Dr Strangedate, Part 5: The Rejection Letter

As the winter dragged on and each date became more and more depressing, I started to lose faith with the whole OKCupid experience. I know that people say that you have to “kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince”, (well, princess in my case) but this was just nuts. Date after date of no connection, nothing in common. It’s then I realized a sad truth.

For all my dates, I was their frog.

I kept trying. I stayed true to my mission statement and said yes to everyone. I didn’t shy away from any date. But I was getting a little jaded, a little more cynical. Then I met a women who would change my mind completely. Well, for a little while anyway.

Renata was a single mom from MA. She was funny, quirky, very librarian girl looking with the chunky glasses, funky hairdo and a devilish smile. We talked for hours on messenger about all things geeky. I found myself really enjoying our chats. She suggested a date. At first, we were going to meet for dinner but the lack of a babysitter meant a change of plans to having wine at her place and watching a movie. Whoa, this woman knew me too well. Wine and a movie, cuddled up with a gorgeous woman? Hell yeah!

That night, there was freezing rain. The roads were a disaster and making it to her house was a bit of a challenge. But I finally made it and she greeted me at the door with an enthusiastic hug. We went into this sort of converted mud room which had been decked out like a man cave: huge tv, sound system and couches.

We sat on the couch and I quickly realized this wasn’t a date. She just saw me as a buddy. My first clue was when we sat on the couch and she sat as far away as was physically possible without careening off the end. Yeah, I was used to this feeling. No chemistry in person. Sighing, I accepted my fate, popped open the wine and she put on some awful movie about a Roman legion in England. It was terrible and we mocked it like we were on Mystery Science Theater 3000. It was fun, we laughed.

Then she did something really bizarre. Out of the blue, she played the “Oh, I’m so tired” card. Really? I’ve been on the recieving end of this tactic before when someone wanted out of a date. “Oh, I’m so tired. I just hit the wall. Can barely keep my eyes open” etc, etc. I thought it had already been well established that this wasn’t a date and we were just hanging, but aparently, even my mere presence was unwanted. I decided to cut my losses and go home. Having been rejected so many times, I wasn’t surprised just a little confused. Why bother with the whole “I’m so tired” nonsense? I thanked her for having me over and as I went to leave, she gave me another big hug.

“Honey, please be careful on the roads, it’s so icy.”

Honey? Now I was more confused. Did I miss something? Did this night go better than I had interpreted it to be? Maybe she really was tired. Testing the waters, I suggested that we get together again.

“Sure, how about this Sunday? I’m free all day and the folks can take the kid for the day!”

Wow, ok, I really had misread everything! We hugged again and I gave her a smooch on the cheek. She pulled back and gave me a stern look.

“No, no kissing on the first date.” She smiled. I really had gotten everything wrong.

“Now, make sure you text me when you get home so I know you made it. Bye sweetie!”

Sweetie?? And the whole icy ride home, she would text me with messages like “Be safe sweetie” and “can’t wait to see you again, honey”. I was in shock. How could I misread a situation so badly? Maybe because after all the bad dates, maybe I couldn’t tell that we had connected. Maybe I missed it entirely and allowed my cynicism to cloud my judgement.

I finally pulled into my driveway. Like a good boy, I did what I was told and messaged her I had made it safely back to North Hampton.

“Good night, sweetheart.” was her reply.

I came into my bedroom and clicked on my computer as I always do before going to bed, checking Facebook or perhaps going through some blogs before finally falling asleep. I noticed I had new mail. I clicked on my yahoo and there was a letter from Renata. Excited, I clicked on it. It was only later that I noticed the headline read “Sorry”.

Thank you for a nice evening last night.  It was great to finally meet you.  I have to tell you, I didn’t feel the same connection that I think you did.  I’m so sorry.  You are an amazing man: sweet, adorable, smart, funny, and creative.  I wish you the best of luck in your search, but I don’t think Sunday is a good idea.
Again, I’m so sorry,

So am I the only one who said “What the fuck?” when you read that? It was like a rejection letter for some job I didn’t know I was applying for.  I had already accepted that we had no connection. I had come to terms with the lack of chemistry. And Sunday? Sunday was her idea to begin with. What the hell was going on in her head? She initiated the whole second date idea. I let this stew for a day and then wrote back a concise, albeit a little bitchy, retort.

Wow, I have been thinking about this all day and I have to say I’m really disapointed. I thought at the very least, I had made a new friend. So what if there was no attraction, you can never have enough friends. Would love to have kept that friendship alive here. But friend’s don’t send out dismissive emails to each other. I would have expected a phone call, so we could at least salvage the friendship. I really enjoyed chatting with you and enjoyed your sense of humor. Even though it wasn’t a “date” last night, I was looking forward to getting to know a new friend. I’m deeply saddened that you didn’t take the opportunity to call and talk to me. I find dismissive little emails very childish. Adults talk to each other. Friends discuss things with each other. I’m truly sorry that you had no intention of even being a friend. I’m sorry I wasted your time this past week or so.

Yeah, maybe I was a little over the top in my response. I let 4 months of bad dates, disapointments and dashed hopes catch up to me. I wanted to really lash out but I think I showed a certain amount of restraint by not just calling her a c*** and leaving it at that. I almost wish I hadn’t opened that email when I got home. For a few hours, I could have believed that maybe this whole dating thing was worth it. It was going to work out.

I would have been fine believing that, even for a little while.