An acquaintance of mine was having a mixer for her clients. She insisted that I attend. I reluctantly headed over to Nic’s in Beverly Hills after work. I was all about new adventures and breaking out of my comfort zone these days. As soon as I walked into the door my friend ran up to me and gave me a big hug. As she hugged me she whispered in my ear, “There’s someone here I want you to meet.” Okay. I didn’t mind getting set up. It’s always nice to meet someone that came with references. I would have preferred to get a heads up. I might have gotten a little more dressed up for the occasion. First things first, I headed over to the bar and got a Lemon Blush martini that Nic’s is so famous for. As the bartender handed over my martini, my friend was leading a guy over to me. He was probably about 5”9. He was one of those guys who worked out… too much. He was too damn buff/borderline stocky. I could tell if he stopped working out those swollen muscles would turn into flab. He wore glasses and had on a pair of slacks and a tucked in button down shirt. He wasn’t unattractive but he wasn’t my type. He was what I would call… Beige. Meaning he didn’t do it for me, he was just plain and uneventful. When I saw him my mind didn’t automatically think about him tearing my clothes off and throwing me on the bed and having his way with me. But I wasn’t repulsed or turned off. What most men don’t realize is most women know whether or not they want to fuck you within 5 minutes of meeting a guy. But one of two things happen:
1- We meet and are turned on by you and figuring out ways to hold out and then a man will say or do something so stupid they lose their chance of getting any
2- We meet and there isn’t an initial connection but within time you sweep us off our feet that before we realize it we are in a vertical position in the midst of passion.
“Warren” was definitely in category 2. My friend introduced us and she was grinning from ear to ear like she won a pageant. “Warren” was in finance and had recently started his own financial consulting company. He was 38, never married, and no kids. We made our introductions and I politely excused myself and had a one on one with my girlfriend. I was always leery of a single girlfriend introducing me to a guy. My first question was if he was so great why in the hell didn’t she date him? Her response was the typical response I get when I asked that question. “Girl, he’s like a brother to me.” I looked her in her eyes took a sip of my cocktail. Mmmmm…hmmm. A brother? I read through her bullshit. He was too short, too stocky and too nerdy and she was pushing this man off on me. I looked around the mixer and didn’t see anyone worth getting to know. When I saw “Warren” sitting at a table by himself drinking a beer I decided to go have a conversation with him. The traffic was still heavy heading back over the hill and I certainly wasn’t in the mood to unleash my road rage by sitting in traffic. I took a deep breath, ordered another martini and went over to “Warren.”
Me: Is anyone sitting here?
Warren: You are.
Me: Are you having fun?
Warren: It’s alright. You know your girl threatened if I didn’t come here tonight I would be losing one of my testicles.
Let me find out Mr. Stocky had a sense of humor. I sat there and talked to him for the next hour. He had a great sense of humor and was somewhat charming. It was definitely a pleasant surprise.
Warren: I would love to take you out this weekend.
Me: Really? Where?
Warren: Let me surprise you. What’s your favorite kind of food?
Me: I love sushi.
Warren: Say no more. I’ll pick you up Saturday at 7.
Me: I don’t usually let strangers pick me up. You could be a serial killer or some shit like that.
Warren: You have a reliable reference. Besides I’m kind of old school. I like courting a woman.
Before I knew it I was giving “Warren” my address and cell phone number. Saturday rolled around and I found myself meeting “Warren” outside of my home in his silver corvette. YUCK!!! I always considered Corvettes to be the poor man’s Porsche. I hated them. They were so… common. But whatever, I got into his pride and joy. I could tell he really thought he was doing something. Then of course, as usual I had to talk to my inner diva. “Stop being a bitch. Give the guy a chance.” I found myself constantly having to tame my inner diva these days. I rolled my eyes and decided to make the best of the evening. While we were in the car his mother called. Instead of taking her off speaker phone Warren answered it.
Warren: Hey mom! What’s up?
Warren’s Mom: Just checking on my baby.
Warren: I’m good. I’m heading out to dinner with the young lady I told you about.
What the fuck? He told his mother about me. I wasn’t ready for all of this. Even worse, was this man a momma’s boy? I was married to one of those and the thought of being with another momma’s boy sent me into panic mode. I wanted to jump out of the moving car.
Warren’s Mom: Well hello there!
Me: Uh…. Hello.
Warren’s Mom: You all have fun now. Take care of my boy.
I looked over at “Warren” and he was beaming with joy. This is why I take my own car to dates. I was officially stuck with him for the rest of the night. When we got to valet and went up the elevator we were greeted with a spectacular view of downtown LA. He took me to Takami Sushi. I was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps I was rushing to judgment on “Warren.” Suddenly the stocky framed nerdy guy was automatically elevated to possible boyfriend status. When the waitress came up to the table he ordered a bottle of expensive Zinfandel Red Wine. I was impressed. He knew his wines. Sometimes great things are discovered in stocky packages. The conversation ensued.
Warren: I hope I picked a good spot.
Me: You picked well. I’m so used to trying to control things so I am pleasantly surprised.
Warren: Good! So, what’s your story?
Oh shit. I hated that question. This was the only thing I hated about dating, that awkward conversation that must happen. You know the typical. Why are you single? What are you looking for? If I could skip over that shit, dating would be so much easier.
Me: What do you mean?
Warren: You’re obviously a beautiful woman. Why hasn’t someone snatched you up?
I became an expert at diverting those kinds of questions.
Me: Why hasn’t someone snatched you up?
Warren: Who me? I have no idea. I know I’m sexy…
He then leaned back in his chair and simulated the act of tweaking his nipples. He thought he was being funny. But I was disgusted. I came close to throwing up in my mouth. I took a chug of my wine. Looked out the window at the beautiful skyline of Downtown LA and tried not to run out of the restaurant. I think “Warren” sensed my disgust and tried to back pedal.
Warren: There was once a time when I was so pressed to get married. It was all I wanted. I found myself getting depressed because I couldn’t meet the right woman. Then I made the decision to let go and let God.
Me: I can certainly understand that. So you’re a very religious man,
Warren: Absolutely. I love the Lord.
Warren: I’m very active in my church. Many people think I have the gift to eventually become a Pastor.
I took another chug of my wine. I had been around those super duper religious folks who judged everyone and were the most hypercritical people you could ever meet. I knew I wanted a man who was a Christian and who was spiritual but I had no intentions of being trapped by one of those super duper religious men again. I had just gotten out of that and realized that wasn’t for me. But I decided to hear this man out. I couldn’t assume that all people were alike. I was keenly aware that I still had left over crumbs from my marriage and I didn’t want to let that baggage ruin it for the next guy.
ME: A Pastor? That would mean if you and I ended up together I would be a first lady?
Warren: Yeah. I would expect you to become active in my church as well. I run the youth ministry and Sunday school. It is definitely a calling for me.
I immediately had flashback to being forced to go to my ex’s church and living short of his expectations. As well as the hypocrisy of what was preached and what was being practiced. Don’t get me wrong. I go to church every Sunday and I know I wouldn’t be where I was if it wasn’t for my faith. But the idea of being with another man who was blinded by his “religious beliefs” freaked me out.
Me: I already have a church home of my own that I love.
Warren: You’d like my church.
Me: So you’re looking for a missionary type huh?
Warren: I never thought of it like that. But I am looking for a woman of the cloth.
ME: So once you become Pastor of you church. What if one of your congregants came in here and saw you and I sitting here having a bottle of this wine?
Warren: That wouldn’t happen. Once I dedicated my life to the Lord in that way, I would no longer give in to the flesh.
I suddenly envisioned myself wearing calf length skirts, white gloves, and a big hat. I thought about the idea of never having wine. Or worse yet, sneaking it when my “husband” was preaching at his church. I thought about once again being in the bondage. And I freaked out. I literally had a hot flash.
Warren: Are you alright?
Me: (fanning myself with a napkin) I’m sorry Warren. But I just got out of a situation where I was with a “religious” man and it was complete hypocrisy. I’m not a missionary. I like my wine, I like to party, I like to live life on my own terms. Don’t get me wrong. I go to church. I pray every day. And I know if it weren’t for my faith I wouldn’t have made it to where I am now, But I could never be a preacher’s wife or a Missionary. Is that what you ultimately are looking for?
Warren: (long awkward pause) Well, yes. It is.
Me: Then I’m not the one for you.
We left dinner and the ride home was uncomfortably silent. “Warren” walked me to my door. And suddenly he grabbed for me and kissed me and shoved his tongue down my throat. I pushed him away. And he looked at me completely confused.
Me: What is your problem?! I don’t know you like that! This is our first date. I thought you were a man of the cloth!
Warren: I’m not yet. Can I come inside?
Me: Are you serious?
Warren looked at me confused. I went into my house and slammed the door in his face. I realized I probably over reacted. But I could not ever put myself into a situation when I was boxed into the ideology of someone else and their wants. And again, I don’t want to come off like I am a heathen. But I am not a missionary. The idea of become a Pastor’s wife was not for me. I realized “Warren” was one of those guys who had a picture of what his life was supposed to be and any woman who came into his life had to be willing to fit into his picture. More importantly, that wasn’t who “Warren” was. I never wanted to be in a situation where a man was conflicted between who he really and truly was and what he thought he was supposed to be.
After I washed my face and put on my pajamas. I couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning. So I got out of the bed and went into my meditation room. I got on my knees and I prayed. I prayed that I would find the husband God wanted me to have. I prayed that all the residuals from my broken hurt were cleared. I prayed that I met the man who was right for me. More importantly when I met him I wouldn’t mess it up and he would be ready. I finally reached a point where I knew I couldn’t do it on my own. After I finished praying, I got back into my bed and I fell to sleep right away. I knew I had faith that I was going to get it right. I surrendered and acknowledged that it was no longer in my hands. You don’t have to be a Missionary to realize that at the end of the day this dating thing and meeting Mr. Right isn’t in your own hands. You had to be willing to ask for help and guidance. And I was finally at peace….
After my Ghosts of Dates Past (see last post) I was still in dating purgatory. I was still in “beat my self up mode.” So I decided to open myself up to dating and not be so quick to turn a “good” guy down. Enter “Andre.” We met at a party of a friend of a friend. What I appreciated about “Andre” is he saw me from across the room and walked to me and bought me a drink. A man walking across a room was unheard of in LA. And buying a drink? Priceless. “Andre” was 41, single, no kids, 6’1, with a great body. He was a successful business owner who invested in a chain of fast food restaurants. However, “Andre” was not good looking AT ALL. He had the biggest nose I had ever seen. The damn thing went from one side of his face to the other… literally. And don’t get me wrong, my nose isn’t exactly petite. But shit, this man had a HONKER! We exchanged numbers and 3 days later I found myself sitting across from his nose… I meant him. At an organic café in Venice called Gratitude Café. He had a great sense of humor. And he was easy to talk to. I really tried to focus on his eyes and the great conversation. But I found myself continuously focusing on his nose. I already know I sound like the shallowest bitch you have ever met. But I couldn’t help but think about my future children. What if I had a daughter, who was a spinning image of her father?! I couldn’t do that to my future child. I wasn’t about to mix my good genes with just any gene pool. And you already know, if you have an unattractive son, as long as he is smart and has money making potential or is great at sports, he’ll be okay, but an ugly little girl? She doesn’t have chance. And as usual I had to have a heart to heart with myself. I said, “Alright now, you just ran into two former guys you dated that you let get away. Don’t fuck this up! Give this brotha a chance! You can take your daughter to have her first nose job when she turns 16. Stop tripping. Besides, this man will adore you. He’ll give you the world. It’s always better to have a man that loves you a little bit more.”
I figured, this man would be so happy to be with me he would pull out all the stops. It was a win-win situation for me. Clearly this man was going to give me the world because he knew he had a prize! With that, I put my shallow inner diva back in her place and decided to give this man a chance. After our initial date “Andre” called me every day. He would text me throughout the day to let me know he was thinking about me. It was refreshing. He was smitten and the Leo in me enjoyed the attention. I was beginning to understand the Beauty and the Beast Dating mentality. When you are a beautiful woman dating a man who isn’t super duper fine those men tend to dote on you and really give you their all. He asked me out on another date immediately. And the next week, we were out at a The Lobster at the Santa Monica Pier. I decided to really get to know this man. We talked about our childhood and how we grew up. We also talked about some of our favorite places to travel too.
Andre: I think my favorite place so far was Aruba.
Me: I heard Aruba has the most beautiful white sand beaches.
Andre: The beaches are beautiful. How about you?
Me: I think my favorite spot by far was Bora Bora.
Andre: Bora Bora? That’s like fantasy Island. Did you go with your girls there?
I have to admit I was a little taken aback. I didn’t ask him who he went to Aruba with. Shit, I already knew it was another woman but I didn’t give a shit. So I had two choices here, I could either say yeah I went with some miscellaneous dude I was dating and open myself up for more questioning or go ahead and tell this fool I went there for my honeymoon with my ex-husband. I decided on the latter.
Me: (I took a sip of my Cake Bread Pinot Noir) I actually went there on my honeymoon.
Andre: (obviously uncomfortable) You were married?
Andre: (taking a long sip of his beer) Are you still married?
Me: If I was still married I wouldn’t be here with you.
Andre: Is the divorce final?
Andre: Do you two still talk?
Me: (somewhat getting annoyed by the cross examination) No. I haven’t spoken to him since the day I left. And before you ask there is no chance of us getting back together.
Andre: I just had to ask. I was once in a situation where I fell for a woman and she ended up getting back with her ex-husband.
Me: There isn’t a chance in hell I would get back with my ex. (changing the topic) What about you?
Andre: I’m not married.
Me: I know that. But what’s your dating situation? Do you have a girlfriend?
ME: Is there a woman out there who thinks she’s your girlfriend.
This is an important question to ask a man. Some men date and lead women on to think they are in a serious committed relationship. So I needed to know the Tea!
Andre: That is a good question (pauses for a moment). No. When I am in a relationship with someone it is clear.
Andre: I have to admit me and my ex are on and off.
Andre: Yeah. I have a tendency to fall into old habits. I think we get comfortable and before we know it we are back on again.
Me: So right now you all are in an off situation? That’s not good for me. What if I end up really liking you and then you end up going back to your ex?
Andre: That’s not going to happen.
ME: But how do you know?
Andre: I know.
The date ended and “Andre” walked me to my car. He gave me a hug and made me promise I would text him as soon as I got home. Which I did, however, I noticed he didn’t respond right away like he did on the first date. He texted me the next morning (late morning). I didn’t really think too much about it because to be honest I really didn’t give a shit. That next week his phone calls and text messages decreased. I found it so interesting. I didn’t even like this man; I wasn’t attracted to him at all. And my non-attraction was confirmed when pictures surfaced from the party we met at and there was a picture of him… and his nose and it solidified if I was going to date this man he was going to have to move mountains! He certainly couldn’t be put off that i was married before. Typically when men find this out they are put at ease because they don’t feel the pressure of having to rush things. But then I replayed our conversation. And my mind focused on what he said about him and his ex being on and off again. I kept that in my mental Rolodex
I noticed his typical sweet text messages he had sent during the week prior didn’t happen. He and I did a round of phone tag the next day but weren’t able to connect. He sent me a text message the following day.
Andre: I was at Hal’s last night. Have a great Monday.
Me: Thanks. You too.
And he didn’t call me or text me the next day. I was completely turned off. Was this 41 year old man playing the “Get out of dodge for Valentine’s Day” game? Valentine’s Day was the next day and I was curious what his game was. He couldn’t seriously be playing the disappearing act so he didn’t have to do anything for Valentine’s Day. I expected that type of foolishness from young guys but certainly not from an older man who I wasn’t even attracted to. He gave me a call. At first I wasn’t going to answer, but I was really in the mood to be amused by what the hell he had to say.
Me: (rolling my eyes) Hello?
Andre: Hey, how are you?
Me: I’m good how are you?
Andre: Trying to get a new identity. Tired of being me.
Me: Wow! What’s going on?
Andre: I’m just mentally tired. The ex, work, family…
So… That’s his angle. He was going to try to play the sympathy card. I could give two shits about his ex. And I certainly wasn’t going to ask him for more detail. He obviously got back together with her or whatever. I really didn’t care! How transparent can a man be?!
Me: I’m sorry to hear that. Hang in there. Things will get better.
Andre: I’m trying. Thanks… Well I just wanted to touch base with you.
For a mere second I thought he was going to actually make plans to take me out for Valentine’s Day. Just for a nano second….
Andre: Well. Have a good night. I’ll talk to you later.
Me: You too Andre. Good luck with everything.
I hung the phone up and I just started cracking up. And suddenly I rose above my mini dating depression and I was released from purgatory. Here I was trying to make something out of nothing with a man I wasn’t attracted to just to prove I wasn’t a person who jumped the gun too quick. You can’t keep me down for too long! Here I was questioning all of my past dating decisions and wishing I could rewind the hands of time to relive my dating past. Then I realized, I know what is best for me. I will no longer allow myself to second guess if I am being shallow by not giving a man who I am not attracted to a chance. Here was a guy who was UGLY! But I was giving him a chance and he wasn’t acting right. Shit! I’ll be damned if the ugly man doesn’t adore me and treat me like a princess. From that moment forward, I made a clear decision that if I am not attracted to a man, I WOULD NOT give him the time of day. I wouldn’t let my married friends try to make me feel like I was being shallow. I wouldn’t allow myself to second guess my decision. Because when you give a man a chance who you don’t even like in the first damn place and he fucks up, you’re left wondering, why in the hell did I waste my time. When Pinocchio decides he’s not going to treat me like a queen and I gave him the time of the day guess who I am pissed off with? ME! I know what’s best for me. Sometimes, Valentine’s Day rolls around and we start to question our dating and if we really know what is best for us. Or if our past dating decisions were wise ones. At the end of the day, we know what we need, desire, and want. And we must never allow ourselves to second guess that. Women have intuition for a reason. Now, if you meet a man who you’re not attracted to but he does what it takes to win you over, well that a different story. But if he is playing games and not sure about what he wants… keep it moving. Hell, that applies for the fine men too! I decided I was going to spend my Valentine’s Day with the most amazing person on the planet. I was going to cook a great meal, buy an expensive bottle of wine, and allow myself to take care of my Valentine… ME! Why settle for less when you have everything within you? You know what’s best for you and if you haven’t found it yet, don’t force it just so you can say you had a Valentine. Be true to you! You know what’s best. Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!
©Monique Kelley and Confessions of A Serial Dater In LA, 2013-2018 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Monique Kelley and Confessions of A Serial Dater In LA with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. Copying my posts and changing some of the words is still plagiarism.