First date: Cagney

Sunday night, Alejandro had a date with Cagney – and on the whole, I would say it went well. We met up for drinks at a bar in her neighborhood. It wasn’t too busy, it being a Sunday night, so we had an attentive waitress and almost an entire section to ourselves. After some good conversation, featuring only a few awkward pauses, I walked her back to her apartment and said the standard “I had a great time, I’d like to see you again” blah blah blah. Being the cad that I am, I of course went in for the smooch – but I got cheeked. CHEEKED! BAM! Well played, Cagney.

All told, we spent about two hours together, and on the whole I had a good time. However, Alejandro was not feeling any serious chemistry. She’s nice, she’s intelligent, she’s witty, and these are all important factors. Indeed, further items in the “pro” column include our shared love of Britney Spears and The Hills. Yet there are serious negatives as well, mainly that she’s not on the Christian/Catholic spectrum (which is important for Alejandro) and she’s a vegetarian. And anyone who has heard Alejandro extol the sublimity of bacon or the joys and travails of making pulled pork at home knows that vegetarianism, though not a deal-breaker, is at least a red flag.

I did, in the end, make it home in time for Mad Men, if barely. Did I cut the date a little short to make it home in town? Possibly. Not because it was crashing and burning, mind you, but because first dates are tricky. Chemistry isn’t always obvious on a first date – sometimes it is only there as a kernel. And in that situation, if the two spend too much time together, then it can erase some of the mystery and excitement of what might happen in a second date. Some relationships might be on fire from the get go, but others need to be stoked and encouraged a little more slowly. And a little more than an hour and a half in, I knew that this risk was real.

So then the question remains: will I in fact see Cagney again? I don’t know. I clearly indicated I would be interested in doing so while simultaneously mentioning that my schedule for the next two weeks would be crazy busy. And indeed, she seemed receptive to the idea of seeing me again, despite the blatant cheeking. So it’s a possibility.

But then again, this Thursday, I have a date with Lacey. That date is at one of Alejandro’s most favorite bars, which means there will be some major mojo in play. And moreover, I was definitely a little more interested in Lacey than in Cagney during our “intimate messaging” phases, so I am sanguine about the possibilities.

So cut to the chase kid

An urgent update
Alejandro has great news
Date tomorrow night

Yep, Cagney and I are going to a bar tomorrow night at 7:30. This has required some light shuffling of Alejandro's already busy plans for Sunday. Also, it unfortunately provides an incentive for the date to go sour - Mad Men is on at 10. Then again, they show an encore presentation at 11, so the date wouldn't need to bomb quickly.

The State of the Alejandro

Yes blog friends, I have been away. You might think it was because I was in Denver, celebrating the birthday of a dear friend (and esteemed reader of this blog). You might think it was because I'm still reeling from the bizarre, Eyes Wide Shut experience of meeting Midget Fonda. You might even think it had to do with the 7000+ students that I tutor (all of whom are taking the October SAT), or because I'm allegedly writing a dissertation/book/novel/collection of haikus. Or maybe it's because my Monopoly dream came true and I won second prize in a beauty contest - and collected ten dollars.

Well friends, in fact some of these things are true. I have been busy with what the ancient Greeks called "life." But, out of concern for your ability to waste time reading blogs while getting paid by "The Man," I have also been putting in intense labor to find NEW dates for Alejandro. Yes, I have been flogging OkCupid (which significantly raised my "kinkier/less kinky" rating) for new ladies with whom to have awkward/awesome dates.

And what has this flogging created, besides a touch of tennis elbow? Two leads. Yes, two. But I am sanguine about both of them, as one seems to share my goofy, lackadaisical attitude towards what the ancient Greeks called "life," and the other shares my taste in crappy television. Since I haven't met them yet, I don't have obvious nicknames for them...but since there are two, let's call the first one Cagney and the second one Lacey.

Cagney and I are already into the "let's go on a date" phase of online conversation, and it's just a matter of picking a neighborhood, a bar, and a time. The risk with her is I haven't actually seen a picture yet. I know, it means there's a reasonable possibility of murder or whatever, but I really liked her profile. And if she's not cute, she's probably still more attractive than the Penguin.

Lacey I have seen pictures of, and she's a cutie. In my most recent message with her, I dropped the "let's go out for drinks or dinner" bomb. Let's hope it explodes in a positive way.

So that's the state of the Alejandro, at least in its broad outlines. There are a few other feelers out there, plus some lingering things from the past, but at the moment all eyes are focused on Cagney and Lacey. Tyne Daly would be pleased.

Epic Okcupid Fail

You find a nice-looking guy on okcupid. You write and rewrite a coy message, give a compliment, and--in short--open the lines of communication. Although you can never "really" know what a guy is like from a silly on-line dating profile, you decide this guy has potential. You hit send.

Immediately, you note a little check next to his profile name. What does this check mean? You place your cursor over the check and it tells you that you have contacted this particular gent about a week ago, probably whilst drunk.

Epic fail.

Get. Hot.

In this blog post by okcupid, the writer explores the relationship between attractiveness and amount of messages received by admirers. Clearly, the more attractive users get more messages. I learned this in first grade. 2/3 of male messages go to the top 1/3 women. What I did find interesting is that women tend to rate men in the bottom 80%. I can tell you from personal experience, this is true. I'm always giving guys a 1 or 2 (out of 5) without even reading the profile (please note, the recipient of the "rating" does not learn of it, unless you rate him a 4 or above). I tend to do this mostly when I am drunk and angry or after a bad date. Regardless, I def. rate more men very lowly than high--or even in the middle. What's interesting is that even though women rate lower, we still message men that are lower on the "attractive spectrum." So, we think they are not good enough, yet we message them more than attractive men. Once again, I can say this is probably true for me as well. I tend to message guys in the average spectrum.

In short, what I learned from this article is that we're all fucked and I have to miraculously get more attractive (top 1/3) in order to get more traffic.

Those shoes are definitely bi-curious

This past week has featured some uncharted territory for Alejandro. In the wake of Houdini’s betrayal, I have gone on a binge of messaging nearly any woman on OkCupid in my local metro area, seeking anyone that might be more than 75% compatible with me. Most of them have ignored these overtures of love, but a few have responded. One of them in particular. Let’s call her Midget Fonda.

She replied to my initial message with some miscellaneous details about her dog, and then asked if I wanted to chat sometime. This was the first deviation from my usual patterns with the ladies of OkCupid; normally we exchange messages, then maybe emails, then meet in person, and finally never talk to each other again. But the day after my initial message, there we were, chatting in real time over the series of tubes.

Believe me when I tell you, dear readers, that her chat comments did not take long to get racy. You see, one of the questions that OkCupid asks is “Which is more important, cuddling or sex?” For users of this website, this question further associates these two ideas in the brain. Thus, for instance, our generally innocuous conversation about cuddling turned suddenly to her talking about sex. When you’re chatting online with a potential date whom you’ve never met, it’s a little awkward.

But, Alejandro is trying to broaden his horizons, so he was game. And the conversation might have gotten a little heated. We might have decided that Sunday evening, we would meet up for coffee. There was a strong hint that Midget Fonda would not be satisfied by coffee alone.

So the next evening, as Alejandro was at work making the world a better place, Midget Fonda started again with the online chatting. She had decided she was lonely, and really wanted Alejandro to come over to her apartment, THAT VERY NIGHT, and stay over. She wanted to be held, to cuddle, and so forth. Alejandro made it clear that (a) he does not bang on a first date (another question on OkCupid, by the by) and (b) he did not particularly feel comfortable agreeing to meet a woman whom he has never met after getting off work at midnight and then sleeping over with her. Lola can vouch for the fact that Alejandro took the sheer intensity of Midget Fonda’s interest as a possible sign that she was only luring me over so she could murder me. And Alejandro did not join OkCupid in order to get murdered.

So I talked her down, she pouted in a virtual fashion, and we agreed to meet the next morning over coffee instead. We met at one of those ubiquitous interchangeable coffee factories. Midget Fonda was certainly cute, with nice blonde hair, a beautiful smile, and a voice with the subtle intonations of the Bay Area. Also, she’s 4’10” (hence the nickname).

The actual date was, quite literally, anti-climactic. We spent an hour or so at coffee, took a little walk, sat on a bench, and then concluded there was nothing there. So, for those of you doing the math, in about fifteen hours, Midget Fonda went from reeeeeallly wanted Alejandro to come over, late at night, and agree to stay the night in the apartment of a total stranger to having no interest in even a little daytime smooch with yours truly.

And while, it’s true, we are not particularly compatible, I still could have gone for a good smooching. You see, Alejandro’s second deviation is that Midget Fonda is bisexual. Now, this is not a problem for me (you’ll understand why momentarily), it’s just different from the women I usually message on OkCupid. And, had Alejandro and Midget Fonda made out, then the ratio of women whom Alejandro has made out with who have had long term relationships with women (whether before or after their rendez-vous with Alejandro) and the women whom Alejandro has made out with who have not had long term relationships with women would be perfectly balanced. 50-50. Alas, it was not to be.

Fuck Buddies? We Say YES!

Fuck buddies can be a great source of company for the single gal/guy.

You find yourself in the situation of having someone that you like, but not enough to date. What do you do? Fuck 'em. That's what you do. You meet up, chat a bit, perhaps joke about your status as fuck buddies, and then get to it. No drama. No waiting by the phone. No wondering if he's your boyfriend, or if the second date will be as good as the first. You are there for one thing and one thing only: some action.

What's nice about your Fuck Buddy is that he is on-call. 8 am, horny? Call your Fuck Buddy. 3 pm, avoiding work? Call your Fuck Buddy. Fuck Buddy doesn't take up much of your time. You don't have to remember his birthday, or even his last name. Chances are, you won't fight. Want to try something kinky in bed? A fantasy? A toy? Fuck Buddy is there. He swoops in when you need him, and leaves when you're done.

But, be careful not to get attached. Do not become accustom to his particular brand of man-smell, or that charming laugh. Remember, in reality, your Fuck Buddy is merely a mirage in your desert of loneliness.

Make sure expectations are clear. Just as you don't want to grow attached, you don't want Fuck Buddy to suddenly start sending you roses.Keep the lines of communication open. Tell him what you want out of the relationship. Tell him what you want in bed. Don't act too eager. If Fuck Buddy calls you on Tuesday, go over. But if he calls again, on say, Thursday, make him wait a bit. Say you're not available until Saturday. The anticipation will drive him mad.

Remember to rotate your Fuck Buddies. Ideally, you want to keep at least 2 around, though this may be hard to do for the busy working gal.

Of course, any Fuck Buddy will never take you to a fancy dinner or bring you chicken soup when you're sick. Your Fuck Buddy will not snuggle you while watching D2: The Quack is Back on a Friday night. In short, he's a temporary solution. You know eventually you will grow bored of Fuck Buddy. And, that's okay...that's what he's there for.

Stuff White People Like

OkCupid has a blog that I love. It selects trends and analyzes them. Here's the latest:

Stuff Black People Like

Disappointing Guy of the Day

The 29 year old guy that doesn't know how to kiss...

Date Local

So, I can't really throw stones at Eyebrow Guy (see last post) as Friday night I had a stellar line of my own: "How old are you?" Yes, Lola in Ireland thought that this line was the perfect way to meet hot, young Dubliners.

Although this line didn't particularly "work," I did meet a young, Irish man that night. At the bar, he used some line about my American accent, and that was that...I was his for the night.

For about 1.5 to 2 hours we made out on the dance floor, chatting periodically. To be honest, it was rather filthy. I'm surprised we didn't get arrested for public indecency. Something I noted about Irish bars was the excess of PDA. People making out everywhere! Granted, there are clubs and pubs in American where this happens, but I tend not to frequent those establishments (maybe I should?). However, it does seem that most pubs in Dublin lend themselves to this type of, um, overt sexual behavior. Not a criticism. Merely, an observation.

Irish Bloke asks me on a date for the following night. I decline, as I will be going to a birthday party at a pub and--though I don't know it yet--I will be making out with Colin Farrell (see previous post). We decide to go to out on Monday.

And it is lovely. As it is my last day in Dublin, I pick what we do. In a surge of romanticism, I ask him to take me to the former jail, Kilmainham Gaol. Despite the fact we are touring a jail, somehow, Irish Bloke makes it a wee bit romantic. After the jail, we walk and talk in the rain, grab lunch, and scope out some professional photography. The conversation is easy. I am ridiculously happy. At the end of the day, he has not-so-sneakily steered me to St. Stephen's Park, where we make out like teenagers. Once again, I am concerned we will be arrested for public indecency. Irish Bloke reassures me that "it is just a park" and no one cares. I walk him to his car, and we say a sad forever farewell.

It was the best date I've been on in a long, long time. Clearly, it was enhanced by the fact that I was on vacation, leaving, and we didn't know each other long enough to piss each other off. All of this seems ideal. The sad part is that I actually liked him. But, as Alejandro and Slate point out: long distance romances are not good for the environment. Date local.

We write. It is still lovely.

Two Girls, One Line

As you know, I was recently in Dublin for a week staying with a friend--I shall refer to her as Dublin Friend.

Saturday night, we go to a pub/dance club. The night starts out slow, with some witty banter and Dublin Friend and me launching into a vigorous debate about the title of D2: The Might Ducks. At first, it appears like it will be a slow, uneventful evening. After many drinks and some dancing a nice looking gent calls my friend over (she's gorgeous btw). I force her to put her heels back on and stroll across the bar. I talk to his friend.

Dublin Friend went off with the dude and he used the following lines:

-You're gorgeous.

-You have the best eyebrows in the bar.

-You look like Marilynn Monroe.

-You look like Ingrid Bergmen.

-You're Jackie Kennedy.

-Let's get married.

Awesome lines, dude.

Later, they stroll over to me, arm around her shoulders and he pulls the EXACT SAME LINES on me--in rapid succession. Literally, I get all these lines tossed at me in one blow. I do, however, not receive the last line. Apparently, I am not marriage material; rather, I--like all American girls--look like past American sweethearts.

I don't mind him using the same lines on both Dublin Friend and myself. In fact, it is hilarious. However, I was slightly upset about the eyebrow line. I am very self-conscious about my eyebrows and to be told "they are the best in the bar" is delightful. And to learn that this line is just that, a line, took my eyebrows down a notch.

Dublin Friend makes out with Eyebrow Guy. He sings her "Man in the Mirror." I continue to chat up (and kiss) his decent looking friend. In order to indulge my own pathetic Irish fantasies, I will call him Colin Farrell. Note: He doesn't really look like C.F.

The excessive amount of alcohol clouds my judgement, and I contemplate actually going home with Colin Farrell. Bad idea, Drunk Lola. Bad idea. I decide not to, and later my friend tells me that Eyebrow Guy had told her that Colin has chlamydia. Another friend of Colin's also came up to Dublin Friend and tells her, "There's no way your friend isn't going home with my friend. But you should stop her, because he has chlamydia." That's not one, but two reports of chlamydia...

Question: Did Colin Farrell really have The Big C? Or, was this another line? Some sort of orchestrated line to either cock block (or save?) their friend...

I'm glad I didn't find out...

Utmost in your mind is success!

On OkCupid, I always check to see who has "visited" my profile. Keep in mind, visiting does not necessarily signal interest - sometimes people will look because they're curious, or because you've looked at them, or because OkCupid tells them to.

Most of my visitors are from the gigantic metro region in which I live. But recently, my reputation for awesomeness spread all the way to Bucharest, Romania. Now, on account of a recent Slate article on the environmental impact of long distance relationships, clearly I could never be serious about my little Ceaucescette.

Yet that's almost too bad, as her profile indicated she was looking for the following:

"Utmost in your mind is success!
...
You are receptive to anything new, modern or intriguing.
...
Your interests are many and you are likely to expand your fields of activities.
...
You are optimistic about the future and you deserve every success because deep down you are a 'winner'"

In fact, utmost in my mind IS success.