Dating Tales

A couple of years ago I dated a guy that I met on Elite Mate. It was a fun relationship. We laughed a lot, kept it light hearted, and managed to spend a lot of time together after a pretty short period of time.

About a month in I planned a trip away to visit friends over my birthday. I told him all about it even mentioning that I was turning 26 several different times that same weekend. Well, the time came for him to call and wish me a happy birthday and my phone didn’t ring. I even called him expecting a “happy birthday,” but I only got his voicemail.

He completely, 100% forgot my birthday. I was bummed.

Now I know there are many people that just wouldn’t care. It’s only a birthday and we were only dating for a couple of months. But like I said, I was bummed.

A few days after I returned from my trip he did call and I let it go to voicemail. I was still too disappointed. His message said that he hoped I had a good birthday and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I couldn’t let it go. I couldn’t see him again.

I “broke up” with him (if you can even call it that) over the phone that same week. He tried to talk me out of it, but I just knew I wouldn’t forget that he was the forgetful one.

What would you do?

You might remember reading about my friend Alex and her tattoo mishap in a post I wrote last fall. Well, she is still undergoing her tattoo laser removal by Denver’s Ink-B-Gone and has lived to happily tell the story.

Before any laser removal treatments

After session number five

She says the treatments have been totally worth it. In fact, with such obvious results she recommends laser removal to anyone that asks. The staff at Ink B Gone have been nothing but helpful and her boyfriend is happy with it too. At first he wasn’t so sure, but now he’s on board. But then again, what choice does he have!

A close friend of mine has more courage than most women in their 20s. Not only did she eagerly take on a move to New York City and a challenging career, she can in the midst of complete disarray notice a hot doctor when she sees one.

Kayla was suffering from a serious flu. She couldn’t hold anything down and having gone two days without fluids or sleep she starting seeing stars. This is when two of her friends took her to the emergency room. She was instantly pumped full of fluids by the nurses and inspected by the doctor. The gorgeous, young doctor.

At first sight of the doctor Kayla cheered up attempting to look and feel better than she really did. But despite her efforts her lab work still showed signs of troubled kidneys and that required a physical exam.

After another couple of hours of tests, pokes, prods, and one more IV, Kayla was allowed to go home, but not before the doctor handed an information sheet with hospital address and home number. Through her foggy vision, she saw a love connection.

Was he extra gentle with the stethoscope? Did he take a second too long to brush the hair away from her neck when he looked in her ears? The way he smiled when she said she felt fine–did that glance last a second too long too? When he patted her back while she puked into a bucket, was that normal patient care?

Leaving the emergency room that afternoon, Kayla tucked the information sheet neatly in her purse because she knew she’d be needing that information soon. Not for her flu, but for her heart.

Twenty-four hours later Kayla found pen and paper and wrote:

Dear Hot Doctor,

Thank you for your attentive care this last Sunday in the ER. After a full 24-hours I feel much better and have you to thank. I do not mean to make an inappropriate step here, but I’m writing to give you my phone number. I felt a spark when you took my temperature, and it wasn’t my fever.

I hope to hear from you soon. 567-5309.

-Kayla

***********

Believe it or not, he called. But only to say that she wasn’t out of line and that he was married.  No love connection for Kayla, but major good karma points for taking the risk and trying to date her doctor.

Anyone who knows me well can attest to my non-violent nature. Last night that non-violent side of me disappeared after three glasses of wine and 1 1/2 hours of watching the movie Superbad.

And that something is misdirected violence.

While sitting on the couch I practiced balancing a tennis ball on my head with arms spread wide. This is not an easy task and one that I admit to be quite good at. Apparently watching me do this for 20 or so minutes was somewhat annoying to the boyfriend. To get that point across he took the ball from me and then threw it in my general direction.

The ball landed on the couch, which I was now standing in front of. In pure football tackle form (or at least what I would call tackle form) he started to race toward me. To keep him from grabbing the tennis ball and to keep him from tackling me, I put my hands out to stop him at his shoulders.

Instead I stopped him at his face.

With a fingernail I managed to slice the side of his forehead, even drawing blood. He claims I attacked him, but I claim bad aim and self defense. Though this morning upon seeing the swollen red bump on his face, I do feel a little bit like an abuser.

I blame Superbad. That movie’ll make anybody a little crazy. I don’t recommend it. For your boyfriend’s sake, don’t watch it.

Commuting every day on mass transportation can give the mind a lot of time wander. When I lived in Boston I had a one-hour commute each way, and since I arrived and departed at exactly the same time each day, there were several men I got to see routinely. Cute men, I might add.

I called these men my “T boyfriends.” Without sounding too stalker-esque I knew their cologne, what books they were reading, and what stops they got on and off at. I never intended to speak to any of my T boyfriends (there were several), I was just greatful to have interesting commutes.

Not everyone is as shy as I am, though. I do have friends that overcame the silence among subway passengers that serves as barrier to any sort of relationship building.

One friend of mine saw a cute guy on the subway every day for weeks. Finally, she was sitting next to him and decided to pull the plug from her iPOD and offer to plug it into his. He agreed and few songs later they became friends.

Another friend–after losing her balance while hanging on to the bar–fell against one cutie who then got off at her stop and coincidentally needed directions. He also asked for a date.

So it can pay to try and make a subway boyfriends the real thing. Too bad I never had the courage.