Once again I have had inspiration come to me in the form of an awesomely long heart-to-heart convo with Miss Foxy. She is so wise, and together we make a brain. Together, we also discuss many-a-man and many-a-trifling situation, as I have mentioned many-a-time before. The most recent revelation we’ve had is that we hate dating, and we also love dating. Who’s with us? Yes! Everyone hates dating! Everyone loves dating! It sucks! It’s so fun! It’s so terrible!
First dates are probably the most awkward thing in the entire world, and I challenge each and every one of you to find me something more awkward. Each person trying to figure out if the other likes them, while simultaneously trying to figure out if they even like the other person. Then comes the end of the date. What to do? Make plans asap? Is this creepy and too fast? Make vague statements of future calls and text messages? What if you’re not ready to leave yet? Does the other person want this as well? What if they never want to see you again? How does one know?! Here’s the answer: One doesn’t know. You just have to figure it out and go with the flow. This is why it is so awkward and fun and terrible. Getting past this first date awkwardness is obviously easier in some cases more than others, but I think we’ve all had at least one date where you were all like, ohmygahd, this is awkward but he is kind of cute soooo whatever. Or something along those lines. Right? Right.
Well what about after that first date? Doesn’t make things easier after you pass that first landmark. Now you’ve been on a couple dates, you actually think you like this person, they actually like you, things are hunky-dory and progressing fine. You learn secrets about each other and gradually are opening the door to letting this person in and baring your soul. But LORD you’ve done this 80 million times before and that last rejection was pretty difficult. I know ya’ll think Miss Sassy is all up on doing the rejecting (it’s true, I am) but trust me, this girl has had plenty of rejections and gets just as bruised as the rest of you chickens. It’s a blow to the ego, and when you share things with another person all that does is open the door to being hurt. And no one likes being hurt.
So why do we do it? Who knows. Momma Sassy says it’s something to do with our Lord and being drawn together like Adam and Eve and being fruitful and multiplying. Sounds good. I guess that’s part of it. The other part is that men are just so yummy, we can’t help ourselves. Seriously. How many times have you been dumped / rejected by some sweet talking man, got your heart and possibly your fist bruised (LOL/JK), and swore to all your BFFs that you’d never lay eyes on another man? Be honest. A lot. And what would you guesstimate is the average time it takes you to fine another something delicious to take you out? About 3 seconds. Because this one is different. Or at least better looking. After a couple cute dates and fun times hanging out with him, you find yourself just waiting for the bottom to drop out. Because it usually does. They get bored or they find some hotter piece of ass. It’s inevitable, we think.
But why do we wait for the end? Why do we always expect the worst? Why do we always go back for more when so many of these little dalliances end in heartache, pain, lower self-esteem, and a couple extra pounds? Lately I find myself expecting dudes to just work me over. I assume it’s all a game, and so I put up my guard. I’m on the lookout for a phony and a guy who’s read too many books on the art of the pick-up, and usually I find exactly that, hiding beneath the smooth talking and ridiculous over-complimenting (I mean really, telling me I have beautiful eyes 5 times is not increasing your chances of getting anything except my annoyance level higher). It’s tiring. It tells me nothing about you except that you’re lame and insecure with who you actually are. So when I do actually find a real man with a real personality under those muscles, I am pleasantly surprised but still skeptical. I don’t know what to do with it when I actually find what I might be looking for. A real man. And I dislike this about myself. I am too young to be so jaded and always expecting to be disappointed. If I end up 40 and still single (yikes), then I will have earned it. But not now.
So this is what I promise myself, and what you should promise yourself, here and now. I promise to be smart and to protect myself from the scum bags who just want to…you know. Harsh but true. I also promise to have an open mind and let in the nice ones. Because the nice ones do exist, and they should be given a chance – as they are being open enough to give me a chance. And lastly I promise to take risks. It is harder and harder to share life with people the more we all get hurt. Who’d have thought. But we don’t want to be a bunch of old maids with 9 cats, do we? No. We want to have fun. And in order to do this we must take risks. I have to open myself up to the possibility that someone, somewhere, who is not a pick-up artist, will be willing to take a risk on me. And I must be ready to take a risk with him. So bring it on. I am Miss Sassy Pants, after all.