The Geneticist – Survived by Mike (Guest Post)

A note from Tara: Mike and I were neighbors in the apartment dorms at Humboldt. He’s single and gets how fucking hard shit is out there. So not only do Sarah and I have terrible luck, apparently dudes have it bad too.

WHO: The Geneticist (PhD Candidate)

WHAT: eHarmony

WHEN: Super Bowl Sunday 2015

WHERE: The Valley of the Dirt People (Riverside, Ca) – Tea Leaf and Coffee Bean

WHY: Because single

THE DATE
eHarmony is interesting. You go through a multiple choice test, Short Answer Questions, then a term paper final. I’m really glad I went to college for 8 years. I tend to not send out a lot of requests, since I remember the days when online dating started with A/S/L, and you always had that sneaking suspicion that the dudes asking were creepers, and the girls asking were actually dudes asking who were creepers. Damn you, AOL.

Anyways, I got a set of questions from a girl from my area. They were basic enough: Do you like fancy restaurants or holes in the wall? How would you spend a Saturday alone? Where would you travel if money weren’t a thing? I filled out my online scantron and fired my questions back. I was down with the responses. This girl seemed low key and pretty realistic. I partied hard in my 20s, so now, at 32, I’m pretty much over the wild life. She was cute, and I hoped she replied again.

We got past the short answer questions, and on to the term paper. She seemed pretty genuinely interested in me. She explained that she was a candidate for her PhD, and would have it finished up in about a year. Intelligence is sexy… and I have a thing for Genetics (Guns, Germs, and Steel is a great read if you have a chance to read it). I talked about being a teacher, since it’s one of those professions that ALWAYS provides great stories to tell, especially middle school. Again, things started off pretty low-key, but after past experiences with things moving crazy fast I’m more than happy with the slow pace.

Our messages got progressively longer. We talked about pets, since that’s a thing. It’s always a plus to find somebody who doesn’t immediately think I’m “that guy” for being a 32 year old man living with two orange cats.

She had a lot to say about a lot of topics. I was genuinely interested, so after about a week of chatting I asked if she’d like to meet up some afternoon. She agreed. I was excited.
Smart, motivated, cute. She seemed solid. She warned me in our last e-mail that she’s been told she has a “bitch face” so I shouldn’t get scared. My science teacher friend has that look perfected so I’m used to it. I tell her “It’s all good. Smiling gives you wrinkles.” She agreed. I filled my two teacher besties in on the whole thing. I’m not jaded, but I’m enthusiastic at the potential for this one.

The one area we differ is that she’s obviously not a sports girl. We set the date for the afternoon of Super Bowl Sunday, right around kickoff. I’m supposed to go to a Super Bowl Party, but I don’t mind being late for a good reason.

Around the time the Patriots put that first deflated ball in play, I parked in Riverside. I don’t know the area well since I just moved out this way, but it seems like a nice enough spot. I’m a little early, so I go order an iced black tea. I’d do coffee, but my mom told me when I was like 5 that it would stunt my growth, so I stayed away from it. It was a nice day, so I snagged a table out front and waited.

I check the time, and it’s a few minutes past when we were supposed to meet. All good. I see who I think might be the Geneticist.She’s wearing a leather jacket and looks relatively pissed off. She walks straight past me and disappears into the shop. Maybe it wasn’t her? Maybe it was, and my damned cat rolled around on my freshly washed black jacket to make sure people knew I was “that guy” so she bailed? No sense in stressing. I check the score, still 0-0.

The girl I saw earlier walks back out, scans the room, then walks with intent towards me.

Her: “Mike?”
Me: “Hey. Nice to meet you. Can I get you something to drink?”
Her: “Sure”

She orders a coffee and doctors it to her liking. I can’t tell you what all she put in, since I didn’t think she wanted me looking over her shoulder. We go back to our table and start the whole “getting to know you” thing again.

She was a wonderful writer. She elaborated well in our messages and had a ton to say. I’ll admit, the “bitch face” would put my science teacher friend to shame. I’m a little intimidated as she sits looking seemingly angry and takes a sip of her drink.

Me: “So how has your morning been? Did you have a good time with your roomies?” She told me previously that they were going to have a breakfast celebration for her friend’s recent promotion, so it felt like a safe place to start.
Her: “Yeah, it was nice”

Silence.

Me: “This is a nice area. I haven’t been down here before. Good choice!”
Her: “It’s pretty good.”

Silence.

Small talk ensued… sort of. I questioned, she responded bluntly, then went back to her drink. She had mentioned being kind of shy at first, so I get it. I’d been like that for a while, so I figured as we talked she’d start to open up a bit more and talk more freely.

Wrong.

It was about thirty minutes of this awkward me ask, you respond, then silence while I think of how I can turn a 2-3 word answer into a topic of conversation. Hell, I can get 12-14 year olds who NEVER talk to argue whether or not Christopher Columbus, Hernan Cortes, and Francisco Pizzaro committed Genocide in the Americas during the 16th century, as is defined according to the 1948 U.N. Definition of Genocide. So surely I can convince a 27 year old PhD student to have a friendly conversation over coffee after a week and a half of getting to know each other on the internet!

Wrong again.

The awkward question and answer continued. She told me about her roomie’s cat (seriously… I think I might be that guy), and how her friend gets jealous when the cat gives the Geneticist all the attention. I talked a little bit about my job since goofy stuff 7th graders do and say is usually pure entertainment.

I got a few polite laughs…but seriously…this girl will NOT get any wrinkles from smiling.

Ask me how and I’ll never be able to recall, but SOMEHOW the topic of almond butter came up. I don’t eat almond butter nor have I ever bought it, thus I don’t see how it worked its way into this date. But it did.

Her: “I mean, come on….It just tastes like a shitload of almonds!”

It was nice to see some emotion come out! I’m cool with the casual swearing and am a big fan of using such words for emphasis and/or whatever really. I thought I might be getting somewhere. Once that dam of emotion springs a leak, the whole damned thing is bound to come down!

Not so much. Apparently almond butter is just swear-worthy.

I haven’t checked my phone because that’s not something a dude should do on a date. This is awkward, but I’m still putting my best foot forward.

Her: “So how do you like your iPhone? Want me to show you some tricks with it?”

I had just gotten an iPhone 6 after reluctantly giving up my Galaxy S3. My iPhone has been nothing but a pain in the ass, but that’s a story not for this blog (though my relationship with this phone is particularly abusive and frustrating. I blame iTunes for being awful. I digress…).

She shows me how to quickly type in “.com” by holding the “.” down for a second. She tells me it has a flashlight app, and that it can….oh my GOD the most mutually engaging part of this date is this girl showing me how to use a phone. I’m an old man.

I catch the time as I put my phone away. Almost half-time. We sit in silence for about thirty seconds since I’m officially out of ideas of what the hell to ask this girl that might elicit an actual response. Cookie butter? That was a thing for a while, right?

Suddenly she stands up abruptly.

Her: “I’m going to go to the restroom, then have to get home for the half-time show. I don’t like football but I want to see what they do. It was nice meeting you. Don’t wait for me. Thanks for the drink.”

Exit stage left before I can really say anything.

I got to my party in time to see Katy Perry hanging out with the shark from Back to the Future II and how much weight Missy Elliot has managed to drop (you go, girl). I’m really glad I didn’t miss this.

When people asked how the date went, all I could really say was, “It was odd.”

The short abrupt phrases rubbed off on me. Crap!!!