Strongly Worded

Semi Pseudo Date #500,228

So two of my exes were at a bar a few weeks ago and met a third guy. They confirmed that said guy is Jewish, straight, sweet, smart, and single, and proceeded to fix us up. His only known shortcoming: he hooks his Blackberry on to his belt. I consider this egregious but also easy to fix.

We had our first uneventful date (#500,227) some time ago. I had hoped we would fall in love instantly, because my last spate of JDating was so completely unsuccessful. And the date was fine. Mr. Blackberry was super polite and gentlemanly, but there wasn't anything special. If my two exes hadn't assured me that there is both humor and edge behind his polite facade, I don't think I would have pursued anything. But because of those assurances, I followed up, and Mr. Blackberry proposed a second get-together. He emailed and suggested that we go see Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, and when I read the message I slumped deep down in my chair and started pouting, because I hate that kind of movie and would only go if doing so would be an act of love and support that would later be reciprocated. Also his emails were riddled with emoticons.

Luckily he offered an alternative, and suggested I join him at a book reading/fundraiser. I was wary because it was sponsored by some Jewish professional schmoozy doctors-and-lawyers outfit, and I generally strive to avoid that scene, but whatever, it beats a stoner movie hands down. I envisioned we'd chat and then sit with a bunch of other young professionals, eat a mediocre kosher meal, listen to the speaker, and then go out for coffee or a drink or something.

But no. This was an incredibly noisy room packed to the gills with young Jewish lawyers and doctors, and the "dinner" originated from a buffet wedged in the back of the room. It was one of those things where you try to squeeze the food on your tiny plastic plate and hold it, along with your plastic cup of ginger ale, your coat, and the bag you schlepped from work. While doing this, you are also trying to chatter brightly and intelligently while a) not dropping food, drink, coat, or bag; b) ensuring teeth remain free of parsley and spinach; c) actually chewing and swallowing food; and d) enduring the pain caused by cooler-than-normal shoes worn in anticipation of a date-like encounter.

To add to this weirdness, Mr. B clearly knew many people at this event, and while he greeted me warmly when I arrived, there was no evidence that we were on a date or even affiliated in any way. We barely talked to each other, and in fact, others who joined our broader conversations kept introducing me to him. One girl asked where I worked, and when I mentioned VPS, she said, "Oh, Mr. B went to VPS." And I'm all: step off, chica. I know. The same girl offered to save seats (there were rows of chairs set up for the reading), and then she saved seats for herself and Mr. B, but not for me, so I ended up sitting by myself some distance away.

I was ravenous, my back/feet hurt, and I was simultaneously bored and exhausted by the small talk, but things still went downhill. The only two souls I knew in this place were grad school classmates, both on the annoying side, both married, one pregnant. The pregnant one proceeded to update me on the four classmates me know in common, all of whom are newly married and/or pregnant, and this is not information that makes a single girl feel good when she's on a semi pseudo date with a guy to whom she is repeatedly being introduced.

After the speaker wrapped up, Mr. Blackberry scanned the room and sighed and said he hated the awkward goodbye phase of such events, and I suggested we skip it and leave. But no, he told me: "I have a few more people I need to talk to." So he turned on his heel and went to make his rounds, and I stood there by myself like an idiot, and then continued my depressing conversation with my grad school peeps. Shortly thereafter, there was a general announcement that the Young Lawyers and Doctors were heading across the street to a bar. It was only 8:30 but there was nothing I wanted less than to continue meaningless and even louder conversations with even more strangers, so I hugged Mr. B and set off for home.

He followed up the next day with a neutral "thanks for coming out" - it's unclear what his desired outcome is, or what (if anything) will happen next.

Posted by Dori at 9:39 PM