Just Friends

I meet regularly with my ex-roommate, Jason. (Yes, I’ve had a few!) We go for lunch and discuss our dating woes. I get the male perspective. According to him, women do their share of disappointing prospective suitors.

“I really get annoyed when women write on their profile that their weight is ‘average.’ So many write that and then, during our correspondence, weight comes up and they tell me they’re tipping the scales at one-eighty. Now, I’m six feet tall and I weigh close to two hundred… how can a five-foot-four female weighing that much describe her body type as ‘average’? I mean, come on Adrienne, do they think the guys they meet don’t have vision?”

“I think that the worst thing to see in a man’s eyes is disappointment. I don’t know why they would do that. Surely, she knows the man’s going to be upset when he finds out she obviously lied.”

We were sitting across from each other in the Food Fair on Granville Island, a quaint spot known to tourists and locals alike. A great people-watching place.

“And another pet peeve of mine… women who write on their profile that they ‘like to go for appies and a drink.’ Appies? I freaking hate anyone who says something like that. It isn’t the word; it’s what it represents. The kind of woman who would say something like that is a lemming. She just follows the pack.”

“Are you serious? You’ve cancelled a date because she used the word ‘appies’? ”

“Yup. Absolutely.” He was resolute.

“I hate the word ‘burger.’ I cringe when anyone says that. It should be ‘hamburger’.”

“Deal breaker?”

“Deal breaker.”

“And these women who write, ‘…I’m always on the go!’ What the hell is that? ‘Why are you always on the go?’ is my question. ‘Can’t you sit still for a couple of hours and just… say… talk to me?’ Always on the go—jeez, I hate that.”

“And what’s with the guys holding a dead fish? Why do men think that’s a lure of some kind? Like I don’t mind fishing, but why publish it on a website looking for a partner? Does he think, ‘He who has the biggest fish is the bigger man?'”

“I know, I know, get a load of this: There’s this one woman who has been online for a long time, off and on. Every photo has her head cocked to one side… you know? Trying to be cute. She is cute, but in every picture the head is tilted. I just want to write and say, ‘Is your neck broken? Can you please post with your head straight?’ ” He flopped like a puppet with a big smile.

“And then the question of ‘who pays?’ Really, Jase, me and my friends all think that if a guy is inviting you out for dinner, he should pay. If it’s coffee, fine. The woman buys her own, but we think men are using equal rights to their advantage. Correction… some men.”

“Personally, Adrienne, I would be insulted if the woman did not offer to pay her half.”

Hmmm.  We fell into comfortable silence. We don’t always agree on things, but somehow we remain respectful of our differences.

“These women who have been on the sites for years are obviously looking for something that doesn’t exist,” he broke the silence. “They write that they want someone like Brad Pitt, and man, they are delusional. He just doesn’t exist. They’re holding out for something or someone that they’ve dreamed up in their heads.”

“Men are no different. Many have been online for eons… and they’re looking for a woman twenty years younger… and there’s the guy with a body that has been served way too many beers and pasta. So many really have nothing to offer. I’ve been on for a long time, Jase, and I don’t think I’m looking for anything extraordinary. Someone at work found out I was still internet dating and she figures that I am just addicted to the sites. I told her that it makes me feel like I’m not giving up.”

“I haven’t been on for a long time. I’m taking a nice break from it.”

“You know, Jase, the longer I spend single, the more I realize it isn’t so bad. I have my rituals… those would be tough to break if I had a live-in lover. All my routines are comforting to me now. Being single doesn’t feel strange anymore. When I was alone, in the beginning, the toughest part was going to bed by myself. That bed felt so cold and lonely… it took a long time to be okay with it. Now, I really can’t imagine sharing my bed… maybe that’s a bad thing?” I looked at him for an answer, as he held a steaming cup to his lips.

“I think you would adjust, Adrienne. I’m sure you would.”

We wandered around the marketplace, admiring the fruits and vegetables stacked artistically, so brilliant in their fall colors. We passed the orchids and lilies perfuming the air. The crush of people kept us moving along; two friends who have lived together and never ever crossed the line into romance. He walked me to my car. I turned to him and reached up with an embrace, to say goodbye until next time.

At a red light, I texted him: you smell good

He texted back: next time get a little closer

 

Copyright 2011 Adrienne S Moody. Read more of Adrienne’s exploits online dating, click her tag.

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