m not the boring one!”

Anyway, I texted back saying how sorry I was that he was sick, and agreed that we will definitely reschedule some other time when he’s feeling better.

Now, the other thing.  The faulty spelling.  I once met a cute guy in Starbucks and gave him my number when he asked, but didn’t end up going out with him because he kept texting me like a teenage girl.  He would have spelled that “gurl.”  I couldn’t handle the exchanges, and I knew the “relationship” was doomed.  It was such a strong turnoff, and I wasn’t even an editor yet! I was a lowly bookseller at Barnes and Noble. But even then I had my standards.

Just so we’re clear, “yesturday” is not a typo.  It’s not a texting/autocorrect error. The U and the E are no where near each other on a keyboard or the buttons on phones (yes I thought about that).  “Yestu” is not the start of a word, there is no reason his phone would “correct” it to that.

I’m sure I’ll say yes when he calls, I’m sure we will reschedule, but my opinions of him have definitely changed.  I can already see myself being even more overly critical of his dinner conversation and behavior now that I know he can’t spell “yesterday.”

Scott-Bell-In-Hand

(When you combine the dating I’ve been doing and my flaky mind, you have to keep them straight somehow.)

As I mentioned, I met a guy out on Friday night (at Bell In Hand). As I was walking home from a wine / clothing swap gathering at a friend’s on Wednesday night, he texted.  I had two large (and heavy!) bags of clothes with me as I walked up the hill home from Davis Square, so I had to stop and put everything down to text back.  I was also drunk enough that I had to stop to even read (and absorb) what each message said, but that’s not the point here.

It was a solid, flirtatious text exchange that lasted my 20 minute walk and continued once I was home.  He seems to be an avid texter and a quick responder, which weirdly calms my talking-to-a-new-guy anxiety. I have no idea if he’s one of those people who always has one hand on their cell, or if he was anxiously awaiting my responses, but it doesn’t even matter. It’s a relief to receive a speedy response to a text from a guy.

Anyway, in the course of the conversation I admitted that I didn’t remember much about our interaction from Friday, and he then asked me how textbooks were treating me.  That means not only did we actually talked about what I do, but he remembered the discussion.  OOPS. Turns out I remember ALMOST NOTHING about our conversation, which lasted at least an hour, give or take.

Some facts about Scott (acquired from our texting and my shitty memory):

He lives in New Hampshire (assumption is that he has a car).

He works programming optical devices (like night vision stuff) at a government contracted company.

Sometimes he wears baseball hats to bars.

He watches hockey on Wednesday nights.

My main concern at the moment is that I can’t clearly remember what he looks like.  I remember he was short (well, not much taller than me I don’t think) and kind of stocky (in an athletic way, I think?).  I have issues remembering visual details when I’ve been drinking, so his face is a total blur.  I remember where we were talking, what was around us, and even most of my movement that night.  But I can’t remember his face at all.

Because I had been drinking, I was bold enough to text, “we’ll have to find a time for you to buy me dinner.” He agreed (after giving me fake flack about how presumptuous I was being), and so hopefully we’ll go out next weekend.

In the meantime, I’m dying to Facebook him to get a good look at his face.  But I don’t know his last name.  I’m trying to think of a clever way to ask it, but I’m sure he’ll see right through whatever line I give him. Maybe I’ll just come right out and say “I need to google you.  last name please.”  I’ve come to rely on profile photos to more accurately gauge the attractiveness of the person I’ve agreed to go out with.  This “going in blind” approach is not an ideal one.

Viv suggested that from now on I have to make them give me their last names when we exchange numbers — her approach is to claim she already has someone in her phone with their first name.  That way the Facebook stalking can commence the very next morning if necessary.