38. – 39. Senior Superlatives, Part 2

barrels-340004_1920I wrote the first installment of Senior Superlatives a few months back, and as I grope around the bottom of the barrel of matches (Bernard Malamud reference? Check.) to wrap up my first venture into the world of blogging, I’m coming up with the equivalent of one-liners. Neither of these guys deserves his own post, so I’m lumping them together for some more dubious honors.

Most Likely to Make Me Question the Existence of My “Type”
38. The Doppelganger
New to the area with limited time available for dating, he was a workaholic with a cool backstory and an interesting business plan. He proposed that we play a game on our coffee date: we would take turns asking each other questions that we must answer, but we weren’t allowed to turn a question around on the asker. It led to some interesting conversation, but all of it was overshadowed by the knowledge that he was a slightly more attractive version of The Comedian. To make matters weirder, we met at a location of the same local chain of fancy coffee shops where The Comedian had worked as a bartender. When we met outside, I had the irrational, gut-clenching fear that we were going to walk in only to find that The Comedian had transferred locations and I would bump into him while on a date with his twin. One of the things I wanted to figure out about myself over the course of the year was whether or not I had a type. As a general rule, I don’t, but this particular match had me wondering whether tall-ish white guys with dark brown hair were what I secretly longed for.

Least Prepared to Be Dating Anyone At All
39. The Hot Mess
If you couldn’t tell from his alias, this match was a comedy of errors from the get-go. He pretty much stood me up on what would have been our first date, blaming his absence on getting unwittingly sucked into a family intervention for a young wayward cousin. He eventually showed up after I ate dinner alone at a bar, but I was pretty disenchanted by that point. Later, he begged to make it up to me, to sweep me off my feet. At the time, being pampered sounded pretty nice, and I felt he owed me, and I consented to a “second” date. So when he texted me to ask what I wanted to do, I recognized that this man had no idea what it meant to sweep someone off their feet. For starters, you don’t ask them to do the planning for you. I quit answering his texts and was surprised when I did hear from him several months later. He claimed to have gotten his personal and professional life together and wanted another chance if I were willing to let him try. I only thought about it for a moment before letting him down gently.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s