Grab some coffee or tea or your favorite beverage and settle in. Storytime.
Before I get to the pleasant part of this story, which involves Bachelor #11 (now known hereafter as The Hard Salami because he is more savory than spicy, somewhat set in his ways on the surface, but malleable inside once he opens up, and complements almost any vegetable), three very strong and unusual drinks, a lot of honest conversation and laughter, and a general positive meeting of the minds, let me thrill you with the continuing saga of the jalapeno, who texted me last night while I was preparing to leave for my date with the Hard Salami.
Part One: The Lingering Jalapeno
Let me preface this by saying that the jalapeno is either seriously mentally imbalanced (as in, needing medication off-balance), a cold, lying bastard who pretended to be otherwise just so he could bed me, or is so hurt by my rejection that he is lashing out in any way he can muster. The first text at 6pm merely asked when I would be able to return the movie he left here. I apologized for forgetting about it this week, said I would try to drop it off in his door today (Sunday), but after the proceeding texts came in, I’m mailing the sucker because I don’t want to go anywhere near his place.
At 6:31, my phone buzzed. I thought it was the Hard Salami. Wrong. Jalapeno again. But this time, he wanted something else:
6:31pm: “Have to tell you, [Educated Crouton], that I have never met anybody like you and I always going to like you no matter what.”
6:35pm: “I don’t want other women. I’m going to go back just to date. If not you, I don’t want nobody else.”
I was on the road, so ignored it. Besides, what the hell do you say to that?!
6:59pm: “I just wish to make love to you one more time before we said goodbye, that’s all.”
I was watching my GPS and driving in traffic, so this got ignored as well. I already said goodbye. Sans sex.
7:10PM: “We are 2 adults and that’s the last thing I want from you so I can live in peace, make love to you one more time babe.”
I was looking for the parking garage and driving around the block, so was just annoyed at this line of texting, so adamantly ignored it. Besides, what a selfish bastard – what about what I want? And I clearly don’t want him – hence me breaking it off. Duh. What part of NO doesn’t sound like NO, genius?
7:19pm: “At least think about it. Please, I need to have that last night with you babe, please”
I didn’t even get this one until 3am when I got home and was changing into my pajamas, but that’s not the only text awaiting me.
11:29pm: “[Educated Crouton] I like you a lot and I love this country too, but what a joke of an american you are. Phd and no character wao (his version of wow)”
I actually laughed right out loud when I read that and contemplated just going to sleep. But I couldn’t resist.
3:01am (Me to jalapeno): “The answer is no. How sad that you think I have no character because I won’t have sex with you after we stopped seeing each other.”
And really, of all the ways I could have reacted, this is the mildest and most diplomatic. He does know where I live, after all.
I went to sleep and woke at 9:30 this morning to find six text messages. Oh please, oh please, let them not be from jalapeno, I thought, touching my touch screen. Whew. Only three were from him. The other three were from the Hard Salami. And actually, both were just long messages divided into three easily deliverable chunks by the cell service provider. I had texted Bachelor #11 when I got home to tell him I made it, had a great time, and sweet dreams.
So to balance the obnoxious jalapeno texts, I got this message from my date last night:
“Yes, I’m home safe and sound, all tucked in. I 2 enjoyed being w/u. The miles be damned, I want 2 do it again! Ur smell is strong on the backs of my hands and is intoxicating 2 me. Very sweet scent u wear. Had a wonderful time. Thanks 4 granting me special “cute” dispensation 2 call u [shortened version of Educated Crouton]. I will only use it 4 special things…a respect thing u might call it. Look at me, I’m texting here! (He said doesn’t text. Heehee.) Have a great night lovely lady.”
Happy sigh. Enjoying the moment.
……..
Moment over. Back to the jalapeno.
7:19am: “lol what a joke, so many degrees sweetie i don’t want to have sex with you, i knew thist was coming that y i never stop dating in [online dating service]. what u think i will trust some one that have me as a rebound date? U were replaced before u make the decision I dit not trust you. rebound date thats a huge red flag for dating just for future reference lol”
At 9:22am, I sent the following response: “Thank you for confirming what I suspected about your character. Please do not contact me again.”
And hopefully, that is finally the end of the jalapeno. Let’s hope.
…..
As I was writing this post, my phone buzzed. Thinking it was the Hard Salami wishing me good morning, I happily touched the screen. Sigh.
Jalapeno again. As chipper as ever. And clearly determined to have the last word.
10:27am: “jajaja yes u know me what a joke u are im nobodys rebount now you know good bie” (Btw, this is a direct transcription – I usually cleaned up his texts for the sake of reader friendliness and clarity on here, but this is the level of English skill I was dealing with…remember what I said about me now fully embracing my writing snobbishness because of what language skills portend? Yeah.)
I have no idea what prompted him to ask me for post-dating sex, or what caused him to then deny it, backpedal and say the rest of those things, but it all just confirms that I made the right choice by ending it and not trusting the situation. And the little man can have the last text word because I’ve moved on, and quite happily so. (However, part of me wants to warn other single 40-something women in my area about this guy…not sure how to safely do that. But I wish my sisters the best of luck in dealing with this spoiled vegetable.)
I also hope that I don’t now have a stalker on my hands. I will be vigilant and on alert for a couple of weeks. Don’t think I’ll tell my already-worried mother about this little texting episode.
Part Two: Bachelor #11, or The Hard Salami proves his mettle
As I was parking my car, the Hard Salami called me and when I told him where I parked, he said he’d walk up and meet me in front of the garage (he had parked in the same one). We met on the very cold and windy sidewalk, did a sort of handshake, half hug greeting where he kissed me lightly on one cheek. Smiles all around. We walked to the restaurant and stood packed in like pad thai noodles in the tiny entranceway of the highly rated and popular Thai restaurant, waiting for the host to call one set of us reserved noodles to a table. I wormed my way to the front-ish area of the packed space and when the guy came back, I said, “Reservation” and my last name, since I’m the one who planned the evening (per salami’s request – he drove 1 1/2 hours to meet me, was unfamiliar with my small city, and wanted me to be comfortable with whatever we were going to do, which I thought was just fine even though I prefer to see how imaginative the gentlemen can be in setting that first date precedent).
I got the pad thai (I always like trying that dish in new Thai places because I love it and like to experience variations and know it’s safe); he got the wild boar. (Which was delicious, I tried a piece. And can I just say that I was super impressed by the unflinching adventurousness of his palate? But he’s had boar before. I’ve never had boar. But as this was a first date, I didn’t want to chance any digestive fireworks, so my adventurous palate took a backseat to practicality.)
Our conversation ranged from language and rhetoric to industrial waste management (our disparate work), from abortion and politics to Columbus and religion, from unions and work ethic to shark fishing and pets and nicknames. We joked about whether we would be having a fight because I am liberal and he is moderate/leaning right. But we both treated all subjects with a light and respectful hand, conceding points and understanding each other’s different perspectives.
By the end of dinner, he still hadn’t indicated that he wanted an exclusivity commitment from me by the end of the night, which I counted as a success. But before we left the restaurant, he did ask me what jalapeno and I had fought about (all I had told salami was that the guy I was giving a chance to picked a fight with me when I was sick, which was the wrong thing to do, and that’s why I had resumed communication with salami). I said I needed a drink and would tell him once we got to the jazz club (the Thai place was BYO, which we didn’t).
We left the restaurant in search of a cash machine because he only had credit cards and the garage where we both parked was a cash-only operation. He asked to hold my hand as we walked, to which I agreed. We found a machine in the business center of a nearby hotel, then walked hand in hand continuing our varied and interesting conversation back to parking garage.
We decided to drive to the jazz club in one vehicle – salami left it up to me, so I drove and he held the gps and navigated. It was really funny because we couldn’t find it. The place is a speakeasy-style establishment, so has no outward indication that it is a bar. We had to park and did locate it on foot, well-hidden sucker that it was. But we arrived to discover that we should have made a reservation (my bad) because they were full, so I left my name and cell number and we took the suggestion of the hostess to walk three blocks to a cool little martini bar to kill time until a table opened up.
This martini bar featured the first of three very strong drinks that I enjoyed last night – a S’mores martini with a rim of Fluffernutter and graham/chocolate bits. Dessert in a glass!! Salami got an imported beer. Conversation continued and we sat side by side at the bar with arms touching. The flirtatious aspect of dating emerged a bit more, but not into overkill territory. Just enough to indicate that we are both attracted to each other. At one point, he gently moved a piece of my hair as I leaned in to take a sip of my sticky, sweet drink, chuckling as he said this drink is going to get into my hair.
When my phone rang with an unknown number, I had a momentary flash of panic that it might be jalapeno calling to harass me, but it was just the speakeasy club hostess letting me know they had a table for two.
Let me just say that if you have a speakeasy style club in your town, TRY it! It was so much fun. Like stepping back in time. And the atmosphere was extremely conducive to conversation and romantic connection. Some couples were up dancing softly between the tables, many groups of friends were having philosophical conversations and laughter, and we continued our honest exploration of each other’s minds and expectations.
I told salami that jalapeno wanted to commit to exclusivity after the first date, something that I was exceedingly uncomfortable with and that he wouldn’t back down, so that led to many overly serious conversations that were inappropriate so early on in the dating phase. This also gave me the opportunity to honestly lay out my need for dating time before committing. And instead of balking, protesting, or otherwise finding fault, salami just nodded and agreed with me that committing too early without time to get to know each other doesn’t make any sense.
!!!
Ohmygoodness. A man who agrees with me on this point? Not only that, during this phase of the evening, we covered a lot of serious expectation territory about what we’re both looking for, etc. Although we certainly disagree on some surface issues (as evidenced by our restaurant conversation), we do have a similar mindset about some things that I consider to be of more importance. Namely neither of us wants to get married again. He says definitely not, I said the jury was still out, but I told him exactly what I’ve expressed on here – that marriage is a box and I don’t want to be put in a box, but that ideally being deeply in love makes it more liberating than boxing, but I haven’t yet met a man who has made me WANT to get married again, which is why I haven’t decided yet. He said that made sense.
Neither of us has children. And neither of us wants children. This is a big issue. So nice to find someone with whom I match on this second non-negotiable point. And he is the first man I’ve dated where we are in complete agreement on this.
Neither of us is religious. We didn’t really get into religion or spirituality, other than to indicate that both of us were raised in Christian religions, but neither of us is religious. And that’s good enough for me.
Both of us values “alone time,” but hope to find someone to share life’s adventures; I don’t want to be controlled, he has no interest in controlling anyone; he is fairly set in his ways, but is willing to try new things and get outside his comfortable life groove with the right partner, I’m seeking adventure, but am willing to settle into a comfortable groove with someone who can meet me halfway.
Both of us seem to know who we are and are comfortable with our personalities and expectations and are fairly unwilling to bend to conform or change for someone else. We both want to find someone who can accept us just as we are. This is always easy in theory, but harder to accomplish in reality. A good desire, nonetheless, and a point on which it is pleasant to agree up front.
Bottom line, the Hard Salami was a perfect gentleman, paid for everything (and it was quite the pricey evening), held my hand more as the evening progressed, was honest and forthcoming about what he wants, was receptive to my ideas about dating over time before any serious decisions occur, and asked if he could kiss me goodnight before doing so (and yes, he’s a good kisser). The kissing itself was appropriate – just enough passion to indicate (again) a mutual attraction, but nothing so insistent that I fear being sexually pressed the next time we’re together. In the looks department, he’s pretty average and fairly cute, but his personality, humor, honesty and intelligence make him even more attractive to me.
All in all, a very successful first date and I have no negative feelings or red flags this morning as I relive the evening for your benefit. And I don’t think it’s because I missed something or wanted it to work too badly. I think it’s because we both seemed to be bluntly honest and that honesty was consistently met with agreement instead of resistance on both sides. That’s just so refreshing.
He knows it is his turn to plan something and I very much look forward to seeing what that will be.
🙂 I’m a happy crouton this morning.
Salad Bar Dating 