The Dating Game

If I had to sum up my dating life in one statement, I would quote Hamilton 'Ham' Porter from the great movie, The Sandlot and say.....

"If you were thinking, you wouldn't have thought that."

So....warned you are.

Here is my latest adventure in dating.....myself....

On February 16, Trombone Shorty is coming to Austin.  I don't care if you know his music or not.  I adore him and his pack of musical genius..es....errrr...geniuii....bunch o' musical genius friends.  I want them to make mad musical love to my ears.

But....I don't have a date.  Which isn't a huge problem....thanks to the best guy I never dated *koff*...Warren...*koff*.  I have found myself to be a wonderful date.

If you are not familiar with me or my sordid dating history....let me take you back to 2008.  I met a guy named....Warren....and we both discovered that we both enjoyed a radio program entitled, 'This American Life' produced by Chicago Public Radio.  That year, the radio program did a live broadcast in select theatres to announce the coming of their new television program coming to Showtime.  Basically, it was a $20 a ticket infomercial.  Despite my frugalista tendencies....I felt....I had to go.  And Warren....was the first person on the planet that I knew personally...in Real Life...that wanted to go!  Well....almost in real life.  Warren and I had never met face to face.....don't ask me how I ran across him in the first place.  Neither he or I, could tell you.....reasons unknown....it seems we have both blocked this event in our history out.

So....I was super excited!  Ira Glass, TAL, and thee.  This date was going to be PERFECT.  Or was it?  I started to worry.  This is a blind date after all.  What if I couldn't find him?  What if it was distaste at first sight?  What if.....he was a serial killer who prayed on little nerd girls who love American Public Media Programming.  OMG.  What if he didn't understand my love of Ira Glass or my nerdly passion?  What if he just SAID he liked This American Life.  errrgh.

There is nothing worse that being super over the top excited about something....and having to drag a dud date around with you.  Or having your mellow harshed by a lukewarm semihostage privy to your nerdly passion.  It would never do.

I wonder if he was thinking the same thing....because we both backed out on each other at the last minute.  I went.  I don't think he ever did.  I had the best date with myself ever.....and from then on planned to date myself more and often.  Warren, the best date I never had, left for California the next week.  For the record, I was not the cause of that.

But from that experience, I discovered these things:

1) I can open my own car door.

2) I will make myself jealous.

3) I can hold my own hand.

4) My breath is good.

5) I probably wasn't going to be getting any, but if I did.....I would totally respect myself in the morning.

6) I stood a good chance of still liking myself in the morning no matter how the date went.

7) I know I am funny. So ....I would surely be an entertaining date.

8) I would wear a pretty perfume.....something with bergamot. Because I like that. Orrrr...maybe I should have worn a guy smell. I totally dig guys with colognes. I could totally dig myself. 

9) I would take myself for a walk on the beach. Because I am all beachy like that and suggesting to myself that I like long walks on the beach doesn't sound as cheesy, because I know that it is true and sincere.

10) I wouldn't whisper to myself in the movie.

So you see the beauty in this.  I would say this was a more successful period in my dating life and I find myself today with only one regret.  Warren and I started conversing again....5 years later.....and we get along like peas and carrots.  Odds are....had we gone on the date.....we might have actually gotten along....  which is much more than I can say for the chain of fools I dated A.W. (After Warren)  You win some, you lose some.

But again...the important lesson here was......don't ruin up something you are really looking forward to with something crazy....like....say a bad date.

I would like to say I retained that lesson for future reference.  But alas...alas...alas......

Fast forward 3 years later.....

Mumford and Sons came to Austin. I was out of my mind with excitement.  If you could have worn the grooves off of a CD like you could a record.....I would have done so....quickly.

I bought two tickets.  I did not have a date.  I just felt that I needed to take someone with me.  I hadn't been to Austin and I was kind of intimidated by a city I did not know.  I felt that I probably needed a chaperone or something.  I felt that when the time came for the concert, I would work something out....and I did.

I was dating a guy from Corpus Christi.....meaning.....we got to see each other once in a while.  Nervously.....I invited him.  I was worried....I was concerned.  I knew that I loved the music of Mumford and Sons.....nearly as much as I loved to breathe. I also knew.....that I was asking someone who thought....for his money......Lionel Richie.....was the shit.....if you cared about music much. You see the warning signs.  My fear of going it alone in a city that didn't know my name, trumped all sense and obvious potential horror dates to top all horror dates to follow.  And I cannot blame him.  I can only blame myself.

It started off with me having to drive.  Since he had to drive for a living....he didn't want to do it that night.  But....but....the point was you drive for me into a city of the unknown....thus protecting its inhabitants from my horrendous lack of parking skill!  He wasn't moved.

On the way to the concert....he insisted on stopping for something to drink.  Lots...and lots....and lots....of Orange Juice.  Before the concert started he had a couple beers....which is all fine and well....but....as a nurse....I am pretty certain that the what goes in must come out rule still applies.  Maybe you should go to the bathroom?  Nahhh....he could wait.  Until the second song of the set.....where he interrupted his impression of a serious full body security check and my impression of a person swatting at a swarm of bees.  He said....I will be right back.  Which meant he called me on my cell near the end of the concert to let me know he was waiting by the car because ....*suprise*....he was unable to navigate the sea of people between the bathroom and me.

This is what happens to you when you know better.  I cannot tell you how many levels of pissed off at myself I was.  And you can bet no panties were breached post concert attendance.

SOOOO....the morals of my two stories.....lead me back to Trombone Shorty.....and the concert that I want to attend.

Do I go it alone?  Do I skip the concert entirely? 

If I was thinking.......