42 \ Autumn.

November 2014
Some dates are pretty uneventful. Actually, quite a few. That can be the territory with online dating, especially when you are open to anything, as I was at the time. A few exchanged notes, and really, it’s best to meet as soon as possible to see if there’s any there there. Chatting online, or texting, or on the phone can build chemistry and be a very good indicator, but if there’s no chemistry in person, it’s all for naught.

We met one afternoon for a beer. About 45 minutes. I wasn’t attracted to her. There was something slightly shifty about her as well. And very little to talk about.

The energy you put in is still significant. And despite having low expectations you still want it to be fun and learn something so there is still a feeling of let down after a fizzled out date.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained? That’s what I would keep telling myself, for quite some time.


23 \ Girl Next To Next Door.

April 2014
Met 23 on OKCupid. She seemed funny and quick. She worked in technology. We had several chats and we soon met for a lunch.

She was not exactly my type but there was something I liked about her. Down to earth. Not pretty, but attractive. In a very housewifey sort of way.

We didn’t really connect, and were soon on our own separate ways.

20 \ Deep Purple.

March 2014
I met 20 via OKCupid. She was young, cute, smart. Had her own business, and seemed to have her stuff together. Some chats, and we were soon meeting for an early evening drink.

It was a rainy Spring day, and she came in. Cute. She was a stylist, and sounded like she worked hard and was successful. She was newly divorced, and had a son. We had a good chatty first date, and soon set up another.

It was during SXSW, and I met her far from the madness of downtown, where she was with friends. We had a drink, and I met some of her people. Very sweet, and I could tell they were protective of her. We soon made our way to get some dinner.

We chatted. She was very quiet, introverted. She had had a different marriage arrangement – I believe he was Jehovah’s Witness or something similar. She mentioned health problems. And special needs. She seemed somewhat sheltered. 

We carried on for a walk and then sat on a bench and kissed. Sweet and lovely. There was a look in her eyes that was unforgettable. Innocent. Vulnerable. Unknowing. Yet yearning. 

We haven’t seen each other since. There was a bit too much going on there for me to take on. Very sweet, and I hope she is doing well.

18 \ Patients.

February 2014
Leading up to the divorce we started to see a therapist – a life coach. After the split, I continued to see her for about a year. We talked, maybe twice a month, and it served its purpose, as therapy does. She asked about my ideal woman, several times, and helped to visualize that person. At some point she suggested that I meet one of her friends – for a date. I was nothing but optimistic – she knew me, and my tastes, and has someone that matches them – what could possibly go wrong?

18 and I arranged to meet for lunch. A blustery late winter afternoon, I waited outside for her. She walked up, and we greeted each other, and went in. Lunches ordered, we sat and began to chat.

I had described my physical type several times – the woman across from me matched none of it. I wondered what my therapist was thinking. I asked how she knew her. She said she saw her at least once a week. She was a patient. I don’t know if my mouth visibly fell open or not. Unethical to match make your patients? Seems at least a bit dodgy.

18 was very nice but not my type. We had our lunch, a chat, and went our separate ways. Same went for the therapist soon after.

37 \ Super Trouper.

September 2014
I met 37 via Match.com. As mentioned previously, not really a happy hunting ground over there for me. 37 only had a few pictures, we had a bit in common on paper, and she appeared to be attractive. We exchanged a few good messages, compared busy schedules, and found a time for lunch one Saturday afternoon.

We were the same age, and she had a natural beauty – fair, reddish blonde, lovely skin, tall and slender. She lived in Westlake, and spent her time fund raising and volunteering. Clearly she led a very different type of life from me and I couldn’t really determine what she liked to do for fun.

I talked music and she said the words you seldom want to hear – ‘Bob Schneider’. I have been on a few dates where, when asked musical preferences, the response would invariable be along the lines of ‘oh, everything’, which of course means nothing, and when pressed ‘Bob Schneider’ would be uttered. Nothing against our local hero, however for me, a bit of a non-starter when it comes to musical tastes.

We had little in common and after a pleasant enough lunch, we said goodbye with the spoken intention of meeting again, but we never did and we went our separate ways.

35 \ Get Out Much?

September 2014
I waited for a about a half hour, and then I sent a text. That’s when she realized she had got the day wrong. Not a problem, I said, it happens. I was on the chilly side of luke-warm on this one anyways. She was very apologetic, appropriately, and by the time she rang a little bit later, I had moved on to a show. I couldn’t, and didn’t really want to talk. I was a bit annoyed. It takes energy and effort to plan, arrive on time, and get your head into date mode. Bloody show up.

A few days later, she texted. Want to try again? Hmm, not really but sure. Nothing ventured. We arranged to meet. It was a week day happy hour, quite warm. She was pretty, really sweet, and really not much else. We had little in common beyond the small talk. She didn’t get out much, she professed. It showed, I thought.

This was one of two times that I made up a story to end a date. A friend was in town, it was her birthday, I need to go meet for dinner. I felt a little bad, as I got the impression that she had planned on a night out. But I was learning not to extend these dates beyond their time. It’s okay to say ‘no’ after saying ‘yes’. This was work, and not much fun. It would be better to call it. And so I did and away I went.

19 \ Celeb Crush.

February 2014
I met 19 via Tinder. We had a few Facebook friends in common, as Tinder will point out, one of whom was my ex. She seemed familiar, but know I hadn’t met her. And then I figured it out – it was her. Her professional reputation proceeded her, and I admired her work. I had a celeb crush. I was a little starstruck. So, I kind of know who she is, and she knows my ex. Was this too close? Would it be weird? Awkward? My curiosity got the best of me – I swiped right. A match.

We soon started exchanging messages. Are you who I think you are? Yes, small town. No, it’s not weird, when can you meet, she says. And off we went.

We met for a drink, and hit it off. She was attractive, smart, and quick, dressed casually in jeans and a sleeveless top. And I was soon beyond my celeb crush and relaxed and into her. Super funny, honest, and into me. We set up time for a next date. Unfortunately the next available time coincided with a show I had. (I keep my music stuff pretty close. I let friends know that I’m playing, but in no way do I use as leverage to entice women. Yeah, I’m probably the only guy that doesn’t. I’m not trying to impress by being in bands. For me it’s art and what I need to do. If people are into it, great. If not, that’s cool too. I’m happy either way. But I don’t need you to ‘come to my show’ and see me play.)  She was cool with it. It’ll be fun.

We met before heading to the venue for a queso and margarita. It was a warm and breezy spring evening. She walked up, wearing heels and the tightest dress that clearly said, game on. We chatted and laughed – conversation was easy and natural and we had a lot to talk about – and then we were off to the venue. I introduced her to bandmates and their wives, and other friends that were there. This was one of the first times that I had been on a date in ‘public’ with friends, particularly this group of friends whom I had also hung out with when I was married. Everyone was very cool of course, and curious about the new girl.

We hung out for a drink and it was soon time for me to play. A super short set, and then we wanted to move on. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and that’s when I saw 15. She was there with her new boyfriend. I went up and somewhat brazenly said hello, and introduced myself to the boyfriend. 15 was surprised to see me – they were there to see another friend play – and I took a bit of satisfaction from this. I was totally comfortable with how we had left things. I saw my date walking over and said my goodbyes and intercepted before she got to where we were – no reason to create another ‘moment’ – and we left.

We went to another bar nearby and grabbed a drink. A band was playing, and it was loud. I think we danced. But mostly talked (loudly) and checked out the scene, and each other. We both thought it a good idea to head to another place and we did. Dark, quiet, we sat and grabbed more drinks, by this point a bit tipsy. We made out. It was really good. Sparks flying, we made our way to her place.

By this time is was just past midnight, and the wind had picked up. We were in for some weather. Were we ever.

She showed me around her place. We drank a bit of wine, and then the storm hit. The rain was pounding, the wind was howling, and soon, so were we. Lightning lit up the room, flashes of white, she glowed and was lit up, dramatic punctuations of light and sound. It was passionate, and hot. We were two people, confident in their abilities, confident in what they want, on level terms, and enjoying each other and the moment.

At some point during that night, she asked me if I was still in love with my ex. I said that I wasn’t in love with her, but that I loved her, as she was the mother of my children, and I cared for her well being. Truthfully, at that time, one year after the separation, there were some lingering confused feelings of love. Now, as I write this, two and half years since that night, I know the answer would be a resounding, and truthful, no. I care about what happens to my ex, but I have way less feelings of responsibility towards her. She has a boyfriend and is happy, and so needs less of my care – less of me. I have no desire to be with her. I’m so ready for the next love of my life.

The storm was moving on, and the sun was rising, it was dawn. We didn’t sleep. I had to make a move to go to work. We reluctantly said our good-byes, and off I went. It was a long day, but I was buoyed and buzzing. We texted a bit that day – confirming that it was epic fun – we should see each other again.

We spoke not long after, and she said I was still in love with my ex. I protested that was not the case, but she held me to what I had said. Looking back, as I said before, there were some lingering feelings for the ex – but not for her as much as for what we used to have. The feelings that you go through as part of a divorce, or any break up, are akin to mourning – I was mourning the loss of something that I loved. A few days later, we did meet up. She was out with friends, as was I. She was not convinced that I wasn’t ready, and said as much, and we didn’t see each other again.

Later that year I sent her a letter. A lot of time had passed. I thought I would rather have this person in my life than not – friends would be awesome. She sent me a letter back. We texted a bit. She was traveling. We arranged to meet, the following month. By that time I had become involved with someone else, but that’s another story.