One of my greatest dating stories comes to us thanks to The Harvard Persistence. A very particular, somewhat peculiar 40-something, he was eager to plan an unforgettable evening. What did he come up with? Dinner at an Italian restaurant in midtown followed by a movie in Times Square.
Here's the deal: If we do dinner on a first date, make it someplace weird or unique. And if we're going to do a movie, make it something interactive or different (think "Rocky Horror Picture Show" at midnight or a viewing in Brooklyn Bridge Park with Grimaldi's in hand). Something even more out there would be all the better, but I digress.
After we (rather he) set the details, he emailed me to inform me that texting to let him know I'm on my way would not be necessary as it annoys him and to only call him to let him know if I was going to be fifteen minutes or more late. With that, I knew I was in for quite a ride. I told this to The Suzz, and she was able to point out that I'd been given instructions... rules, if you will, because he's a middle school teacher. Of course he is, and come to find out I'm young enough to be one of his former students easily.
I showed up to Nizza right on time, no texting/no calling as I was told. I can follow instructions though I was tempted to text "1 block away!!" at one point. He tried to pull out my chair for me, which is just awkward on a good day with a good date, then he asked if he could check my coat. "My coat's fine on the back of the chair. No worries," I told him. We proceeded to have decent conversation, as I do so like to meet new people and learn new things. When the check arrived, before I even had the chance to get my wallet out, he said "Do you want me to pay half?" My thought was, "At LEAST half, buddy. You asked me out." But I just said something like "sure" probably with a very perplexed face.
As we left the restaurant I was tempted to feign an emergency but decided to go with it... after all I like movies and didn't have anywhere else to be.
"Which movie are we seeing?"
"I thought we could decide together?"
"Cool. What are the options?"
He pulled out a newspaper clipping. "Let me look."
Wait a second. This guy just pulled out the NYTimes movie listings. Who knew they even printed them there anymore?
"I can probably pull it up on my phone quickly," I said.
"No! I've got it. Plus I hate smartphones."
Wait another second. You live in NYC in 2011 and you hate smartphones? Ok, ok. I have a few friends who still don't do the smartphone thing, the Facebook thing, or the Twitter thing. Hell, I don't even get the Twitter phenomenon myself (though I have an account and my intern thinks The Almost Girlfriend needs one herself... thoughts on this??) But to hate smartphones when we're standing on the corner of 42nd & 9th like idiot tourists who don't even have it together enough to not have a newspaper clipping??
"How about Rango?"
"The kids' movie?" I heard it was cute, but for a date? For a first date?? Whatever I went with it. Add to the story, right?
"I'll get the movie. You get the concessions. Deal?"
Sure, fella. Whatever you say.
We got to our seats, and Harvard pulls out count 'em... not one, not two, but FIVE straws. Ya know, because one might break. Obviously. Then he said to me, "I know this might be silly, but I bought you a present." Taken aback and a bit uncomfortable, I braced for what in the world I could've mentioned to him that he remembered I liked or what piece of previous conversation could be turned into a gift. He pulled this out:
"Oh, how nice," I said completely unaware of what I was holding. He explained to me the significance of it, though I've forgotten completely since it had absolutely nothing to do with anything we'd talked about. Don't get me wrong - I like gifts. But strange little boxes on first dates are just... well, strange. When opened, this is what I found:
And don't think for a second I got rid of it. It's in a bowl of memorabilia that have weird explanations. This bowl lives on the bookshelf in my bedroom. While I'm the opposite of a pack-rat, I keep strange things like this to whip out for conversation pieces on a whim.
When Harvard asked me for a second date, I felt like I should say yes. He was a nice guy, and quite frankly didn't have a chance for this date what with the rules, the dinner, and the movie. I thought I'd plan the next one and see if he could pull that off. But the second date wasn't any better - he even wore his Harvard sweatshirt as a talking point to let me know yet again that he had a degree from there. As he pecked me goodnight, I knew it was the last time we'd hang out. Alas, he did not. He called the next day to set a third date, and I told him I just didn't think we were a good match, that he's a Type A planner, and I'm much more go-with-the-flow, see-what-happens girl. Also he had lied about his age, and the problem with having parents who birthed me as teenagers is that my window for the older guys is smaller than others since I think they need to be closer to my age than my dad's. Call me crazy.
"Can I still call you?"
"Well, I don't really see the point in that. I don't think we'll be going out again."
"Then can I email you?"
"I can't tell you NOT to email me, but I can't guarantee you'll get a response. I don't really see what that can serve except to lead you on."
"Ok. Well, then I'll email you soon."
Fine. Whatever. He won't.
Wrong. Two days later I got an email detailing a play-by-play of his week. I didn't respond. Another few days after that, I got an email telling me about his dad's birthday dinner. Still no response. And then a doozy came.
The first part talked about a Broadway show and the NYTimes, then he moved on to discussing his softball games. From there he went into what can only be described as the worst Penthouse Letter to ever be written. Keep in mind that we never had sex. We never kissed beyond a goodnight peck. In fact, he even asked me on our second date if he could place his hand on the small of my back... which was just awkward. Oddly too graphic (though not enticing in the least) to put here, I'll list the nuggets you should glean from the email:
- His blood was flowing from a softball game in the rain.
- He envisioned coming to my apartment after the game and grabbing me to kiss me when I opened the door.
- He planned to lead me to my bed and apparently proceed to provide pleasure to the both of us.
From here he said, "Anyway! So yesterday I had a great day. I took five students to a [conference]." Abrupt much? Then I got the details of the school outing. Of course I did not respond.
A month later after a handful of play-by-play emails that went unanswered, I got another "naughty" email. This one more graphic and somehow more laughable than the last. Bullets again to keep it under control, gentle readers:
- Another game resulted in "softball energy"
- He would come to my place and start kissing me until our tongues were "snaking around"... (I wish I were making this up)
- He would then press me up against him so I could feel the stiffness in his "sweatpants"... really, sir? Sweatpants? I don't care who you are, sweatpants are not sexy despite what The Fashionista thinks. Especially because I'm picturing this:
Maybe I'd feel differently if I went all Top Gun in my mind and pictured this:
Now I just want to watch that volleyball scene and listen to Kenny Loggins...
- He then would proceed to "place his hands on [my] shoulders with just enough pressure" that I understood where he wanted me to go.
- He continued on, but I won't sicken you with more... just take my word for it, it's something else.
He ended this email with "Sounds wonderful, huh? Email or text me if you want me to stop by." This time I responded. "I'm not looking for any semblance of a fuck buddy." Harvard, "Neither am I. I was just writing a little sexy scenario."
Three months later I still get a few emails and an occasional text letting me know what he's up to. It's become a bit of a game with my friends - The Suzz being the ringleader. So, to you, Harvard Persistence, thank you for hours of entertainment for me and my friends. We've pored over your inanity on road trips, park outings, and while imbibing margaritas. Please let them keep coming. But don't expect a response.
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